Chapter Thirty-Seven: Chang Le’s Mission

At a distance of two hundred meters, with Fang Mu’s marksmanship, there was no reason for him to miss. A mere movement of his finger could have blown out the brains of the man who had fired that sneaky shot at him, turning him into a corpse. Yet, after aiming for quite a while, Fang Mu finally exhaled softly, relaxing the tension in his finger.

He abandoned the idea that had seemed so tempting.

His gaze swept to the side, where three other snipers remained, watching the outside with unwavering focus alongside Chang Le.

Killing Chang Le would be easy, but the moment he pulled the trigger, his own position would be revealed. From his earlier observations, it was clear that none of these adversaries were simple. He might kill Chang Le in an instant, but the other three would react just as quickly.

Fang Mu’s eyes fell to the sides of their thighs, where a bulge could be faintly seen.

Those were pistols.

A pistol was a standard weapon for a professional gunfighter.

Because, for a gunfighter, it was their melee weapon.

Gunfighting wasn’t limited to sniper rifles alone—a pistol could serve just as well.

Especially at a mid-close range of two hundred meters, the pistol was far more practical than a sniper rifle. At such distances, raw power was no longer the only consideration—what mattered even more was speed.

Drawing speed, aiming speed, firing speed…

These were the most crucial factors.

And in this respect, a sniper rifle could never compare to a pistol.

Take the current situation as an example: if Fang Mu used a sniper rifle, he would need time to aim. The long barrel meant that any deviation could ruin the shot—any distortion in his aim, and the bullet would most likely go astray. Even if he hit, the immense recoil would leave his body momentarily rigid, forcing him to aim all over again for a second shot.

But if he had a pistol, everything would be different.

A pistol was an extension of the hand, its aiming motions inherently quicker and more convenient than a sniper rifle. The instant he raised his hand, he could be on target.

This agile style of aiming was especially vital at close and mid-range. Whether advancing or retreating, it was far more flexible.

Coupled with the deadly art of gunfighting...

A pistol became a terrifying weapon.

If he had a pistol now, he could have killed all four of them in a heartbeat with rapid fire.

But with a sniper rifle, he would be lucky to get off one shot before the others reacted. There would be no second chance to aim.

With that thought, Fang Mu let out a long sigh.

“It’s a pity pistols are even more expensive than sniper rifles. Otherwise, I’d have one too…”

He glanced enviously at the pistols strapped to the others’ thighs.

Small as they were compared to sniper rifles, pistols were by no means cheaper.

At the very least, a pistol had to be forged from Series D alloy, a genuine Series D firearm.

Series G and F pistols...

No one bothered to buy those.

What use were they? For those who didn’t know the art of gunfighting, a pistol was useless. The weapon alone couldn’t even kill a basic iron-rank creature. What was the point of buying one?

And those who did master gunfighting found Series G and F alloys far too fragile, good for only a few uses before they broke.

So, in the battlefield metropolis, only Series D or higher pistols were available for purchase.

And the price of a Series D firearm? Astronomical.

The cheapest Series D pistol cost hundreds of thousands, if not millions.

Completely unaffordable.

He smacked his lips, casting a longing gaze at the gunfighters ahead, his mind spinning.

If he could get his hands on one pistol, it would make the whole pursuit worthwhile.

“Let’s wait a bit longer. There should be an opportunity.”

Fang Mu decided to bide his time and watch the situation unfold.

…

…

Lying prone ahead, Chang Le had no idea he had already brushed past death’s door.

He looked composed, his eyes fixed on his target through the scope.

He recalled the order the captain had just given.

“If you get the chance, shoot without hesitation. The target this time is that female heavy-blade wielder… The commission is three hundred million, and whoever makes the kill gets a hundred million. There’s also a high-level cultivation gene seed as a reward. Don’t let the opportunity slip.”

The reward was undeniably tempting.

A hundred million star coins!

A high-level cultivation technique!

Either prize was enough to set hearts racing.

Though battlefield creatures seemed expensive—a single bronze-ranked beast might sell for hundreds of thousands, even a million…

But he wasn’t a lone hunter; he had a team. The spoils from a bronze creature had to be split four ways. Even with a million, his share would only be a couple of hundred thousand.

Silver creatures fetched more, but were far more dangerous to hunt. In the end, even with a multi-million payout, he would see just a few million at most.

A hundred million?

He would have to work a year or two for that.

And in the metropolis of the battlefield, money flowed out as quickly as it came in.

Gene meat, gene seeds, training chambers, gene serums—what didn’t cost money?

And to upgrade his gear?

All of it needed funds.

A hundred million would last him a long time, allowing him to upgrade his entire arsenal.

But the real prize was not the money, but that—

High-level cultivation technique!

Something money alone could not buy!

Such treasures were tightly controlled by the great families and aristocrats.

Even though it was only a gene seed, it was beyond the reach of ordinary people.

A cultivation method like that could greatly boost the absorption and potency of gene energy.

More importantly, it could raise the ceiling of evolution!

The technique Chang Le currently possessed, though not common, was capped at the silver rank. Advancing further was near impossible.

But if he obtained this high-level technique, he would have a chance to reach the gold rank!

That opportunity was priceless.

Now, merely by killing one person, he could have it all...

How could his heart not be moved?

Though—

The target was no ordinary being, but a gold-ranked lifeform.

He exhaled lightly, looking into the distance.

About five kilometers away, before a towering solitary peak, a great battle was raging.

Hundreds of evolvers, each wielding a heavy machine gun, were pouring fire in a sweeping arc, blanketing the area in a storm of bullets.