Chapter 36: The Impossible Task – Section 5

What can be done in three minutes?
A thousand people will surely give you a thousand answers. But no matter what those answers are, they all share one thing in common: they are trivial.
Trivial tasks—pouring a glass of water, brushing teeth, even clearing out inventory. These small tasks make up the everyday moments of people’s lives. Of course, people don’t pay attention to these unremarkable things. Just three minutes? In human life, such a short time is utterly insignificant.
Yet… in the eyes of a true warrior, three minutes can weigh as much as Mount Tai.
Because it can determine the outcome of a battle, or even an entire campaign!
Number 15 only had three minutes, but he knew this was already the greatest favor given to him—granted only because Number 16 had died in battle. And the other fights on this U.S. warship would surely be resolved within those three minutes as well.
Because they were the Black-Haired, Red-Blooded—unique tyrants across the entire world.
In terms of combat skills, technique, courage, and discipline, if the Black-Haired, Red-Blooded claimed to be second, then no one in the world would dare claim to be first. Perhaps the title “tyrant” might seem contemptible, but when applied to them, it only inspires fear! For the name “Black-Haired, Red-Blooded” itself is synonymous with death.
The U.S. spends the most on individual soldier training—this is an acknowledged fact. But that’s limited to the military. In reality, if we set aside differences between nations and organizations, the true number one are the Black-Haired, Red-Blooded. Moreover, in evaluating new members, they are even stricter than the best special forces.
Physical reflexes, mental resilience, knowledge, courage, loyalty—everything is tested, and everything must be excellent. Only such people can enter the outer organization of the Black-Haired, Red-Blooded. And only those who have completed a thousand missions and earned over 50,000 points in merit can enter the inner organization and become true members of the tyrants.
Just like Number 16, who died in battle just now—he was merely a member of the outer organization. Yet he had completed over a thousand missions and earned over 40,000 points in merit. Completing this mission would have allowed him to advance. But now, all his past efforts have been in vain.

But isn’t this also the fate of a warrior? Number Fifteen sneered. Weren’t he the same? It’s just that compared to Number Sixteen, he was a bit luckier. By now, he had long become an internal member of Black Hair Red Beauty. Naturally, he no longer reflected on the past. He only wanted his family to live better. And for this purpose, only Black Hair Red Beauty in the entire world could do it best.

As long as one joined this organization, even just as an outer member, their family members would be listed under Black Hair Red Beauty’s registry. They would be protected for life and receive astonishingly large sums of money. Every month, a check matching the member’s rank would be placed on their family members’ desks—without exception. Once they became internal members, the limit on this check vanished entirely.

In other words, with the status of an internal member, any member’s family would become extremely wealthy. Not only that, but they would also enjoy high prestige and treatments reserved only for nobles. Whether it was a yacht, a private plane, or even a small spaceship—whatever they desired, Black Hair Red Beauty’s dedicated staff would deliver it to them immediately.

With such treatment, what more could one ask for? For a warrior who risked his life, this was probably beyond even his wildest dreams. So despite Black Hair Red Beauty’s extremely strict selection standards, countless people still tried their best to get in. Applications poured in by the thousands every year, including those from the world’s top mercenaries and agents.

Unfortunately, not even one in ten thousand applicants would likely be accepted. After all, Black Hair Red Beauty’s rigorous training wasn’t for show—their casualties were surprisingly low. Even though they undertook the most dangerous missions, only a few died in a year. Coupled with the organization’s strict limit on the number of members, many people spent their entire lives longing without ever reaching Black Hair Red Beauty’s threshold.

But today, the organization finally lost members—not just one or two, but an entire group.

It wasn’t until two minutes later that Number Fifteen learned the news. At that time, he had just finished installing the explosive device and was pleased with his speed. Then, a calm voice spoke to him. His head told him that, including him, there were only fifteen people left on this U.S. assault ship.

“How could this happen?” Hearing this, Number Fifteen was stunned. In his mind, Black Hair Red Beauty seemed to have never failed in their missions, let alone suffered large-scale losses!

After all, as the most lawless thugs on Earth, their safety has always been the organization’s top priority. Every warrior is equipped with comprehensive protection mechanisms. At the organization’s base, a group of madmen work day and night to design escape devices for its members. Unless one is willing to die in battle, even in the most difficult situations, there is still a chance of survival. How could such heavy losses occur on an American assault ship?

Number 15 was confused, but he didn’t know—this was an inevitable loss for this mission. They had received the order so suddenly. From when they got the mission to now, not even two hours had passed. With such short time, there was no chance to assess the enemy’s movements. The organization had no time to prepare or make detailed plans. All they could rely on was the performance of their own warriors. It could be said this was a reckless attempt—acting without a plan in haste. No matter how strong the team, their chances of survival would be slim. And since the target was America’s latest assault ship, it was understandable that they suffered heavy losses.

In fact, most of the thirty warriors who invaded the assault ship died in traps. Perhaps because the commander of the American assault ship knew their identities in advance, he chose not to fight and instead activated the ship’s self-destruct mechanism in a near-suicidal move. He deployed numerous troops at key points. Whenever the dark mechs launched attacks, these troops’ only task was to delay them—to keep the mechs from reaching the self-destruct zones!

No matter how strong the mechs were, they couldn’t withstand the power of a warship’s self-destruction. No warrior could survive amidst the overwhelming explosions. So, just two minutes later, out of the thirty warriors who invaded the assault ship, only fifteen remained.

Yet, after such a heavy cost, the assault ship was mostly under control, though it was now riddled with damage and on the verge of collapse.

At this moment, in the cabin where General Lin Hao was imprisoned…

The roaring sounds in his ears grew fainter. General Lin Hao knew this meant the battle was coming to an end. He just didn’t know the final outcome—whether the invaders had won or the American soldiers who were holding him captive had succeeded.

Shaking his head, General Lin Hao smiled self-mockingly. He was already in his sixties—how could he still be so naive? It had only been two minutes; who could take control of a warship guarded by U.S. special forces in such a short time? He was desperate for reinforcements, but he had to be realistic. This was surely a failed raid. No matter who the attackers were, the outcome would undoubtedly be total annihilation.

After all, this was U.S. territory. Fighting alone here, aside from those madmen, no other force in the world could come out unscathed.

As for those madmen… General Lin Hao let out a bitter laugh. If the country could hire them all, he would truly be grateful. Should he feel thankful for the country’s attention or sad about the cost?

“Click!” The cabin door suddenly opened.

General Lin Hao was shocked and instinctively puffed out his chest. He knew the main event had arrived. Being attacked suddenly would surely infuriate even a commander. But did they really think they could get something out of him?

When would these Americans understand the integrity of the Chinese people?

To General Lin Hao’s surprise, it wasn’t the same American man who entered this time, but a slightly thin young man. With black hair and cold eyes, a long scar ran down from his temple, giving him a terrifying appearance.

The general’s heart turned cold. Who was he?

“Heh, another replacement?” With a faint smile, the general showed no signs of being a captive, instead acting like a hospitable host. He tilted his chin slightly. “Sit down. The accommodations are simple. You’ll have to make do.”

There was no response. The young man simply stood there, coldly staring at the general, neither speaking nor moving. The atmosphere in the cabin grew tense. The general narrowed his eyes slightly. After a long while, he spoke again. “You… aren’t American.”

General Lin Hao’s tone was firm, but he didn’t get the response he expected. The young man remained standing quietly, like an ancient stone statue, utterly lifeless. It wasn’t until the general grew impatient that a slightly hoarse voice sounded in the cabin.

“Lin Hao?”

“It’s me. Who are you?! Didn’t your superior tell you what kind of manners to show when facing a Chinese general?” General Lin Hao frowned and snapped in annoyance.

But he received an unexpected reply.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very familiar with American etiquette. I’m not here for that either. Let me introduce myself; my name is Hei Fa. I’m here for two reasons. First, I want to obtain the gene map. Second…”
“I want to kill you.”