The soldiers inside the Fortress were feeling downright miserable. Life under the Zade Family used to be smooth sailing—private army perks without the nasty business of slogging through jungles or deserts fighting local warlords. This private island was Zade turf. The mission? Easy: bully the weak, flex some muscle. Young Master Donald’s plan was simple—let the super soldiers wipe out the mercs and fighters, sell the products, rake in a fat profit, and go home loaded.
But things went sideways halfway through. The gang that ambushed and kidnapped Young Master Donald? Eh, not everyone was in on the fireworks—most folks missed the details. Real hell broke loose when that missile hit. Orders came down from the top, and the island’s only attack chopper took off for a wipeout mission. Didn’t work. The failed strike unleashed the super soldiers’ full-blown rampage.
Before, when the mercs and super soldiers were duking it out, the soldiers were just chilling—beer in hand, peanuts on the side, loving the show. Laughing at the mercs for being trash, bragging about how they’d school those blockheaded super soldiers if given the chance. But when the super soldiers turned on them, these pampered guys realized they were way worse off than the mercs.
Fighting broke out across every inch of the Fortress—gunshots and screams behind every door, blood splattered on every corridor wall and ceiling. Bullets shredded the flimsy walls, and the constant explosions had everyone numb to the noise.
Ordinary soldiers were dropping like flies—disappearing, dying at a jaw-dropping rate. When the battle started, there were over seven hundred soldiers in the Fortress. Just a few minutes later, less than four hundred were left.
Right then, a voice boomed from the Fortress speakers, and every screen lit up. On the display: a glitzy stage, Old Veteran—the green-skinned freak—standing tall. Behind him, all those big-shot bosses who used to strut around were now forced to their knees by the super soldiers, looking absolutely pathetic.
If you could see that broadcast, it meant Old Veteran had already taken over the control room.
"Hey folks, greetings! Quick intro—back in the day, they called me Old Veteran. Now, I’m the top dog here, and soon enough, I’ll be the ruler of the world." Old Veteran shrugged. "I know what you’re thinking—‘Is this guy nuts?’ But let me tell you, I’m chosen by the heavens! I’m destined to be the big boss over everyone!"
While Old Veteran was giving his speech, the super soldiers paused the carnage, giving the regular soldiers a breather.
"Three years ago, I retired from the Marine Corps and came back home. I’d ticked off my commanding officer, so when I returned, I had nowhere to go. Broke, desperate, scraping by on government handouts. I killed people, got locked up, made bail—my life was in the gutter. That was my reality until two months ago. But then, fate picked me! Divine intervention, destiny’s call—I’m meant to be king! Look, those once-mighty big shots are kneeling behind me, and the guy who used to be down and out is standing in front of their knees."
Old Veteran grabbed Turban Boss by the hair and yanked his face toward the camera. "Take a good look! This guy needs to cough up a billion bucks if he wants to buy back his sorry life. And the rest of these clowns? Same price tag. Just imagine—these few folks alone could make me filthy rich, give me the capital to grab everything I want! Now I’ve got cash, super soldiers, and soon, the whole world’s mine!"
"So, here’s the deal—you’ve got two choices. One: bow to me, follow me, and help me conquer the world. Maybe you’ll bite it someday, but not today, and you’ll get to live the high life. Two: fight me, like a moth to a flame, and I’ll rip you to shreds. In one minute, the super soldiers are coming to collect your guns—if you surrender, sit tight and don’t move. But if anyone fires a shot, I’ll wipe out everyone in that zone." Old Veteran stared into the camera, eyes icy and chilling. "Now, make your choice."
The soldiers looked at each other, seeing hesitation and doubt in every eye. Die with honor? That’s rare these days—and selling your soul to the Zade Family hardly counts as ‘honor,’ right? If you resist, you die instantly—no way to fight that kind of power. If you surrender, well, maybe this lunatic will never take over the world, but at least you get to live for now.
When you hold all the cards, you don’t need to lie.
Time’s up. The super soldiers stepped out from cover—no one fired a shot. Some tried to raise their guns, but before they could aim, their own buddies stabbed them in the back. Faced with life or death, they caved. The super soldiers disarmed everyone, herded the soldiers into the ground-floor hall, and made them kneel with their hands on their heads.
No screens in this hall, so only Old Veteran’s voice echoed: "Good, looks like you all made the smart choice." Then, as if someone reminded him of something, he paused and burst out laughing. "Alright, finally found you! The last rebel in this castle is about to get steamrolled!"
With that, Old Veteran spun around and dashed into the depths of the Fortress. On the control room monitors, cameras in one area were dropping out—someone was smashing them fast. Old Veteran knew right away: it had to be Jack Young causing trouble, so he charged in, all fired up. Sure, Jack nearly killed him in normal mode, but now, in his Green Form, Old Veteran was sure he’d finally get payback!
Moments later, he stormed into the area.
"Ha! Gotcha!" He spotted a flash of movement, grabbed his heavy machine gun, and let loose. The ammo belt rattled, bullets flying toward the shadow—this big-caliber beast could chew through walls, and the room was shredded in seconds.
But then—slam! The door behind him snapped shut, and the lights went out. The whole room went pitch black. Suddenly, a heavy kick landed on Old Veteran’s knee. It wasn’t super powerful, but the surprise made him stumble. He lashed out, but hit nothing but air—then his other leg took a hit.
The attacks came fast and hard, but weirdly silent—should’ve sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, but the attacker kept it totally stealthy. In a blink, Old Veteran’s ribs, elbows, gut, and lower back—all the weak spots—got hammered, like a ghost was circling him, biting down with savage force.
Old Veteran’s body was covered in bone armor, but the attacker’s fists and feet had a special power that went straight through, hitting deep. Old Veteran roared and opened fire—through the flashes, he saw Jack Young darting around, eyes cold as steel. Old Veteran’s Green Form put his strength at Titan Spirit Method: Fifth Level, way above Jack Young’s Third Level. But Jack’s relentless training wasn’t for show—in the pitch dark, Old Veteran was blind, but Jack could see everything.
Jack’s Insight Technique let him channel max power into every strike, barely making a sound. He danced around Old Veteran’s wild swings. Up close, Jack unleashed the savage moves of Siamese boxing, double elbows pounding Old Veteran, leaving him shaken.