Whoosh—a fifty-kilogram stone shot out like a cannonball, smashing straight at the helicopter hovering thirty meters away, aiming right for the rotor blades. The pilot yanked the controls to dodge, but the stone still grazed the tail, sending the aircraft spinning wildly in midair. The next moment, a green figure leaped out from the broken wall, tracing a long arc, and grabbed onto the landing gear of the helicopter.
It was none other than the Old Veteran!
He swung himself up, ripped open the helicopter cabin, and tossed out a guy who was about to set up a machine gun. Then, roaring, he dove inside, painting the cockpit blood-red amid terrified screams. Bang! The front windshield was kicked out by a massive boot, and the Old Veteran, drenched in blood, leapt back into the fortress. The helicopter crashed helplessly into the mountainside below, exploding into a giant fireball.
The Old Veteran turned, his green eyes scanning the survivors—soldiers wailed and fled. Not seeing Jack Young anywhere, the Old Veteran snorted, "You run fast, but let's see how long you can hide—damn martial artist." He glanced at his left arm and issued a command to the Super Soldiers. Instantly, the Super Soldiers in the fortress raised their weapons, ready to carry out their new master's will.
First order: kill all the bodyguards in the guest hall and lock down the panicked guests. "What the hell is going on?!" The big shots shouted the same line for the third time, but the expressionless Super Soldiers gave no response. Five minutes later, heavy footsteps approached, and the Old Veteran slammed the door open. "One billion dollars each. Pay up or die."
The big boss in a headscarf couldn't help but wave his fist. "You dare threaten us? Do you even know who we are?"
The Old Veteran grabbed his fist, squeezed, and with a sickening crunch, turned it to mush. Tossing the howling headscarf guy aside, his green eyes glinted: "Your identity? A hostage."
The whole scene was caught perfectly on camera and transmitted straight to the control room. The people inside were panicking like ants on a hot pan—scared stiff, but helpless. Suddenly, gunshots rang out outside the control room. They all jumped, not knowing what to do. The braver ones pointed their guns at the door; the cowards started crawling under the consoles.
Bang! The door was kicked open—and in walked Jack Young. Like a phantom, he kicked the raised gun away, grabbed the guy by the collar, and swept his gaze around. "Speak. Who's in charge here?"
Several people instantly pointed to a cabinet. Jack Young yanked the door open and dragged out a bespectacled guy in a white lab coat.
"Are you the one in charge here?"
"Y-yes, sir, I... my name is..."
"I don't care what your name is. Tell me—how do we get off this island?"
"R-right now, there's no way to leave. You need a pickup boat..."
"Damn it." Jack Young cursed. Donald Zade was already tied up and questioned, though not too thoroughly, but now was the time to bail. They had a retreat plan when making tactics, but time was tight. Things had changed—they'd have to improvise. Oh, and one more thing: confirm Jonathan Black and the others are safe.
"Where are my people? Find them, now!"
"Yes, sir!" The bespectacled lab coat guy didn't dare delay and immediately ordered everyone to search. The fortress was covered in cameras—some destroyed, but enough left to watch most areas. "Got them!" someone reported, switching the feed to the screen. Seeing the footage, even Jack Young sucked in a breath: Jonathan Black and the others were stranded on a cliff.
This fortress was built on a mountain, right by a cliff. The cliff wasn't super high, but still over a hundred meters. When the missile hit, Jack Young shoved Jonathan Black, who grabbed Sophie Chow, and Sophie Chow clung tight to Donald Zade. In the chaos of the explosion, all three got swept away. Who knows what happened, but now, the trio was dangling outside a broken floor slab.
Jonathan Black gripped the slab with one hand, reaching for Sophie Chow with the other. Sophie, in an even riskier spot, had her cloak snagged by an exposed rebar, hanging head-down in midair, clutching the unconscious Donald Zade. The dizzying drop below turned her face pale, but she refused to let go.
"Sophie, let go of him! I'll pull you up!" Jonathan Black strained toward her, but there was nowhere to get a decent foothold.