Chapter Fourteen: Fond of Playing Sniper Games?

Fortunately, after he took cover behind the tiger’s corpse, no further gunshots rang out.

He took several deep breaths, glancing at his shoulder.

If not for that sudden, splitting headache a moment ago, which made his body pause ever so slightly, the bullet would not have blown through his shoulder...

It would have been his head!

They were clearly out for his life!

“Damn it!”

Fang Mu gritted his teeth hard.

They always said the battlefield was dangerous—that sometimes humans were even more terrifying than the missions themselves.

He’d never experienced it before... but today, he had learned his lesson.

His face grew grim, but soon he drew a deep breath and began to examine his wound.

“It’s a 12.5mm sniper round... definitely a sniper rifle.”

A thumb-thick exit wound marred his shoulder, the flesh inside faintly scorched, blood streaming ceaselessly. Judging from the bullet hole, he could guess what kind of ammunition had been used.

“Good thing I’ve already become an Iron-tier Evolver. My bones and flesh have been strengthened once through evolution. Otherwise, this shot would have been enough to shatter half my body.”

Fang Mu’s jaw was clenched so tightly it might break.

But soon, he forced himself to calm down, took a deep breath, and, focusing his thoughts, channeled some of his genetic primal energy toward the wound.

Immediately, the searing pain in his shoulder cooled with the surge of gene energy, and the pain was greatly alleviated.

At the same time, he noticed the bleeding slow dramatically, replaced by a faint itching within the wound...

Fang Mu let out a breath of relief.

Genetic primal energy could greatly enhance gene activity, just as expected.

Moreover, as an Evolver, his genes were already far more active than those of ordinary people after one evolution. With the boost of gene energy, this level of injury was not fatal.

At this rate, in less than an hour—perhaps even less—his shoulder wound might heal completely.

Once he was sure he was in no mortal danger, Fang Mu began to take stock of his surroundings.

Clearly, someone wanted him dead.

As for the reason?

He didn’t know.

But now was not the time to investigate.

Because, whatever their motive, it was certain they had launched a deadly attack against him.

And he was still far from safe!

He thought quickly. Judging by the two shots just now, there were at least two people with sniper rifles. Whether they were true Gunfighters was unclear, since neither had used gun techniques with the last two shots.

But that didn’t mean there were only two people. There could easily be others less skilled with firearms...

The situation was dire!

And Fang Mu’s current position was extremely awkward. To facilitate hunting the Gale Tiger, he had deliberately waited until it reached a relatively open area before firing. As a result, the nearest cover was more than sixty meters away.

Even at full speed, the Gale Tiger would need over a second to reach it. For him, it would take at least five seconds!

And for a skilled sniper, five seconds was more than enough for two or three precise kills!

Especially since his position was now clearly marked by at least two enemy snipers... the chance of making it across was extremely slim.

He couldn’t take the risk!

Fang Mu’s eyes flickered.

Apart from his brief daze when nearly shot, he had regained his composure—and was growing ever calmer.

He had always been of a steady temperament; even his firearms instructor at the academy had praised him as possessing all the qualities of an excellent sniper.

He simply lacked experience.

After pondering for a while, Fang Mu gritted his teeth.

“There’s nothing for it but to gamble...”

Having made up his mind, he first flexed his right hand, testing the pain in his shoulder.

The right shoulder was crucial for shooting accuracy, and now, badly wounded, it would surely affect his aim.

He needed to assess just how much.

After some time, he exhaled softly.

His evolved body was much improved in every aspect; though the wound still affected him, with some grit, he could push through it.

With that conclusion, he relaxed slightly. With a thought, a shovel and a palm-sized mirror appeared in his left hand.

On the battlefield, mirrors had many uses; snipers, in particular, often needed them. Naturally, Fang Mu had come prepared.

Lying on his side at the edge of the tiger’s corpse, he used its bulk to cover himself as much as possible. Fortunately, this Gale Tiger was large enough—lying flat, it still stood a meter and a half high, giving him ample room.

He tore a strip of fabric from his ghillie suit, wound it around the mirror and shovel, and tightened it securely. Once satisfied, he exhaled, eyes cold.

First, he had to find the enemy’s position. Then he could plan his next move.

He carefully extended the shovel with the mirror attached, inching it out from behind the tiger’s tail...

He knew his position was already marked; poking his head out would only result in a bullet to the skull—there was no underestimating an Evolver’s reflexes.

So, he would use the mirror to locate the enemy first.

Soon, the other side’s scene appeared in the mirror, though the image was small and indistinct, showing only rolling yellow mounds. However, since becoming Iron-tier, Fang Mu’s eyesight had improved dramatically. With careful scrutiny, he could make out details.

He concentrated, slowly moving the shovel and rotating the mirror...

Crack!

Suddenly, a clump of dirt leapt off the edge of the shovel, followed by a thunderous gunshot.

The enemy had fired again!

They must have spotted his mirror and tried to shoot it.

However, the shooter’s aim wasn’t quite good enough—or perhaps the distance was simply too great. The bullet missed the mirror, only grazing past.

But the gunshot revealed their position.

Fang Mu’s eyes narrowed. He quickly adjusted the mirror’s angle, and his pupils contracted...

“Found them...”

He squinted.

On a high ridge about seven hundred meters away, four figures could be seen.

Two were prone, aiming sniper rifles in his direction. The other two stood beside them, unarmed.

So, it was them who wanted him dead?

Crack!

The mirror shattered, the shovel was struck and jerked away by a tremendous force. Caught off guard, Fang Mu lost his grip. Only then did the next gunshot reach his ears.

This time, they had hit.

But Fang Mu’s face was expressionless.

He could tell—one of the two snipers was decent, but the other was fairly average...

Four people, two snipers?

They wanted to kill him?

Enjoyed the hunt?

Fang Mu was seething with fury, yet his expression only grew calmer.

He pondered for a moment, then exhaled softly and began removing his ghillie suit. With a wave of his hand, his tactical backpack, previously stored in his spatial arsenal, appeared at his side.

Without a word, he draped the ghillie suit over the backpack, wrapped it several times, and tidied it up. Then, facing the tiger’s corpse—or more precisely, the direction of the four enemies—he crouched, raising his G-301 in his right hand.

The exertion forced more blood from his wounded shoulder, making his face twitch, but he gritted his teeth and bore it, steadily increasing the force until his shoulder was nearly numb.

He panted, beads of sweat dripping from his brow from the pain.

Then, with his right hand bracing the rifle, his left gripped the backpack’s strap.

He closed his eyes, regulating his breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow. When he was steady, he suddenly opened his eyes, now razor sharp.

His left hand exploded with force, hurling the almost empty tactical backpack from behind the tiger’s corpse in an arc.

Whoosh!

With Iron-tier strength, he could throw a ten-odd-pound backpack over ten meters without effort, well past the tiger’s cover.

Fang Mu didn’t move—he was waiting.

Bang! Bang!

Two shots rang out almost simultaneously.

Without checking whether the backpack was hit, Fang Mu’s eyes flashed as the gunfire sounded. Without hesitation, he sprang up, left hand supporting the rifle’s stock, G-301 pointed straight at the four targets.

Through the scope, a target snapped into view!

Wind speed, humidity, distance, angle...

Never had all these factors registered so swiftly and clearly in his mind.

His brain entered a state of absolute lucidity, every detail instantly outlined.

Once it all assembled in his mind, he remained expressionless, decisive, pulling the trigger.

BOOM!

The gun thundered...