Chapter Seventy-Six: Unable to Hold Back Any Longer

Li Daoran watched the scene unfold before his eyes, his trembling hands suddenly becoming steady. Without a word, he silently drew his energy gun and murmured, “Sorry, I simply can’t hold back any longer.”

He didn’t wait for a response from the people of Azure Star, instead aiming at the soldier with the gun. He wanted to shoot Okamoto Kazuki directly, but his instincts told him that Okamoto would not be so easily dealt with.

“Anyone with even a shred of humanity would be unable to bear seeing this. But, Daoran, have you truly thought through what you’re about to do?” Chen Ming’s voice came, slightly hoarse.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. I can accept people dying on the battlefield, but I absolutely refuse to tolerate the slaughter of defenseless civilians. That is a moral line I will not cross. If I choose to turn a blind eye and suppress my anger now, I can’t guarantee I won’t lose myself, Chen Ming,” Li Daoran whispered.

“If you’ve decided, then do it. Don’t target that soldier, or they’ll know you value the hostages they hold. That benefits no one. If you must shoot, aim for their armored leader.”

Though they didn’t agree with Li Daoran’s decision, Chen Ming and the others admitted his reasoning was sound. If not for Daoran’s unwavering moral standards, Azure Star could have descended into chaos. Because he kept his desires in check, the people of Azure Star remained united, avoiding unrest and upheaval.

Li Daoran took the advice and promptly changed his target.

Thin beams of laser shot straight at Okamoto Kazuki, and Li Daoran quickly shifted his position, running to try to close the distance.

Just as expected, the attack was futile. Okamoto Kazuki seemed prepared, moving before the laser could reach him. The other soldiers, well-trained, grabbed nearby people as shields, swiftly dragging hostages to form a wall. Anyone who disobeyed received a bullet without hesitation.

A faint smile curled at Okamoto Kazuki’s lips. “So, it seems my instincts were right—someone was watching. This little probe couldn’t resist, could you? You stay here and watch them; I’ll catch him myself.”

Before he finished speaking, he killed another person with his dagger as a warning, then dashed into the forest.

The remaining soldiers were clearly accustomed to Okamoto Kazuki’s ways. Known among them as the Lone Wolf, he always acted on instinct—instincts that rarely erred. He preferred working alone, skilled in psychological warfare and close combat, often treating his own men as pawns and bait. Those under his command were equally ruthless, caring little for their own lives. With Okamoto’s brief words, he was gone.

They wasted no time. Everyone was ordered to stand, forming a circle outside the laboratory doors, while the soldiers crouched inside, guns trained on the hostages. Yuan Muye was placed even deeper within; he was their primary target this time. Anyone else, including themselves, could die—but not Yuan Muye. If things turned hopeless, they would kill everyone, including him.

To prevent Yuan Muye from causing trouble, they forced him to swallow a pill; he immediately passed out, then was placed at the very center. More than ten men worked efficiently and wordlessly, each carrying out their roles with practiced precision, completing everything in under a minute.

Only fifteen hostages remained alive, standing outside the laboratory doors under the guns. They didn’t choose to hide inside and lock themselves in for safety, but instead left the doors open, putting the hostages outside in a last-ditch stand—yet another sign of their madness.

More than a dozen bodies of former classmates and colleagues lay in pools of blood at the entrance. Under such pressure, some couldn’t bear it; the moment they made a move, a bullet shattered their skull, blood and brain matter spilling out, the red and white mixture trickling from the small wound, even the scent of burnt flesh lingering in the air.

Energy weapons weren’t as explosive as the projectile weapons of Azure Star, but their destructive power was no less.

Meanwhile, Li Daoran was sprinting across another mountain peak, tens of kilometers away, watching these events through the telescopic vision of his exoskeletal armor. His eyes burned with rage.

“So this is war?” Li Daoran couldn’t help but ask.

“This is real war. But people like them aren’t worthy of being called soldiers,” Chen Ming replied, his anger barely contained. These men had lost all humanity. Even experienced soldiers like them could hardly imagine anyone capable of such deeds. Was this the way of war in Daoran’s world?

So practiced, their slaughter was nothing to them. Compared to these, the worst war criminals and terrorists of Azure Star paled in comparison.

“There’s only one way left to save them, Daoran,” Chen Ming said, still searching for a solution.

“There’s a way?” Li Daoran’s eyes lit up. Seeing Okamoto’s men respond so ruthlessly, he had sunk into despair, thinking he would get everyone killed. Unexpectedly, Chen Ming still had hope.

“There is. That squad leader is coming over himself, clearly confident. If you can capture him, maybe there’s room for negotiation,” Chen Ming said.

“But don’t let them see you care about the hostages. Otherwise, you know the consequences. In truth, you hold more hostages than they do, Daoran. All of us—your parents, classmates, everyone you know and don’t know—we are your hostages. Our lives all depend on you alone.

I hate to say it, but you must weigh what matters most. If it comes to the worst, I hope you make the right choice.”

“Hey, the fight’s about to start, can’t you give me some encouragement? All this pressure—I can’t take it. Can’t you be a bit more helpful?” Li Daoran replied lightly, as if the burden of all humanity had never weighed him down. For some reason, this was the first time he felt so relaxed.

“Fate chose you for a reason, Daoran. I am not your equal,” Chen Ming said, sincerely moved.

“That pile of crap is almost here. Can’t we talk after it’s over?” Li Daoran kept running. Okamoto Kazuki’s figure was now in sight, so he fired a couple of shots to test his luck.

“You’ve trained for so long, what is there left to say? Just do it. Test him, let him see what you’re made of.

If you can’t beat him, come back. Worst case, we’ll find another way and not return. If all else fails, we’ll make sure you don’t come back, keep your body safe, and try to figure something out ourselves. You’re so carefree with our lives, who cares about yours?” Natasha’s voice, rich with feminine charm, came through, clearly annoyed.

Li Daoran smiled wryly. She was not someone to be trifled with, but hearing Natasha speak like this, it felt as if a huge weight had lifted in his heart, and somehow, he sensed she was comforting him.