On the execution ground, the knife was placed on his neck.
He opened his eyes, and all the memories of a modern special forces soldier appeared in his mind.
The crime of collaborating with the enemy is a dead end? No, he could kill the supervisor, seize the sword and cut the rope, and narrowly escape death under the rain of arrows.
The frontier army was defeated and starved to death? He can use special operations thinking to train an iron army that sweeps across the northern border, making the enemy frightened.
The court is decaying and all forces are at odds? He can put a knife on the neck of every player in this cannibalistic chess game.
My name is Zhao, a death row prisoner in the North.
From today on, I have the final say in this world that is rotten to the core.
