Chapter 84: Huanghua Airport, Is It? We're Headed That Way!

Having witnessed with his own eyes the training of this group of soldiers inside the prison, he finally understood what was meant by the word “gap.” According to Zhao Qiang’s introduction, these men had just completed a five-kilometer weighted cross-country run, and he had personally seen their high-intensity sparring. That display put even the reconnaissance units in the regular army to shame by several orders of magnitude. Although they used blanks, at such close range they truly dared to fire straight at each other's heads.

Their speed was astonishing, their accuracy impeccable. Whether attacking or defending, every tactical maneuver of the squad flowed seamlessly, with not a hint of hesitation. Watching them, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in their place. The thought alone broke him out in a cold sweat: if he were inside facing them, he would not last even half a round before being at their mercy.

With such a team before him, what was their intention? A show of force? But that seemed unnecessary—he was just an ordinary soldier. Even if he possessed some worthwhile intelligence, there was no reason for them to make such a display.

“Is there any mission that a team like this couldn’t accomplish?” Zhao Qiang asked with a half-smile.

He nodded in silent agreement. If only he had such a squad at his disposal, he would not have been routed and left to escape alone, beaten by a band of ragtag survivors.

“Tell me, why should we help you?” Zhao Qiang’s expression hardened, his voice turning cold. They had managed this prison for so long, everything was running smoothly—ample food and ammunition, not a thing lacking. Although the man claimed there were hundreds of survivors at Huanghua Airport, that was only his word.

What’s more, he was wounded by gunfire. He didn’t look like a criminal, but appearances meant little; Li Zixin had once seemed harmless, and look how that turned out. You can never truly know a person’s heart. Was it someone from the airport who attacked him, or did he attack someone else? There was no way to know. This whole show of force was just to make it clear: our strength is not to be underestimated. If you harbor ill intentions, you’d better consider your odds carefully.

Zhao Qiang’s question plunged him into thought. Indeed, life here was a world apart from the airport—food, weapons, elite soldiers—while they had almost nothing. But his comrades, his brothers-in-arms, their fates were still unknown. The words of his squad leader still echoed in his ears; they were waiting for him to return and save them.

At last, he made his decision. He looked up, meeting Zhao Qiang’s gaze with resolve. “I can’t say why you should help me. All I know is my comrades are still waiting for me. As a soldier, I will never abandon them to save myself. I am deeply grateful you saved my life, but I cannot—and will not—expect your help. If possible, please return my weapon. I will never forsake my brothers.”

He finished his speech without blinking. Life here was indeed a thousand times better than at the airport, but that was no excuse to abandon his comrades. As a soldier, he had no regrets about his choice.

“Very good!” Zhao Qiang narrowed his eyes and smiled. In the distance, Wei Tao and Old Meng nodded slightly to him. After staring at him for a while, Zhao Qiang turned and called, “Cai Jiashu, step forward!”

“Here!”

“Hand him your weapon, and issue him a full load of ammunition,” Zhao Qiang ordered without looking back.

“This…” Cai Jiashu hesitated.

“Follow orders!” Normally, Cai Jiashu was the team leader in action, but outside the field, he took orders from Zhao Qiang. Zhao Qiang held no rank or title, but he had earned the men’s respect and obedience through his own strength.

So Zhao Qiang’s orders were effective. Cai Jiashu, though reluctant, removed his sidearm and pressed it into his hands. “Gun, ammo, it’s all here.” Cai Jiashu had grown attached to that weapon, and handing it over pained him. Yet Zhao Qiang’s orders could not be defied, so he could only glare at him in resignation.

He ignored Cai Jiashu’s sullen face, took the gun, checked it, and with a curt “Thank you,” walked straight toward the prison gates without a backward glance.

Zhao Qiang narrowed his eyes, neither persuading nor hurrying him, simply watching as his figure receded into the distance. Cai Jiashu could not hold back any longer. Scratching his head, he asked, “Zhao, are we really just going to let him go? Stand by and watch?”

Cai Jiashu’s real motive was a longing for action. Training was just training; every day, it was either zombies or shooting at the same few moving targets, or sparring with comrades. Their skills were growing dull with boredom. After that encounter at the supermarket with Li Zixin, he’d been itching for a real fight against some real villains.

As he reached the prison gates, the stubborn man hadn’t looked back even once, not even a sidelong glance. With the earlier nods from Meng and Wei, his character was clear. Zhao Qiang had nothing but disdain for opportunists. This man, too, was a soldier and had not forsaken his honor. Not helping such a man would be against all reason.

“Everyone, listen up!” Zhao Qiang turned to face his eager troops, and quietly commanded, “First and second squads, mount up. Prepare for action.”

He walked step by step toward the gate. They had saved him, tended his wounds, fed him—already a great kindness. Now, as he insisted on leaving, they even gave him a weapon and ammunition—precious supplies, irreplaceable once used. He was not greedy; to expect their help after all this would be asking too much. His wound had mostly healed overnight; though it still ached, it would not hinder his performance.

There were about thirty of them. He had a hundred and twenty rounds—should be enough. But could he, alone, face so many ruthless enemies? Their bullets flew as if they cost nothing. Discipline might be lacking, but sheer firepower made up for it. If he died, at least it would be a worthy death.

At the thought of death, he shivered—not from fear, but from excitement. A real man should die on the battlefield, wrapped in his horse’s hide.

Suddenly, Zhao Qiang’s familiar voice rang out behind him, accompanied by the roar of engines: “Get in! We’re heading to Huanghua Airport too—it’s on our way!”