Run Quickly

The sea breeze blew in his face, carrying a heavy salty and fishy stench. Nguyen Khang Dien's eyelid twitched.

The fishing boat beneath his feet was inching closer to the isolated island, an inconspicuous speck on the map.

He used to be a soldier from Annam, but now he was a mercenary who worked for money.

Why?

Because he was poor.

The reason was just that simple.

No one knew that the reason he had survived until now was because he harbored a secret.

A superpower forced out of him amidst the artillery fire on the battlefield.

He originally thought this ability would let him thrive in this blood-soaked line of work, but only after entering the business did he realize the world was far more lively than he had imagined.

Among those who had made a name for themselves in the circle, who didn't have a hidden trump card?

This time, the employer was the country of Luzon, asking them to assist the Luzon army in investigating this island.

The intel was simple. The path of Typhoon Jebi was supposed to roll right over this place. Let alone a small island, even a block of iron would have been blown away.

But that was the strange part. A typhoon capable of tearing everything to shreds vanished into thin air overnight.

Fishermen from Luzon were the first to notice the anomaly, and the higher-ups immediately caught a whiff of something unusual, which led to this operation.

However, they were riding in broken-down fishing boats, and to avoid the American navy, they had even deliberately taken a massive detour.

Luzon sounded like a sovereign nation, but with nine American military bases planted on its soil, to put it bluntly, they were just someone else's lapdog.

But even dogs want to bite sometimes.

And so, they came.

System: whatcanisay

Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, several gray landing crafts crashed through the waves, aggressively storming the beach.

Treads pressed into the soft, wet sand, making dull thuds as squads of fully armed American soldiers filed out of the cabins, quickly establishing a temporary defensive perimeter on the beach.

"Major Mike, what exactly are we searching for here?"

A lieutenant lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and the exhaled smoke was quickly scattered by the sea breeze.

He looked at the storm-ravaged jungle before him, his eyes filled with snapped trees and scattered branches, unable to see anything worth mobilizing a full company of troops for.

"Don't ask. If you must know, we're just here to coordinate."

Major Mike slowly pulled an old pipe from his pocket, packed it with tobacco, and lit it with a windproof lighter. He took a couple of puffs, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

"Coordinate? Coordinate with whom?" The lieutenant was somewhat confused.

Major Mike shot him a glance and said grumpily,

"Coordinate with the big shots who can make a typhoon change its course. Why ask so many questions."

In truth, he was suppressing his own anger. This feeling of being treated like a pawn while knowing absolutely nothing was terrible, but orders were orders, and he could only pinch his nose and accept it.

As for what his men thought, he couldn't care less. Today was just about going through the motions anyway.

Just as he finished speaking, a distinct buzzing sound echoed from the horizon.

Everyone looked up in unison.

A pitch-black Black Hawk helicopter tore through the clouds, rapidly descending like a circling bird of prey.

"There, they're here." Major Mike took the pipe out of his mouth and gestured toward the sky with his chin.

The sandy terrain was entirely unsuitable for landing, but the helicopter showed no intention of looking for a landing spot either.

At a height of over ten meters from the ground, the cabin door slid open, and several dark figures leaped out of the cabin without any hesitation!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Muffled landing sounds rang out one after another. Those figures landed on their feet, barely bending their knees, and stood firmly on the sand as if they had merely hopped down a single step.

The eyes of the surrounding American soldiers on guard duty almost popped out of their heads.

A rookie soldier dropped his shovel to the ground with a clatter, his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.

"My God... are they demons?"

The leader had his hair slicked back and shining, wore a pair of oversized black sunglasses, and was dressed in a black tactical suit that was completely out of place among the soldiers. He walked straight up to Major Mike.

He walked straight up to Major Mike and twitched the corners of his mouth.

Taking off his sunglasses, he revealed a pair of eyes filled with a hint of mockery.

"Long time no see, Captain. Oh, wait, look at my memory. I should be calling you Major now."

Major Mike looked at the familiar face before him and tossed his pipe to the side. "Jack Freeman, so it's you, you bastard. I knew it. Whenever you show up, it's never good news."

Though he was cursing verbally, his expression instantly turned serious. He spun around and roared at his subordinates, "What the fuck are you all staring at! Never seen a handsome guy before?"

"From now on, everyone and every action falls under Mr. Jack's command! His word is an order. Anyone who dares to question it, I'll shoot you myself!"

Major Mike knew very well that the appearance of a man like Jack meant that conventional combat rules were now void.

Dissatisfaction showed on some soldiers' faces, but no one dared to utter a word.

"Don't be so tense, Major Mike." Jack put his sunglasses back on and waved his hand lazily. "Have them split into three teams and conduct a fan-shaped sweep. If they find anything, contact me on channel three. If they encounter danger, just evacuate immediately. Don't say I sent your men to die."

He didn't even look the soldiers in the eye, but as the order was given, it carried an unquestionable authority.

Although the soldiers were displeased, under Major Mike's murderous glare, they quickly divided into teams and disappeared into the jungle.

As the men ran, they whispered among themselves.

"They won't even tell us what we're looking for. Isn't this just reckless?"

"Stop talking. Just treat it like a field trip. Focus your attention on the surrounding brush, and watch out for venomous snakes and bugs!"

However, what they didn't know was that another group had already beaten them to the punch.

Nguyen Khang Dien kept his body low, darting through the hot, humid jungle like a wildcat.

The roar of the helicopter made his heart tighten. He turned back and made a hand signal, and the team members behind him immediately understood, making their movements even stealthier.

The group observed these American soldiers from a distance.

The others merely felt tense, assuming it was just a regular army.

But a faint stinging sensation prickled the back of Nguyen Khang Dien's neck. It was his body's instinctual warning, a reaction that only occurred when encountering people with special abilities.

And there was more than one.

This was trouble.

They had to beat these Americans to it and find the secret of how this island made the typhoon disappear.

It would be best if they didn't run into them.

If they did...

Nguyen Khang Dien's eyes showed a hint of cowardice. Then they would just have to run away immediately.

As he was thinking, he suddenly shuddered all over and came to a halt.

"What's wrong?!"

One of the men suddenly asked.

Nguyen Khang Dien raised his head, looking toward the top of the mountain, and took a deep breath.

"Turn around, turn around right now. I can feel a danger at the summit unlike anything I've ever encountered before."