Chapter 117: Is That All You've Got? (Please Add to Your Bookshelf)

"I have lost," the burly man said slowly, casting a profound look at Xu Qiang. An ultra-long-range shot of 1,500 meters required consideration of countless external factors—weather, wind speed, and more. He finally understood why Xu Qiang was hailed as the "Sniper King"; the two of them were simply not in the same league.

"If you want to learn, I can teach you," Xu Qiang said. He didn't know what else to say, so he offered this simple, blunt statement. Yet, to the burly man's ears, it sounded profoundly sincere.

In Xu Qiang’s view, hitting a target at 1,000 meters with a Type 88 sniper rifle was already quite an achievement for a regular unit. He remembered how he himself had practiced day and night to reach his current level. He knew the burly man simply lacked professional guidance. After all, the Blue Flag Army, holed up in the Golden Triangle, suffered from a lack of human resources; there certainly weren't many elite sniper instructors there, and they couldn't compare to an elite clandestine unit directly managed by the state, like Falcon.

"Really?" A strange light flickered in the burly man's eyes at Xu Qiang's offer. He believed that if Xu Qiang were willing to teach him, his marksmanship would surely see a qualitative leap.

Xu Qiang didn't say anything more. He just nodded and began walking toward Lin Fan. Since the winner had been decided, there was no reason for him to linger.

Seeing his subordinate defeated, Jin Zhengyang felt a touch of disappointment. He sighed to himself, "It seems my soldiers really do have a significant gap compared to the men from Falcon."

After watching the sniper competition between Xu Qiang and the burly man, Lin Fan felt a sudden urge to get involved. Just then, Jin Zhengyang said, "Brother Lin, would you like to go up and trade a few blows with them? Consider it a bit of coaching."

"Sure, I'll go and have some fun. I haven't trained in a while; I fear my skills have grown a bit rusty," Lin Fan said with a smile at Jin Zhengyang.

Jin Zhengyang knew this was merely modesty. Having been a member of Falcon and now the leader of Dragon Soul, how could Lin Fan’s skills be anything but formidable? He had never had the chance to see it before, and now he was eager to witness Lin Fan's hand-to-hand combat prowess.

Walking to the center of the field, Lin Fan chuckled and said to the burly man standing opposite him, "You should call a few more over." It wasn't that Lin Fan looked down on him; he simply wanted to have a good time, and one opponent was clearly not enough to satisfy him.

Although the man’s muscles were bulging, Lin Fan knew he was no match for him. Well-defined muscles didn't necessarily equate to effective power; muscle strength relied on explosiveness. Lin Fan’s own muscles weren't particularly prominent, but his close-quarters explosive power was immense—a result of his long-term dedication to Yanqing boxing.

Hearing Lin Fan’s casual remark, the burly man was incensed. With a roar, he charged at Lin Fan. Watching this, Lin Fan stood his ground with a faint smile. In combat, one must never be impatient or agitated. Like ancient swordsmen dueling, one must remain calm and composed; otherwise, every move would be riddled with flaws, giving the opponent an opening that would lead only to defeat.

As the burly man approached, Lin Fan remained perfectly still, looking straight ahead. The surrounding soldiers even began to imagine Lin Fan being knocked away by a single punch, and they felt a sense of smug satisfaction. They were still incensed by Lin Fan’s earlier comment, which they took as a blatant insult.

Just as the burly man’s fist was about to strike, Lin Fan moved. He swayed slightly, dodging the blow with an impossible arc, and simultaneously tripped the man with his foot. The burly man stumbled and crashed heavily to the ground. Lin Fan could have used other techniques, but that wouldn't have been satisfying enough for a one-on-one fight.

Without even looking at the man on the ground, Lin Fan smiled at the soldiers nearby and said, "I told you, bring a few more. You, you, you... and you. All ten or so of you, come at me together."

Xu Qiang watched the scene calmly, neither surprised by Lin Fan’s performance nor worried about what was to come. It was the nature of a sniper to maintain such composure. Although Xu Qiang had become more outgoing after leaving Falcon, he remained the same at his core. A sniper—especially one skilled in camouflage—must have a still heart, steady hands, and the patience to endure solitude.

As for Jin Zhengyang, he felt a flicker of worry. Even if Lin Fan was from a special forces unit, wasn't this a bit too confident? While the state’s clandestine units focused on individual combat capabilities, they often relied on the environment and surprise. To face a dozen men head-on like this seemed almost unbelievable.

If Lin Fan couldn't handle these few men, he wouldn't be worthy of being called the "Soldier King" of Falcon, let alone the leader of the Dragon Soul mercenaries. In Xu Qiang’s eyes, dealing with these men was a matter of minutes.

The soldiers below were filled with rage upon hearing Lin Fan’s words. It was a clear sign of contempt. Being challenged by one man to take on ten of them made them feel belittled. They stepped forward, fists clenched, ready to fight. If they lacked even this much spirit in the face of such a blatant provocation, they weren't worthy of being soldiers.

More than a dozen men rushed at Lin Fan, fists flying toward his head. In their eyes, there was no way Lin Fan could evade an attack from so many. The burly man, having been tripped earlier, also charged from behind, eager to reclaim his dignity. He refused to believe Lin Fan could handle a dozen men at once.

Without even turning his head, Lin Fan tilted slightly, dodging the burly man’s sneak attack. With his right hand, he snatched the man’s wrist, exerted a sudden burst of force, and hoisted him off the ground. He spun and delivered a back kick to the man’s stomach. The burly man’s massive frame flew like a falling leaf into the group of soldiers, crashing into them. The searing pain in his stomach and wrist spread through his entire body. He had a chilling realization: had this been a real battlefield, that kick would have crippled him.

"Is that all you've got?" Lin Fan asked with a shrug. If these soldiers had used their heads even a little, they wouldn't have been defeated so quickly, especially given their overwhelming numerical advantage.

Standing nearby, Jin Zhengyang watched it all, understanding that Lin Fan was taking the opportunity to temper his soldiers—essentially giving them a lesson. Since Lin Fan was a product of Falcon, Jin Zhengyang was more than happy to have him teach his men a thing or two.