Chapter Seventy-Four: Concentrated Attack

James Sam, battered by relentless attacks, erupted in fury, his roar echoing again and again. From the statue behind him, an unending stream of white light poured into his body, spinning rapidly and causing his form to swell. His skin split open only to be mended instantly by the surging white radiance.

Though the squad could still hold their ground for now, the longer the fight dragged on, the more critical the issue of ammunition became. On this mission, the squad had anticipated the possible actions of the Minya Federation’s special forces. Aside from bringing ten units of ammunition for their primary weapons, five for their secondary weapons, and two for their personal defense arms, they had also packed eight assorted rockets and a portable rocket launcher, along with a large supply of anti-personnel mines and grenades.

Wu Yun, the team’s reckless brute, had insisted on bringing a Vulcan cannon and ten thousand rounds of ammunition. There was so much, his gear couldn't even contain it all; each squad member had to carry part of his load.

Fortunately, these men were cultivators with immense physical strength—if they were ordinary special forces, the sheer weight of the ammo would have crushed them before they even began to fight!

In earlier combat, focused mainly on ambush, only Bei Shiliang, the demolition enthusiast, had used mines, grenades, and plastic explosives when setting up the Red Crab Killing Formation. The rest of their arsenal remained largely untouched. But just as the mission seemed nearly complete, this bizarre event had plunged the entire squad into a desperate battle.

Watching his comrades pour forth firepower, Lei Dong calculated that it would not be long before their ammunition ran out—especially the Vulcan cannon in Wu Yun’s hands. Its dense barrage and rapid rate of fire made it their most effective weapon; if it ran dry...

“Ammunition!” Suddenly, inspiration struck Lei Dong. He nearly jumped up.

Whether ordinary men, special soldiers, martial artists, or cultivators—all needed weapons in battle, even if those weapons were merely their fists.

So, what weapon did this opponent wield, the one who had forced his squad of seven cultivators into such dire straits?

A lightsaber.

But how was the lightsaber formed? Where did its "ammunition" come from?

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Amidst the ceaseless leaps, rolls, and gunfire, Lei Dong focused his gaze and spiritual senses entirely on James Sam.

Suspended in midair, James Sam twisted violently. His body was still pinned to that finger, and wave upon wave of white light surged from the statue’s finger into him. Though his meridians were all severed, and his body a hollow shell, the white light spun rapidly within, coalescing and then bursting out through the finger, materializing in the air as a dazzling lightsaber.

Lei Dong could sense, from the finger downward, a familiar energy—the world’s spiritual force—whirling madly inside the statue, accelerating, transforming somehow into this mysterious white light, which then flowed through the finger into James Sam.

The statue stood by the sea, drawing upon the thin but seemingly infinite spiritual energy from the ocean, gathering it to form a field that enveloped the sky and funneled it into the statue’s core.

“So, the world’s spiritual energy is the raw material, the statue is the weapons factory, the finger is the supply line, and the lightsaber is James Sam’s ammunition!”

Realization hit Lei Dong, almost making him shout with joy. His mind slipped, and in a blur, a beam of light slashed from the sky. He dove desperately, and the lightsaber grazed his body, its searing brilliance slicing through his combat suit and opening a long wound on his thigh. Blood poured forth but was instantly cauterized by the heat, leaving his skin with a scorched scent.

“Damn!” Agonizing pain shot through Lei Dong, forcing a cry from his lips.

Since childhood, Lei Dong had trained in the Chaos Method. After discovering he couldn't use his true energy externally, he honed his muscles instead. Since the age of five, he was famed for his iron body, never suffering even the slightest injury—this was the first time anyone had pierced his rock-hard skin!

But Lei Dong felt no shame or sorrow. Instead, he was exhilarated: He had finally found this bastard’s weakness. He couldn’t best the lightsaber, nor destroy the weapons factory, but he could cut off the supply line!

Even as his body rolled across the ground, Lei Dong’s hands flashed two signals in the air, directing the squad to concentrate fire on the finger embedded in James Sam’s back—a probing attack.

Wu Yun’s Vulcan cannon led the charge, six streams of fire lashing toward James Sam’s back with barely a whisper of thunder. Huang Xiwen, Bei Shiliang, Luo Haoran, Song Jingang, and Lang Tianyu all opened fire as well, targeting the statue’s finger—barely as thick as a finger from nearly a hundred meters below—in a powerful, coordinated assault.

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Years of brutal training, relentless combat, and the transformative insights brought by the Chaos Method had honed these men’s vision, hearing, perception, and control over their bodies to a superhuman degree. Without even aiming, they fired at an upward angle at a target suspended in midair, and not a single shot missed—every bullet traced a beautiful, almost straight line toward James Sam’s back.

James Sam instantly sensed the threat. Roaring, he swung his newly formed lightsaber beneath him, creating a sheet of white light.

The bullets, like a swarm of locusts, met the white light and vanished instantly—like tofu against a razor, or snow meeting boiling water, dissolving into thin air. Yet every squad member, seeing James Sam’s reaction, suddenly understood.

Lei Dong was not the squad’s commander; when he signaled them to attack the seemingly ordinary finger, none of them truly knew why. But each obeyed without hesitation.

It was pure instinctive trust.

This man was not only their mentor on the path of cultivation, a sharp-eyed, intuitive natural hunter, and an elite sniper with meticulous observation and formidable combat power—he was the one who always grasped the essence of the matter when it counted, never once failing.

Most importantly, Lei Dong was the comrade they trusted most, the one to whom they could entrust their lives.

They believed that, no matter how unreliable he might seem in daily life, in the moments that mattered he would never gamble with his teammates’ lives.

Now, their trust was vindicated. After James Sam’s reaction, even a fool could see: whatever mysteries lay there, that spot was surely his greatest vulnerability.