69: Chapter 69 Live Broadcast of Severe Pain

The smoke and dust dissipated.

The entire world was silent.

On that precipice that had been plowed over by crossfire, a bloody and mangled figure lay motionless on the cold rock.

It was like a sculpture that had been shattered in an instant.

The image in the Livestream room froze on this scene.

There were no comments.

There was no sound at all.

There were only the suppressed sobs of countless people, so intense they almost tore through their chests.

"Great Wall" Command Center.

Everyone stood up.

Old Man Long, the white-haired experts, and the young staff officers.

They stared fixedly at the motionless figure on the main screen, their eyes rimmed with red.

Time seemed to be completely frozen at this moment.

Despair, like a cold, massive boulder, weighed down on everyone's heart.

Suddenly.

On the screen.

That hand, stained with blood and dust, hanging off the edge of the rock.

Its index finger.

Slightly.

Curled.

The movement was so faint it was almost imperceptible.

But.

In this instant.

The entire world felt as if a nuclear detonation button had been pressed.

"He moved!"

"His hand moved!"

"Oh my God! He's still alive!!!"

In the Livestream room, that ocean of silence was instantly submerged by a landslide-like tsunami of ecstasy.

Inside the Command Center, the chief medical expert, over seventy years old, watched that tiny movement on the screen, and an unbelievable light burst from his clouded eyes.

His lips trembled as he muttered to himself.

"Impossible... absolutely impossible..."

"The nerve bundles in his back should have been completely severed; how could nerve signals still be reaching his fingertips..."

Old Man Long's tensed body suddenly swayed, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

The guard beside him immediately supported him.

"He's still alive..."

The old general's voice was hoarse and choked with emotion.

"He's still alive!"

Hope.

In the deepest despair, it was rekindled.

But this hope was more heartbreaking than despair.

Because everyone knew what it meant that he was still alive.

It meant he had to continue.

Continue that impossible mission.

[I beg you, don't move anymore!]

[Streamer! We won't withdraw! Just come back quickly!]

[Don't move! If you move again, you'll die!]

The tone of the comments shifted from ecstasy to overwhelming pleading within a few short seconds.

On the screen.

Chen Xi began his movements.

He wanted to prop up his body.

This was a simple, instinctive movement belonging to a three-year-old child.

But at this moment, it was harder than reaching the heavens.

He tried to push up with his arms.

His body refused.

His muscles spasmed.

His bones wailed.

An indescribable agony radiated from his back, as if billions of red-hot steel needles were simultaneously piercing every inch of his nerves.

His body only rose slightly, by a single centimeter.

Then, it slammed back down heavily.

"Pfft."

A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed from his mouth, blooming into an alluring red lotus on the cold rock.

His vision went pitch black.

There was only the sharp, endless ringing in his ears.

In the Livestream room, a viewer with the ID "Shanghai First Affiliated Hospital - Neurosurgery - Dr. Wang" posted a trembling comment.

[His spine... might be broken... I don't dare imagine what kind of pain he is enduring right now...]

This comment was like a knife stabbing into everyone's heart.

Chen Xi lay on the ground, gasping violently.

Every breath carried a heavy scent of blood.

He could feel his life force draining away rapidly.

But he couldn't stop.

He tried again.

Push up.

His arms were shaking violently.

Sweat, mixed with blood, slid down from his forehead and dripped into his eyes.

Stinging.

Piercing.

He clenched his teeth; because he was using too much force, his lip was bitten through, and blood flowed down the corner of his mouth.

[Stop pushing! I beg you!]

[I can't watch this... I really can't watch this anymore...]

In an army cafeteria, a young Soldier in his early twenties who was watching the livestream with his comrades could no longer hold it in and burst into loud wailing as he looked at the struggling figure on the screen.

The Old Squad Leader beside him, a hardened veteran who had participated in border wars, said nothing, but silently gave a standard military salute to the screen.

In his eyes was endless, sublime respect.

One centimeter.

Two centimeters.

Three centimeters.

Chen Xi's body, in an extremely slow and agonizing manner, left that cold rock bit by bit.

In his world, there was no longer any sound, no longer any color.

Only two things remained.

Fighting the pain.

Completing the mission.

The hook of the Main Cable was right by his hand.

He needed to fix it to the anchor point he had protected with his own flesh and blood.

He finally, barely, propped up half his body.

He reached out his hand to grab the hook.

That high-strength alloy hook, which would normally only require a single finger to lift.

At this moment, it was as heavy as a mountain.

His hand shook violently in mid-air.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He tried three times and failed to grab it.

His hand, soaked in blood and sweat, was too slippery.

The fourth time.

He used every ounce of strength in his body.

Finally, his fingertips touched the cold hook.

He hooked onto it.

Then, he had to lift it and align it with the slot of the anchor point.

This simple movement exhausted all the strength he had just gathered.

His body lost its support once again.

He fell forward heavily.

With a "boom."

His head slammed hard against the solid rock wall.

Blood flowed down from his forehead, blurring his vision.

The whole world was spinning.

[Streamer!]

[Master Xi!]

[Please don't!]

The Livestream room was completely transformed into a sea of tears.

Everyone thought he had reached his limit.

But.

He hadn't.

A few seconds later.

He slowly lifted his head once more.

His gaze had already lost focus.

But he still stared fixedly at the slot that was right before him.

There was the way home for over four hundred Soldiers.

There was the future China that Little Chen had traded his life for.

He lifted the hook.

With an almost paranoid, rigid posture.

Bit by bit, he sent it toward the slot.

Aligned.

His hand was shaking.

The tip of the hook slid back and forth on the edge of the slot.

It just wouldn't go in.

Just a little bit more.

Just a tiny bit more.

He let out a beast-like, suppressed low growl.

He poured all his will, all his strength, into this trembling arm.

Steady.

Must be steady.

Click.

A crisp sound of metal snapping into place suddenly rang out.

On this battlefield filled with the echoes of guns and the howling of the wind.

This sound was so faint it was almost inaudible.

But it was like a thunderclap from the highest heavens.

Clearly, it exploded in everyone's ears.

Success.

The hook was locked tight.

The mission was complete.

The moment he heard that crisp sound.

The string of Chen Xi's will, which had been tensed to the limit.

Snapped.

All his strength, all his spirit, were drained completely at this moment.

His body went completely limp.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, he fell silently from the rock wall toward the endless darkness below.

The safety rope tightened in an instant.

Suspending him in mid-air.

He was like a broken doll, gently swaying in the night wind.

Blood dripped from his body.

In the dark canyon, it traced a long, tragic arc.

The image in the Livestream room.

At this moment.

Suddenly went black.

[Signal Interrupted]

Those four cold words appeared in the center of the screen.