"Screech!"
The piercing sound of tires skidding against the pavement echoed in front of the city's most bustling hotspot—the "Black Panther Bar." A military jeep belonging to the elite of the elite, the Seventh Team of the Special Forces, came to an abrupt halt.
Amidst wild laughter and whoops, Xiang Shaolong and his three teammates grabbed the door frame and leaped out of the vehicle. After three grueling months of physical and tactical training in the Gobi Desert, they finally had a rare three-day leave. If they didn't make the most of it, how could they ever face their parents who brought them into this world?
Xiang Shaolong was twenty years old, his sun-tanned skin gleaming with vitality. He might not have been classically handsome, but his near two-meter-tall frame, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, and rock-solid muscles without an ounce of excess fat made him a striking figure. His sharp, intelligent eyes, straight nose, rounded cheekbones, and square jawline, combined with the teasing smirk at the corner of his lips that seemed tailor-made to charm women, gave him all the qualities to make any woman swoon.
Just as they were about to stride into the bar, chaos erupted. Amidst the sound of crashing objects and angry shouts, two of their teammates—Little Zhang and Mighty Ox—were hurled out the door, landing in a tangled heap on the ground. Groaning, they struggled to get up, but what should have been a simple task proved nearly impossible for these two elite soldiers.
The four men's expressions darkened as they rushed forward to help their comrades up. Rhinoceros Leopard, whose forehead bore a fleshy lump, asked in shock, "How many are there?"
The question was justified. Little Zhang and Mighty Ox, like them, were part of the Seventh Special Team—handpicked from the nation's military to undergo extreme training for high-risk missions: counter-terrorism, assassinations or rescues in hostile nations, VIP protection, and more. Their training covered everything from weapon mastery, hand-to-hand combat, endurance, wilderness survival, to espionage techniques—essentially molding them into superhuman soldiers. Even a dozen ordinary tough guys wouldn't stand a chance against them.
Yet, their elite status also made them targets of envy. Troublemakers from other units took pride in taking down Seventh Team members. Bar brawls during leave were practically routine, but being thrown out like this was a first.
Little Zhang, now slightly more coherent, opened his bruised eyes and, upon seeing Xiang Shaolong, exclaimed joyfully, "Brother Long! Teach those bastards a lesson!"
In the team, everyone respectfully called Xiang Shaolong "Brother Long"—not because he was older, but because he was their top marksman, free combat champion, and the fittest among them.
Mighty Ox, panting, pointed inside the bar. "It's Blackface, the instructor from the 841st Unit. He had the nerve to hit on our Ice Queen."
The four men erupted in fury. The Ice Queen, Zheng Cuizhi, was the beautiful secretary of their team's commander. None of them had successfully wooed her yet—how could they let outsiders make a move?
Xiang Shaolong's fingers itched for a fight. Puffing out his chest, he declared, "Help them inside! Time for me to show off my skills!" With that, he strode boldly into the bar.
The spacious bar was thick with smoke, the deafening mix of voices and music drowning out all else. Half the crowd consisted of military and police personnel blowing off steam, along with a few foreigners. The remaining thirty or so were civilians, all adding to the rowdy, electric atmosphere.
The moment he appeared in the doorway, the bar fell silent.
The towering, muscular Blackface and over a dozen of his men, all in civilian clothes, lounged by the long bar with a few scantily clad women. The Ice Queen, Zheng Cuizhi, was nestled against Blackface's side, her slender waist in his grip. Spotting Xiang Shaolong—who usually paid her no attention—she deliberately pressed her voluptuous body closer to Blackface and even planted a kiss on his cheek.
Blackface's eyes lit up at the sight of Xiang Shaolong. His hand slid down to Zheng Cuizhi's ample backside, giving it a firm slap. "One-on-one, or all at once?" he taunted.
An unwritten rule among soldiers was that fights were to be fist-only. Unless it was a blood feud or tempers flared beyond control, weapons like knives or broken bottles were off-limits—lest things escalate beyond repair and military police got involved.
Xiang Shaolong's gaze landed on the bar's queen, Zhou Xiangmei, leaning seductively against a table, smiling at him. His confidence surged. Casually, he replied, "Against someone like you? I'll take whatever you throw at me. Your call."
The crowd—men and women alike—erupted in cheers and laughter, fueling the fiery atmosphere.
Little Zhang sidled up to him, whispering a warning, "Be careful. This guy's no pushover."
Someone in the crowd jeered, "Someone's scared!"
The spectators roared with laughter.
Mighty Ox also approached, murmuring, "Those two behind Blackface are the top champions from the local Hong Boxing Gym. They came prepared—to humiliate us."
Xiang Shaolong had already noticed the two men exuding menace. "Assessing the environment" was the second principle of the Special Forces' seven core tenets—right after "thorough preparation" and before "staying calm." He kept his voice low. "Tell the others to stay out of it. I can handle these three alone."
Blackface shrugged off his suit jacket, handed it to the Ice Queen, and stepped forward. "Xiang Shaolong," he sneered. "I've been waiting for this. Last time at the Wildcat Karaoke, you took out over a dozen of my men. Today, we settle the score."
Xiang Shaolong signaled his five comrades to step back, then closed the distance, stopping four paces from Blackface. With deliberate calm, he called to the bartender, "Get me a fresh milk. I'll need it to quench my thirst after teaching Blackface a lesson."
The crowd burst into laughter.
One of Blackface's men heckled, "Kid's gonna need all the milk he can get!"
Blackface feinted left, then launched a vicious kick at Xiang Shaolong's shin.
Xiang Shaolong sidestepped effortlessly.
The crowd roared as the fight began, egging them on.
Blackface bellowed, charging forward, ducking low to deliver a double-fisted strike to the chest. Xiang Shaolong retreated again, dodging the blows.
Mockery erupted as the spectators saw him only dodging, not striking back. Blackface's men hurled insults.
Emboldened, Blackface curled his fingers into a phoenix-eye fist and lunged, aiming a punch straight at Xiang Shaolong's nose.
Xiang Shaolong thought, *Perfect timing.* He waited until the fist was inches from his face before suddenly leaping backward, as if blown away by the punch.
The crowd went wild.
His teammates knew he hadn't been hit, but they were puzzled why he wasn't counterattacking. Xiang Shaolong retreated six steps, then deliberately fell backward—right into the lap of the bar's queen, Zhou Xiangmei.
She shrieked in surprise.
Blackface, enraged, charged like a mad bull.
Xiang Shaolong roared, twisted his body—taking the opportunity to grope Zhou Xiangmei's ample bosom—and then sprang up like a coiled spring, lunging headfirst at Blackface. Ignoring the fists hammering toward his back, he drove his skull straight into Blackface's stomach.
Before Blackface could land a single blow, an irresistible force lifted his 100-kilogram body off the ground and sent him flying backward, crashing squarely in the middle of the dance floor.
The bar fell dead silent. The raucous noise vanished, leaving only the pulsing beat of rock music from the speakers in each corner.
Xiang Shaolong pounced like a tiger, charging at the sprawled Blackface.
The two professional boxers Blackface had hired saw the situation turning sour and rushed out, circling their fallen comrade to flank Xiang Shaolong.
His teammates—Mighty Ox, Little Zhang, and the others—shouted curses at the unfairness but didn't intervene. No one had more faith in Xiang Shaolong than they did.
The fight ended in a blink.
Xiang Shaolong weaved between the two boxers, dodging their strikes, then lunged like a panther. An elbow to the ribs sent the left boxer crumpling, while his right hand blocked the other's punch before delivering two brutal knee strikes to the abdomen. By the time the right boxer collapsed in agony, Blackface had barely staggered to his feet—only to eat a devastating punch to the nose.
With a howl, blood gushed from Blackface's nose as he toppled onto Zheng Cuizhi, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Xiang Shaolong laughed heartily, pointing at Blackface's men. "Come on! All of you at once!"
Mighty Ox and the others stepped forward, cracking their knuckles.
Zheng Cuizhi scrambled up, screeching, "Xiang Shaolong! Just you wait! You'll pay for this!"
Xiang Shaolong ignored her, striding over to Zhou Xiangmei. He yanked her up and dragged her straight out of the bar.
"Where are you taking me?" she protested.
Xiang Shaolong lifted her into the passenger seat of the jeep and grinned. "Home, of course. I can't afford a hotel."
**Ring—**
The sharp sound of the phone jerked Xiang Shaolong awake. Trained by years of military discipline, he immediately disentangled himself from Zhou Xiangmei's limbs and grabbed the receiver.
Zheng Cuizhi's crisp voice came through: "Captain Xiang, you have fifteen minutes to get ready. The military police's armored vehicle is waiting outside."
Zhou Xiangmei moaned sleepily, "You brute… come back here!"
Xiang Shaolong rubbed his sore lower back—still aching from last night's marathon escapades—and exclaimed, "Are you kidding? A bar fight can't be *that* serious!"
Zheng Cuizhi replied coolly, "Who said it's about the fight? The Science Academy needs the fittest Special Forces member for an experiment. After your *heroics* last night, I recommended you. The commander's already signed off."
Xiang Shaolong gritted his teeth. She was clearly taking revenge. "But today's my day off!"
Zheng Cuizhi giggled. "Captain Xiang, leave is only granted when there are no missions. A soldier belongs to the nation 24/7."
Xiang Shaolong wanted to strangle her. Instead, he sighed dramatically. "Ah, last night's *heroics* were all for you. Don't tell me you didn't notice?"
Zhou Xiangmei, now fully awake and still naked, crawled out of the sheets. "Who are you talking to?"
Xiang Shaolong quickly signaled for her to stay quiet.
A brief silence on the other end of the line. Then, softly, Zheng Cuizhi said, "You're lying."
Covering Zhou Xiangmei's mouth, Xiang Shaolong turned on the charm. "Would I lie to you? I think about you day and night—I just never said it out loud! Don't you know—"
Zheng Cuizhi cut him off. "Enough! We'll talk later. At most, you'll be a lab rat for one day. Next time, I'll pick someone else. Now get dressed."
*Click.* The line went dead.
The armored vehicle stopped at the heavily guarded gates of the Science Academy. Xiang Shaolong, feeling like a prisoner, was escorted inside by four military police officers and handed over to the institute's security team. He was then led to a room filled with medical equipment, where he underwent a full-body examination.
Once the doctor signed off, a nurse wheeled him out. Xiang Shaolong, still lying on the gurney, protested, "I'm not sick. I can walk."
The nurse, clearly amused, leaned down and smiled. "Just behave, tough guy. I know you're not sick—you're stronger than an ox."
Ever the flirt, Xiang Shaolong grinned. "Hey, what's your name? How can I find you later?"
The nurse rolled her eyes and ignored him.
Gate after gate slid open as they descended deeper into the facility. At an elevator, eight armed guards took over.
Xiang Shaolong's heart pounded. What kind of experiment was this? Why was the lab buried underground?
The elevator descended at least ten floors before stopping. The guards wheeled him through several more checkpoints until they reached a vast hall.
Xiang Shaolong sat up abruptly, eyes widening in shock.
At the far end of the hall stood a colossal, metallic structure resembling a giant furnace, towering nearly thirty meters high.
The hall was packed with advanced equipment, resembling the interior of a massive spaceship. Over a hundred white-coated researchers bustled around, operating various instruments.
The hall had two levels, the upper one enclosed by glass, where even more scientists monitored screens and controls. Some pointed at him through the glass, murmuring.
Xiang Shaolong was baffled. *What the hell is going on?* The sheer scale and seriousness of this setup was no joke.
A male and female researcher approached. The man smiled. "I'm Dr. Fang Ting. This is Dr. Xie Zhimin. We're assistants to Director Ma Ke, the lead engineer of the Space-Time Project."
Xiang Shaolong stood. "Mind telling me what this is about? At least let me know why I'm here!"
Dr. Xie Zhimin, a plain-looking woman with a stern demeanor, said flatly, "Relax. It's perfectly safe. Director Ma will explain the details."
Dr. Fang Ting added, "A soldier's duty is to serve the nation. You should be honored to be the first human test subject for the Space-Time Project. Come."
Xiang Shaolong shook his head wryly and followed them toward the massive structure. *What kind of luck did I stumble into today?*
Xiang Shaolong lay strapped inside a metallic human-shaped capsule, limbs, waist, and neck secured tightly. He was now a helpless lab rat.
As he cursed Zheng Cuizhi and fantasized about revenge—dragging her to bed and teaching her a lesson—the capsule's lid opened, revealing an elderly, bespectacled man peering down at him.
"I'm Director Ma Ke," the man said cheerfully. "How are you feeling, Captain Xiang?"
Xiang Shaolong snorted. "Like livestock headed for slaughter. Not sure if it's for pork or beef yet."
Director Ma chuckled dryly. "You've got a sense of humor." He paused. "Which era of our nation's history are you most familiar with?"
Xiang Shaolong frowned. "What does that have to do with the experiment?"
Director Ma's smile faded. "Just answer the question."
Xiang Shaolong sighed inwardly, eager to get this over with. "I don't know much history, but I recently watched that *Qin Shi Huang* movie. His Epang Palace and decadent lifestyle looked pretty enviable. I also read a few books about the Warring States and Qin Shi Huang—"
Director Ma cut him off impatiently. "Good enough. The Qin Empire it is—246 BC, the first year of King Zheng's reign." He repeated the date into his lapel mic.
Xiang Shaolong blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Director Ma's eyes sparkled with excitement. He reached down to pat Xiang Shaolong's cheek. "My friend, you're incredibly lucky. You're about to become the first human in history to travel back in time."
Xiang Shaolong stared. "You—"
Director Ma wasn't listening. "Ever seen that TV show *The Time Tunnel*? Well, this is the real deal! No longer fiction—it's reality! Soon, I'll revolutionize humanity's understanding of time and space—"
Still strapped inside the capsule, Xiang Shaolong couldn't see anything. He struggled. "Stop joking. Just tell me what this experiment is!"
Director Ma prattled on, undeterred. "Soon, you'll be placed inside the Time Furnace. With the press of a button, the hydrogen fusion reactor at its base will accumulate enough energy in thirty-six hours to create an energy singularity—a black hole in the furnace's core. That will rupture space-time, and the magnetic field transmitter will send you back to the ancient world. Isn't that incredible?"
Cold sweat dripped down Xiang Shaolong's back. This man was a mad scientist. "You're not serious."
Director Ma beamed. "Dead serious. I've already successfully sent twelve white mice and two monkeys back in time and brought them home safely. Sadly, they couldn't tell me about their experience. That's why we need a human subject—preferably a top-tier soldier like you."
Xiang Shaolong paled. "I don't consent. I quit the military, effective immediately!"
Director Ma scowled. "No need to panic. You'll only be there for ten seconds—like a brief dream. I just need you to remember what happened. Proceed with the injection."
As Xiang Shaolong protested, a technician injected him with a syringe. His vision blurred, consciousness slipping away as the capsule lid sealed shut.
The metallic capsule slid into the Time Furnace.
The lab erupted into activity. Hundreds of researchers monitored screens, adjusting controls as countdown sequences initiated.
The final moments arrived. The lab's speakers boomed:
"Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight—"
An alarm blared.
A panicked voice crackled over the comms: "Director Ma! Energy levels inside the furnace are spiking abnormally! Should we shut it down?"
"Forty-eight, forty-seven—"
All eyes turned to Director Ma.
"Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven—"
Sweat beaded on Director Ma's forehead as he watched the energy readings skyrocket. After a tense pause, he raised a trembling hand.
"Initiate Emergency Protocol Five!"
A thunderous explosion rocked the furnace. The entire lab trembled as a blinding white light erupted from the Time Furnace, consuming everything in its path.
In an instant, the underground facility—along with everyone inside—was vaporized into nothingness. Not a single trace remained.
No one survived.