Revenge

Clear out the area first!

The three split up and quickly cleared out the rebel soldiers nearby. Those poor fools had picked the wrong people to mess with. Picking a fight with robots was asking for death—and not in any ordinary way.

Zhang Yihu hauled the ammunition while Zhang Hao and Mifeng threw it. The two could hurl shells fitted with fuses over a thousand meters. If they went all out, they could even send them several thousand meters away.

Walking artillery!

Zhang Yihu couldn't haul ammunition as fast as the other two could throw it, so he brought out several boxes of grenades. That way, the two wouldn't have to sit idle after they ran out of shells; they could throw a few grenades, too.

The rebels were in for a world of misery. With countless shells raining down, they assumed there was an artillery position outside the camp, bombarding them. The camp fell into chaos again. Any soldier with half a clue ran for the exits without hesitation, and the officers did the same—only faster.

The three threw out nearly all the shells, mortar rounds, grenades, and hand grenades in the arsenal, blasting the camp into ruins.

"Let's go! Time to reap some souls!"

There was no one left in the camp. Everyone who could flee had already fled, so the three moved through it in different directions, quickly gathering souls.

Mifeng said, "This time, we got quite a haul—nearly three thousand souls, and they're good quality, too."

"Should we go after them?"

Zhang Hao said, "That's enough. Killing too many people isn't a good thing. Let's go."

Mifeng didn't insist. He knew that making too much trouble would be bad, and the fallout could be serious. "All right. We'll set it on fire and leave."

Zhang Yihu could handle that. There was still an armored vehicle outside, and the other two stole another one and drove back to where they had launched their attack. They watched the camp in the distance.

Zhang Yihu found the camp's gas station, where barrels of gasoline and diesel were stored. Setting the place on fire was simple: he just had to throw the barrels. With his strength, that was child's play.

A moment later, flames roared into the sky. The barrels crashed into places that were already burning, and the fire erupted. Zhang Yihu also threw several gasoline barrels straight into the arsenal, where plenty of ammunition and guns were still stored. They would explode once the fire reached them.

Soon, Zhang Yihu returned and said, "Reporting in! Zhang Yihu has completed the mission!"

"Good. You drive."

Zhang Yihu got in. The two armored vehicles drove one behind the other along the main road toward Enjaraba.

By then, the sky was beginning to brighten. It was already four in the morning, nearly five.

Only then did Zhang Hao's soul finally settle down.

Killing people and setting fires—it was thrilling. If he'd tried to do this in a flesh-and-blood body, his chances of survival would have been next to nothing. He felt his bulletproof vest. Several deformed bullets were still embedded in it, and the sleeve on his arm had been torn open by a bullet. His skin had split, revealing the steel bones beneath. His leg was the same. He had plenty of wounds, but they didn't affect him at all.

Mifeng was in even worse shape. His bulletproof vest was practically shredded, and both sleeves were torn to pieces. Only patches of skin remained on his hands and arms, and the exposed steel bones were covered in scratches. Who knew how he'd fought?

It had been a long time since he'd fought like that. Once he went wild, even he couldn't hold back.

Mifeng seemed utterly unconcerned. His calculations differed from Zhang Hao's: Zhang Hao tried to keep every bullet and fragment from hitting him, while Mifeng didn't care as long as nothing could deal a fatal blow to his mechanical body. He'd even charge straight at machine-gun fire. His fighting style was incomparably more reckless than Zhang Hao's.

Zhang Hao opened a black suitcase and quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes: casual wear. He took off his military boots and put on a pair of leather shoes.

Mifeng began changing, too. He looked at his arm, took out a can of spray, and sprayed it over the exposed steel bones. In moments, active cells had spread across his entire arm.

Zhang Hao said, "Spray some on me, too."

Near the border of Enjaraba, the armored vehicle stopped. Mifeng and Zhang Hao stood by the roadside, both dressed casually. They wore sun hats and sunglasses, with their hands in their pockets, watching Zhang Yihu bustle around as he splashed gasoline inside and outside the armored vehicle. He had changed clothes, too: a suit, a tie, and sunglasses made him look like a bodyguard.

The three walked along the main road toward Enjaraba. After they'd gone a few hundred meters, Zhang Yihu held a grenade in each hand. He pulled the pins and casually tossed them. The two grenades flew one after the other through the rear door of the armored vehicle.

"Boom! Boom!"

The armored vehicle immediately burst into flames.

Zhang Hao said, "Let's go home!"

After crossing the border, they saw several cars pulled over by the roadside. Zhang Erhu, Zhang Sanhu, and Wu Renbao were there, but the others were nowhere to be seen.

Wu Renbao looked much better. He had just woken up, and as soon as he saw Zhang Hao, he recognized him as the man he'd met earlier. He came over and clasped Zhang Hao's hand, saying gratefully, "Thank you, thank you..."

Zhang Hao found it amusing. "You're welcome, Manager Wu. We're heading home now."

Everyone got into the cars and drove toward Enjaraba's international airport.

The advantage of having a private plane was that there were no security checks. They boarded in no time. By then, news of the heavy blow dealt to the rebel forces in Rabia was spreading everywhere. After the hostages from various countries returned home, the news outlets began reporting on it extensively.

Wu Baoren, however, didn't leave on the private plane. He followed the usual procedures to leave Africa; going with the private plane would have caused trouble later.

"A mysterious mercenary force seized a camp and rescued the hostages!" The news spread quickly online.

In particular, the rescue of Chen Ming, the general manager of Huajian Construction Corporation, led many people to suspect that China had sent in its special forces. The Chinese Foreign Ministry immediately denied the rumor.

The rumors grew wilder and wilder, but the public loved them. Some people even fanned the flames, delighted to see the chaos grow.

Self-media accounts and public platforms made a tidy profit off the excitement. Everyone was satisfied, including the gossip-loving public, who'd had their curiosity indulged and their emotions vented.

Wu Baoren was summoned for questioning by the national security agency, but they didn't give him a hard time.

With the Nano-machine controlling things, Wu Baoren played dumb at every opportunity. Fortunately, Chen Ming and the others could vouch for him. There were plenty of suspicious details, but none of them could implicate Zhang Hao and his group.

It was easy for the robots to change their faces. When they returned to Yuan Mountain Villa, they all changed theirs, and Zhang Hao even switched back to his flesh-and-blood body.

This soul swap had put Zhang Hao through a lot. After all the killing, his soul had grown somewhat stronger, and adjusting to a flesh-and-blood body made him terribly irritable. Going from an all-powerful robot to a frail human so suddenly had left him thoroughly unhappy.

It took a full month for him to adjust. Playing the piano, tending flowers, painting, and practicing calligraphy with a writing brush were all helpful. He tried hard to calm himself down. He spent the entire month at home, but he was never idle. There was plenty to keep him busy, and he found his own share of enjoyment in it as he searched for a way to quiet his soul.