Chapter 73

"Zhuo Yan, what are you doing?" A sudden roar made everyone turn their gaze toward the person who had shouted. When they saw who it was, everyone's face was filled with disbelief. In a grand auditorium of a military district in China, a colonel stood up and loudly reprimanded a middle-aged man. However, as he reprimanded, the colonel furrowed his brows, clearly not expecting this person to cause trouble at this moment.

The middle-aged man called Zhuo Yan was nearly two meters tall, his muscles not overly bulky but filled with the explosive power of a cheetah. Standing there, he was like an iron tower, a rock that remained steadfast against the pounding waves, unmoving no matter how perilous the situation.

But the ferocity hidden within his calmness made everyone secretly alarmed. This was a man as immovable as a pine tree, but when he moved, he was not a cunning rabbit but a human-shaped tyrannosaurus. Yes, a tyrannosaurus, which was this middle-aged man's codename.

In the Chinese military, there was a ranking of the twelve zodiac signs, with the top person in each field being given the name of one of the zodiac animals. They represented the strongest in the twelve fields of the military. And Zhuo Yan, the Tyrannosaurus, was the one with the strongest combat skills, recognized by all soldiers as the king of soldiers.

Such a figure, who was both a target and a source of fear for all soldiers, now had a look of surprise on his face. Along with him, several others stood up, and these people were all the goals that all soldiers strived to reach, representing the strongest in the Chinese military. But at this moment, these usually calm people, who seemed to have no interest in anything other than training and missions, all had looks of surprise, filled with disbelief, joy, and reverence.

This scene was simultaneously playing out in the grand auditoriums of various military districts in China, and these people who suddenly stood up and roared seemed to have been touched by the most sensitive nerve by the actions of the team leader in the video.

"Do you know who he is?" A general turned to look at Zhuo Yan, his face filled with curiosity. This question was also asked by the heads of all military districts to the soldiers who had stood up.

"It should be him. But why is he in the game? He should..." The soldiers who stood up did not immediately answer their superiors' questions but instead muttered to themselves as they watched the team leader in the video not cross the border but return, seemingly confirming a guess in their hearts but still not believing it.

"Commander, you're asking Zhuo Yan a question. Do you know this player? Who is he?" The colonel who had reprimanded Zhuo Yan asked loudly, looking at Zhuo Yan and the other soldiers who seemed to be in a trance, and kept giving Zhuo Yan eye signals, clearly urging him to answer quickly to avoid angering the general.

"You must be Zhuo Yan, the Tyrannosaurus, the king of soldiers with the best single-combat skills in the Chinese military." The general who had asked the question did not get angry but instead waved to stop the colonel who was questioning Zhuo Yan. He then stood up and turned to Zhuo Yan, looking at him curiously and asked.

"The king of soldiers with the best single-combat skills, the Tyrannosaurus of the twelve zodiac signs? Haha..." Zhuo Yan smiled bitterly and shook his head, then pointed to the team leader in the video who had returned and said, "Compared to him, I am just a student."

Zhuo Yan's words caused a commotion in the grand auditorium. The Tyrannosaurus, the one with the best single-combat skills among the twelve zodiac signs, considered himself a student compared to this person. What did that make everyone else? Toddlers playing in the mud?

"Oh... Do you know who this player is?" The general was taken aback and asked with a hint of excitement.

Zhuo Yan did not immediately answer the general's question but exchanged glances with the other soldiers who had stood up, as if they were communicating. Then, seeing the team leader in the video pick up his teammate's dropped items and charge towards the enemy base without looking back, they all nodded in unison.

"It should be him, no one else is this crazy," another soldier who had stood up said. Although this soldier was not one of the twelve zodiac signs, his strength was enough to make all soldiers who knew his name feel suffocated. This made everyone even more curious.

"Who is he?" The general could not help but ask for the third time.

"General—The Cursed Fang. Colonel, I have decided to enter the 'Fate' game and accept virtual combat training." Zhuo Yan stared at the person in the video, his face showing a look of reminiscence, which then turned into an unwavering determination. He said this to the colonel who had reprimanded him, then turned and walked out of the auditorium. At this moment, everyone realized that the video had only played one-third of its length. But without needing to see the rest, Zhuo Yan already knew the outcome.

"We will also accept virtual training," the other soldiers who had stood up said, then turned and walked out as well, seemingly knowing the final outcome of the video. Their departure left everyone in the auditorium looking at each other in surprise.

These people were the ones who most opposed virtual training, as they, who had experienced countless life and death situations, felt that the virtual training that allowed constant resurrection was just a game, not a real war. They yearned for real combat, but today they suddenly changed their minds, clearly because of the protagonist in the video.

This scene was simultaneously playing out in various military districts, where soldiers who had always been a headache for their superiors and refused to accept virtual training, seeing it as just a boring game, exchanged glances after the action of the person in the video and decided to request virtual training. This made the political commissars who had been trying to persuade them both surprised and delighted. For a moment, no one knew what had happened.

"General—The Cursed Fang." Watching their idols leave one by one, declaring their intention to participate in the game, everyone was both surprised and delighted. They were surprised by what had happened to make these people, who had refused to join the game, suddenly join, and delighted that they could fight alongside their idols again. Although they did not know the reason, everyone was chewing on these words, looking at the team leader in the video.

"Is it him?" Some of the soldiers who were chewing on these words suddenly seemed to remember something, their faces showing a look of shock, as if they had thought of a terrifying existence.

General—The Cursed Fang. This was a legend, a legend that was not just a myth but a real existence. It referred to a person, someone who, as long as you knew of his existence, you would revere and be passionate about. The undisputed king of soldiers in the chaotic African star domain, a presence that made countless enemies tremble in fear.

General was a familiar yet unfamiliar name. It was familiar because anyone with a bit of historical knowledge knew what a general was. It was unfamiliar because the current military ranks were colonels, brigadier generals, major generals, and the top brass in the military districts were called commanders, chiefs, and political commissars, with no one called a general anymore.

But all soldiers who knew of this person's existence liked to call him General. He was similar to the ancient generals who led from the front and fought alongside their soldiers, not like the modern officers who were just commanders. They were famous, but they might never have killed an enemy with their own hands. Strategy was the first choice for modern officers, while combat skills were secondary.

So, they felt that calling him a brigadier general, commander, or chief was not appropriate. Thus, the title of General was born, and the Cursed Fang was the name given to him by the enemy. Because anyone who was targeted by this fang, or bitten by it, would die with a curse, even if they did not die immediately. Every target of the fang, like the end of this video, had never been an exception, which is why he was called the Cursed Fang.

The General's signature move was placing his finger to his lips and then saluting. This move seemed a bit playful and unorthodox, not fitting the usual strict military code.

But the reality was filled with helplessness. Since he left his homeland and set foot in that place, all his identities became shadows, hidden away. Even though everyone in that region knew the truth, in public, he could not even give a formal military salute, as it could be used by other countries as an excuse to attack him. Everything had to be hidden.

Thus, this move was born. When it appeared and when the General started using it, perhaps only the General himself knew. But no one else dared to do this move.

Because when a team of soldiers was about to execute a mission with an 80% death rate, the General would stand far away and make this move to their backs. On that chaotic battlefield, when a teammate stayed behind to cover the retreat, possibly never leaving, the ones who left would make this move to their close teammates.

It was a silent blessing, a heartfelt wish placed in the heart. The seemingly non-standard salute was a longing for home, or a fondness for their teammates.

And when someone made this move to their teammate, they also made a promise. A promise that seemed like a curse to the enemy, a promise that if the teammate died, the enemy who killed them would be hunted down relentlessly by the person who made the move.

This was an unwritten rule of the African Fang team, no one forced it, and no one spoke of it. You could make the move and not fulfill the promise, and no one would say anything, and the General would still treat you the same. But to this day, no one who made the move has ever broken their promise. This was the origin of the Fang team's curse, and the move was the beginning of the curse.

To this day, the person who has made this move the most is the General. On a battlefield where even officers had an 80% death rate, let alone ordinary soldiers, the General made this promise to every soldier who passed through his hands. The fulfillment of this promise was the reason why the Fang team was called the Cursed Fang by the enemy for five years, and the team's reputation in the African star domain was legendary.

Of course, this move was not just a curse on the enemy. Every six months, when the so-called veterans in the country, who were absolute newbies in real combat, returned home after six months of life and death training and transformed into elite soldiers, the General would make this move to the teammates boarding the plane. This move was a blessing, a wish for the teammates leaving the battlefield to live better. It was also a寄托, a bit of the General's longing for home, as this battlefield would likely be his final resting place, and he might never kiss the soil of his homeland again.

Every soldier returning from the African star domain, besides carrying the General's longing, would also hold an urn of ashes, the ashes of their fallen teammates. The General once said, "I don't know if I can return home, but I hope my ashes can. I want them to be by the pond where I used to play, the place I always dream about."

So, the General collected the ashes of the fallen soldiers who had no chance to return to their homeland and had the returning soldiers take them back every six months. Perhaps the tombstones would have no names, but their ashes would lie in the soil of their homeland, the place the General dreamed of.

Soldiers are not allowed to have tattoos, as they are soldiers, not thugs or hooligans. But the soldiers returning from the African star domain had a common mark in their hearts, the mark of a fang, a cursed fang, and the envious figure watching them return to the country.

Thank you to Shen Xing Si Hai, Chidan de Shouyi, Xiaoxiaoxia, and Sizhandeng for your support and to all the readers for your recommendations. Please vote for the Three Rivers and give more recommendations. This chapter is nearly 4,000 words, and a new journey is about to begin. Please support us!