I Am Extraordinary Alone
Chapter 39 - 38: Leveraging Force

Chapter 39: Chapter 38: Leveraging Force

"It’s a rocket launcher, no doubt."

Wei Tianyang thought, and the next second, the missile shattered the other half of the minibus’s windshield and flew toward his forehead.

He bent down.

A smell like car exhaust rushed into his nostrils, his right ear felt hot, and his whole body involuntarily trembled, and before he could react, he had instinctively dropped to the ground.

Before his hands touched the ground, the minibus’s rear windshield shattered with a crash.

The missile had passed through.

He was damn lucky! Wei Tianyang looked back at the vehicle, his scalp tingling, his hair feeling like tens of thousands of needles were inserted into it, chilly.

"Ishmael!" Starbucks yelled to the back.

"Keep driving!" Wei Tianyang shouted.

He grabbed the railing and stood up; in the distance, conservative soldiers with rocket launchers were reloading.

They were crazy, firing in the streets.

Starbucks violently turned the steering wheel to the left, and the minibus swung its head, colliding with a bus stop sign by the roadside.

Wei Tianyang was thrown against the ammunition box by inertia, his elbow smashing the window, reaching out his hand with the gun barrel protruding from his palm.

A barrage of bullets flew out, knocking soldiers with the rocket launcher flipping out of the truck’s bed and crashing to the ground.

Starbucks straightened up, gripping the steering wheel with his left hand while his right arm dangled at his side, blood streaming from the wound as the minibus finally straightened its path on the narrow road.

Wei Tianyang came forward to check the injury, and she said dismissively, "Don’t worry about it, Yaha can handle it."

A harsh braking sound came from the right.

He hadn’t turned his head when the crash followed the honking.

The minibus, like taking a left hook, headed toward the hardware store on the side of the road.

When Wei Tianyang realized he was airborne, his back had already struck a hard board, then he fell onto the concrete steps and rolled down several meters sideways.

His vision was tinged with red, the surrounding noise echoing loudly, his back terribly painful, his mouth sweet and sticky, an indescribable sensation in his abdomen, and his left arm numb.

He shook his head and struggled to rise from the ground, spotting a small pool of blood on the concrete in front of him.

"Motherfucker."

He cursed, sure he was bleeding somewhere.

Well... everywhere was broken.

He looked up, saw the minibus lodged in the hardware store, half of the vehicle embedded inside the shutter door—if someone had been at the counter, they might have been killed.

It was a conservative faction’s military truck that had hit them.

That truck was parked by the roadside, about a dozen soldiers jumped down and opened fire toward the minibus.

Wei Tianyang extended his palm, but this time, the AK47 did not fire.

No bullets left...

He shook his right arm, indeed feeling much lighter than before.

Damn it, Starbucks.

Yaha probably couldn’t transfer death.

He unwrapped the bandage on his right arm, recalling the past incidents, and found that slight sensation.

Clutching his right fist, the flesh-filled palm and forearm began to display dark gray striated luminescence.

Then, the injuries on his body healed, but his right arm again became thin and angular, resembling malnourished deformity, with dark skin wrapped around the bones, the skin on the back of the hand showing blue veins and blood vessels.

The Bone Knife emerged.

Wei Tianyang charged forward, adrenaline making him forget fear and danger, as well as pain and fatigue; at that moment, he had only one thought: to kill them all!

He swung his arm, instantly bringing down six soldiers, their blood swirling into his right hand, the flesh slowly filling out.

"Behind!" the soldiers turned their guns.

Wei Tianyang somersaulted to the side, tucking into the rear of the truck.

The expected gunfire didn’t come, the soldiers pulled the triggers, but only monotonous clicking sounds ensued.

Further away, crisp bursts of gunfire rang out.

Starbucks cleared the glass shards from the minibar’s ledge with the stock of his gun and set up a Type 90 rifle. Clutching the handle with only his left hand, he fired bursts at the soldiers.

Wei Tianyang leaned out from the other side of the truck and saw a green halo flickering in Starbucks’s eyes.

Was her superpower causing the enemy’s guns to malfunction?

Wei Tianyang put away his Bone Knife, clenched his right fist, and smashed it towards the truck.

The truck, struck with a force of over ten tons, dented and rolled several meters away, crushing the soldiers hiding on the other side into a minced mess.

Then, the truck began to undergo annihilation. Black fist marks stretched out like web-like erosive patterns around it, and both the dump body and the cab slowly dissolved into nothingness.

He sprinted to the minibus door; Starbucks was in not too bad shape, with only a large gash opened on her forehead and half her face covered in blood, but she was still spirited.

"Why is there no movement from the peacekeeping forces?" Wei Tianyang asked.

"Forget the peacekeeping forces, the vehicle seems to be stuck," Starbucks replied.

"Go to the driver’s seat," Wei Tianyang said.

As he spoke, he grabbed the edge of the minibus’s door and, with a fierce pull, he actually yanked the minibus out from the ruins of the hardware store.

At the same time, he sensed something.

His strength did not come from his muscles.

If he possessed the ability to strike with over ten tons of force and to pull, he should not be so frail.

While using this strength, the muscle’s force generation was merely an operation of bodily structure; the muscle-generated force was not that great.

This power...

It seemed to come from some tool.

Like a mechanic elevating several tonnes of cars with a jack, like a construction worker using a tower crane to lift tens of tons of materials hundreds of meters high, like a soldier pulling a rifle trigger to fire bullets with over 3000 joules of kinetic energy.

He waved his arm, borrowing the power of the crippled giant.

Every time he swung his fist, his opponents faced a strike from a giant several tens of meters tall—cruel and real.

Around the street corner, more military vehicles approached them.

"You drive back first, I’ll hold them off," Wei Tianyang said.

"What is this, some cliché movie scenario?" Starbucks cursed.

Then, she added, "If we go, we go together."

"They are no match for me. You’re bleeding like a waterfall, if you don’t go back to Yaha now, you’ll start seeing your life flash before your eyes! Just go!" Wei Tianyang said.

"You’re right... See you tonight, Ishmael. I’ll thank you then," Starbucks compromised.

She jumped into the driver’s seat and restarted the vehicle.

"Don’t die!" Starbucks yelled.

The minibus drove over the concrete steps and onto the main road.

Wei Tianyang turned around, facing the approaching military vehicles, and charged with his fists clenched.

The slaughter began.

The battle did not last as long as Wei Tianyang had imagined. With blood surging, the soldiers lay lifeless on the ground, the heavy trucks on the verge of collapse, their wreckage smeared in black patterns that gradually faded.

More than twenty people died at his hands. At the moment when the blood surged into his palm, the bullets in the AK47 were reloaded.

He did not want to admit it, but he had to acknowledge that when the blood surged into his body, he gained a certain physiological and psychological satisfaction.

It was like some kind of instinctive emotion being released, like a baby sucking on a plastic nipple.

His injuries, and the rifle hidden in his forearm, also got replenished by the blood obtained from killing.

Not only that...

The inexplicable palpitation in his heart made him feel as though something was changing in the unknown.

Everything was still uncertain, but right now, he was not in a hurry to go back.

Jumping into a Jeep, Wei Tianyang went off to fulfill another promise.

In the city’s only mountain, surrounded by POW camps, the spark of revolution was there.

He was going to find Li Fei, and in this suffering land, reignite the fire of liberation.