My name is Tang Feng, and I’m a shooting major at Southeast Sports University.
My life used to be so peaceful that nothing ever stirred the waters. Every day, I ate, went to class, trained, and slept. In my spare time, I’d play games with my classmates, talk big, shoot the breeze, and chat about which girls had the best figures and which were the prettiest.
A plain life—dull and monotonous.
I thought my future would be spent standing on the Olympic Games stage, winning glory for my country. That was all.
But fate played a cruel joke on me. That summer, it dragged me into a filthy, sinful world full of slaughter, a world there was no turning back from.
Now, I’m a member of the Undertaker Mercenary Group, a sniper feared far and wide, codenamed Assassin.
I never thought I’d take this path, but fate led me down this one-way road to a blood-soaked hell.
During the summer break of 2001, at a classmate’s invitation, I boarded an ocean-going freighter.
Traveling the world, sailing beneath the stars and across the seas—it was every boy’s dream, and I was no exception.
At that age, as an adventurous soul facing a spur-of-the-moment trip, I couldn’t find a single reason to refuse.
Of course, the most important reason was that it wouldn’t cost me a cent, since the captain was my classmate’s father.
He’d spent half his life at sea. Not only was he experienced, he also had a crew of brave sailors under his command. Even when danger arose, he could always get them through it.
From that day on, no one knew where I’d gone, and I didn’t know who to tell. I had no family and had grown up in an orphanage. The Orphanage Director was my only family.
If I had the chance to do it all over again, I’d definitely ask her what she thought. One voice of dissent might have changed my bloodstained life.
Standing on deck, I felt the soft sea breeze brush my cheeks. A few seagulls swept past as the ship’s whistle sounded. Watching the silvery-white coastline gradually recede amid the waves, I knew the journey had begun.
We entered the Pacific from the southern coast and passed through several countries along the way. As I’d hoped, I got to experience foreign customs and see many different sights.
As for other kinds of enjoyment, those could only be had with money. I had none, so all I could do was look.
We spent two days at the port of Antimona, then set off again, crossing the Indian Ocean toward Africa.
That was our destination, and a place I’d long yearned to visit: hot, wild, and free!
Life aboard ship didn’t take much getting used to. After all, I was an athlete, and my physical fitness was no worse than the sailors’. The occasional bout of seasickness only made me more excited. Sometimes, I even hoped a storm would hit. It would make the trip more thrilling.
Unfortunately, we were lucky. The whole way, nothing happened. We encountered no storms, let alone any danger.
That was, until one afternoon, when we entered the waters of the notorious Gulf of Aden.
This was paradise for pirates. I’d seen their crimes on the news. They made their living by robbing passing ships, kidnapping people, and demanding ransoms.
For safety’s sake, the captain went full throttle, intending to cross the Gulf of Aden as quickly as possible.
I looked out at the endless sea, but couldn’t see a single pirate.
Everyone thought we’d get through this without incident.
But just as I was congratulating myself on our good luck, the captain sounded the alarm.
I’d never faced anything like this before. I had no idea what to do, so I just stood on deck like a block of wood, trying not to get in anyone’s way.
I watched the sailors skillfully pull up anti-pirate nets lined with blades. Then they set up two high-pressure water guns on deck. Some of them also brought out repeating crossbows and long-range net launchers from the hold.
I knew we wouldn’t get away.
Maybe the wild side of me had been suppressed for too long. When I came to my senses, I wasn’t afraid at all—instead, I was excited.
I snatched a crossbow from one of the sailors. For a professional shooting athlete, this thing was as easy to use as a toy.
The young are fearless. As I stared out at the vast sea, gripping the crossbow tightly, a glimmer of anticipation rose within me. Just like in the movies, I looked forward to a real fight with the pirates.
I have to say, sometimes I’m amazed by my own ignorance and stupidity.
A moment later, several black dots appeared in the distance.
“They’re here!”
I nervously swallowed and looked through the binoculars. Five speedboats were racing across the sea. There was only one ship here, so they were obviously coming for us.
They were fast and caught up in the blink of an eye. But they didn’t attack directly. Instead, they circled the freighter, trying to force us to stop.
I counted roughly six or seven people on each boat, adding up to around thirty in all. They were all Black.
They had ammunition belts wrapped around their bodies, hand grenades hanging from their waists, and all kinds of weapons in their hands. Some even had RPG rocket launchers slung over their shoulders.
I thought to myself, So these are the famous Somali pirates. Pretty cool.
They looked more or less like I’d imagined, except they were missing eyepatches. Without them, they didn’t seem as fierce—like something was missing.
The speedboats chased the freighter as the pirates fired into the sky and shouted at us. But the captain ignored them and kept going at full speed. As long as we made it out of these waters, we’d be safe.
When they saw the captain had no intention of stopping, two speedboats began closing in. Several pirates fired at the anti-pirate nets along the ship’s sides. Bullets struck the hull with sharp clangs, sending up a string of sparks.
At the sound of gunfire, I instinctively crouched down. I held the crossbow, but didn’t dare look up.
That was when I realized that acting tough was useless. I wasn’t as brave as I’d imagined. When faced with gun barrels, I didn’t even have the courage to stand up.
Just then, two sailors raised high-pressure water guns and began to fight back, not far from where I was.
The water guns weren’t lethal, but they could drive the pirates away. As long as we stopped them from boarding, we had a chance to get through.
Under the water guns’ blast, the speedboats immediately pulled back.
The resistance enraged the pirates. They raised their guns and opened fire on the ship.
Bullets came at us like raindrops. The crossbows and water guns were useless, and the net launchers were meant to tangle the speedboats’ propellers. But at that distance, they couldn’t help either.
The sound of bullets striking the ship filled my ears. I lay on the ground like a useless wreck, unable to do anything but cover my ears.
Suddenly, I felt something land on my head. I reached up and touched it. It was sticky. When I brought my hand in front of me, I saw blood—bright red blood, so vivid it hurt my eyes.
I was completely numb, my body shrinking backward against my will.
I turned my head. The sailor who’d just been holding a water gun was now lying on deck, blood pouring from him.
He’d been hit by a stray bullet. His eyes were wide open, staring in my direction, dead and unseeing.
Trembling, I pressed my head to the ground and covered my face with both hands, unable to look at him.
Fight back? Return fire? Give me a break!
Anyone who’s never been shot at can’t understand that kind of terror, especially after seeing a companion die right in front of them.
At that moment, I had no thoughts except regret. Traveling the world, sailing beneath the stars and across the seas—none of it was worth a thing compared to staying alive.
I didn’t know what else I could do. Faced with the endless sea, there was nowhere to escape and no way back.
I lay there like a lamb waiting for the slaughter, quietly awaiting death.
Thinking about it now, that ordinary, uneventful life was truly wonderful.