Chapter Sixteen: The Outcome of a Single Shot

Boom!

The explosion thundered, a burst of flame erupting nearby.

It was none other than Gun Art—“Blazing Fire”!

Wang Cheng let out a wretched scream. He and Li Tao had been lying together, close enough that they were the first to be caught in the blaze of “Blazing Fire.”

Howling in pain, Wang Cheng rolled desperately across the ground, extinguishing the flames that had consumed his body. Most of his figure was now charred black, the pain searing down to his bones.

Damn it!

Wracked with rage and terror, Wang Cheng didn’t hesitate—he sprang back, retreating over the other side of the hill.

“Wang Cheng, didn’t you say the enemy could only use ‘Blazing Fire’ twice? What’s going on?!”

On the opposite slope, Zhou Yang—the bald man—and another companion were already prone in hiding. Seeing Wang Cheng rush over, Zhou Yang erupted in fury, roaring at him.

Wang Cheng was already wounded, and now faced with such an accusation, his face grew even darker as his anger warred with speechlessness.

By all rights, it should have been so!

“Blazing Fire” consumed vast energy; a typical Black Iron rank should only be able to fire it twice in succession.

Unless the enemy wasn’t Black Iron rank?

But how could that be! For a Bronze rank, a single “Blazing Fire” would be more than enough to hunt a Gale Tiger—there’d be no need for a second shot.

“Enough, now isn’t the time for this... Li Tao is dead.”

Li Yao, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His deep voice gave the others pause before they turned to look in Li Tao’s direction.

A bullet hole marked the center of Li Tao’s brow, his whole body engulfed in flames, already burnt beyond recognition.

The head is a human’s fatal weakness—once pierced, even if not blown through, death is certain.

What’s more, the enemy had used “Blazing Fire.” Under such flames, even if by some miracle he had survived, there would still be no hope.

Staring at Li Tao’s ravaged body, Wang Cheng felt a flicker of relief—he knew all too well that if that bullet hadn’t hit Li Tao, it would have struck him.

Only the two of them carried sniper rifles, only they had long-range capabilities. The enemy would naturally prioritize eliminating the two of them.

He’d felt that chilling sense of mortal danger—every hair standing on end. In the end, Li Tao had died in his place...

A rush of fear and relief welled up within him.

“Damn it, if Wang Cheng hadn’t decided out of nowhere to kill and rob, would Li Tao have died? Bastard!”

Zhou Yang was beside himself with rage. He’d been close to Li Tao, and his friend’s death had driven him to the brink.

Wang Cheng, knowing he was at fault, could only remain silent, his face ashen with shame and anger.

“That’s enough. What’s done is done; talking about it is useless. The enemy is dangerous—he shot Li Tao clean through the head in these circumstances, which means he’s an exceptional sniper. We’ve made him our mortal enemy. First, we need to handle this threat... You both know what it means to be marked by a sniper like that?”

Li Yao’s voice was cool and composed, his words like a bucket of cold water poured over them, sobering their fury.

Li Yao’s standing in their team was significant; he was the strongest among them, always serving as the de facto leader.

And his words sent a chill through them.

To be marked by a fearsome sniper meant that from now on, no matter where they were on the battlefield, they’d have to live in constant fear—for who could guarantee that a bullet wouldn’t come from nowhere and end their lives?

“Wang Cheng, be honest. Can you snipe him?”

Li Yao turned to Wang Cheng, asking seriously.

Wang Cheng’s heart skipped. The image of the man he’d seen through his scope replayed in his mind—calm, detached, confident...

Just recalling that face sent a shiver down his spine.

He’d met some impressive snipers before, but from that man, he sensed that aura unique to the very best.

He might not be the enemy’s match...

Regret gnawed at him—why had he tried to save a little bit of genetic energy? If he’d used “Viper Fang” with his first shot, the enemy would already be a corpse!

But there was no medicine for regret. It was too late to change anything now.

Unwilling, he clenched his teeth and said, “As long as I get a shooting opportunity... I can do it.”

The situation had shifted. Their earlier panic meant they’d lost the chance to lock onto their target.

On the contrary, the enemy had likely pinpointed their position. With Li Tao’s fate as a warning, none of the three dared to challenge the enemy’s marksmanship. One misstep and they’d be next.

Li Yao exhaled softly, then turned to the grim-faced Zhou Yang. “What’s done is done. Whatever else, we’ll settle it after we deal with that man. It’s our turn to act... You circle east, I’ll go west. We’ll try to draw his fire and give Wang Cheng a chance to shoot.”

Zhou Yang’s expression hardened. After a moment, he exhaled and nodded.

After a brief discussion of details, the three began to move.

Li Yao and Zhou Yang departed, skirting the back of the hill to flank their foe.

Both were Bronze rank evolvers, favoring close combat. Whichever of them got close enough would have full confidence of finishing the enemy off.

Wang Cheng followed them down the hill as well.

The sniper’s nest was compromised—if he stayed and so much as showed his head, he’d be shot. He needed to find a new position.

Wang Cheng was wracked with regret—they’d been too arrogant earlier. Even knowing the enemy had located them via their scopes, they hadn’t been cautious enough, resulting in Li Tao’s death.

They would not make such a foolish mistake again.

Just one shot, but its effect forced all three to treat the enemy with the utmost seriousness.

...

Fang Mu watched the blaze erupting atop the distant hill, his bullet having claimed one of the snipers. He hoped his luck held—that he’d killed the more accurate one.

After firing, he didn’t linger. He chambered another round, ready to take another shot...

But unfortunately, his wounded right shoulder was still a serious hindrance. Although he quickly targeted the second sniper, his right hand trembled uncontrollably, and in the end, he didn’t fire.

He did not retreat behind the tiger carcass either. What little genetic energy he had left surged into his wound, stabilizing it and steadying his hand.

He kept his eyes locked on the hilltop. No one dared show themselves.

Were they scared?

So Fang Mu wondered.

He watched and, after a while, seeing no one emerge, he squatted down, drew his tactical knife, and drove it into the charred Gale Tiger. With a powerful slash, he hacked free a large chunk of bloody flesh.

He was running low on genetic energy and could almost feel the coming wave of hunger.

Recalling the first time he’d practiced this cultivation method and the terrible hunger that followed, he dared not delay.

There was still a battle to come—he couldn’t afford to lose his mind to hunger. Now was the time to secure a supply of Gale Tiger meat.

The Gale Tiger was a Bronze-rank beast; its flesh contained far more genetic energy than that of Black Iron rank creatures. It should be enough to satisfy his hunger.

He worked quickly. Fortunately, with the Gale Tiger already dead and its energy exhausted, the tactical knife, used with force, cut away a dozen or twenty pounds of bloody meat in no time.

He stowed it in his spatial gear, then turned and darted away, keeping low as he headed for the next hill.

He was certain his shot had rattled the enemy. If he didn’t seize the chance to retreat now, remaining in place would be sheer folly.

For a sniper, relocating immediately after being exposed was the most basic tactical discipline.