008 The Sharpshooter
Bang!
The sharp sound of the bolt being pulled echoed crisply in the night.
He looked like a man possessed.
Li Changjiang seemed to have been driven into a desperate, life-or-death situation.
“Could I really die here?”
Li Changjiang had never believed in fate, but now, despair crept in. Even if those outside were a herd of pigs, thirty-odd men against him alone was more than enough.
What’s more, he was just a greenhorn, fighting his first real battle. He had fired five shots in a row just now and only managed to hit one rebel—and it seemed he hadn’t even killed him, merely rendered him incapable of fighting.
“No, I can’t panic! Whatever happens, I must stay calm!”
At this most perilous moment, Li Changjiang muttered under his breath, his mind conjuring up the image of his father, Li Lin.
“I can’t die. For my father, for my mother, I must not die. Come on, you bastards, all of you!”
He took a deep breath.
He quickly swapped out his magazine, and this time, instead of using his sniper rifle, he switched to an assault rifle. He aimed, inhaled, and peered through the digital display. The scope automatically locked onto targets within effective range.
Bang!
He missed again.
But Li Changjiang had found the landing point of his shots.
Bang! Bang!
Bang!
Three shots in quick succession.
Through the scope on the display, he quickly saw three bursts of blood bloom in the darkness and felt a surge of elation.
A triple hit—three enemies down.
Not bad.
He steadied himself and aimed once more.
Bang.
Bang! Bang.
Two more shots missed.
Damn it—the rebels outside had been about to charge, but seeing three of their comrades cut down in an instant by someone hiding in the building, they hesitated and scrambled for cover.
This put Li Changjiang in a tough spot.
Though he could see the enemy’s positions clearly through the display, his effective shooting range was still only ten meters, and obstacles blocked his line of fire.
From this angle, unless the rebels moved, hitting them would be nearly impossible.
A stalemate quickly formed.
Li Changjiang dared not move recklessly, and neither did the rebels below.
While Li Changjiang watched patiently, something astonishing appeared in his scope.
Because he was near a second-floor window, and the building was at an oblique angle, he had a broad view—he could see the entire five-story building across the street, including the alleyway on the left.
Through the scope, he saw a silhouette emerge from a building behind the rebels.
With the scope’s clarity, Li Changjiang could make out the person’s complexion and features—it was a Chinese!
A Chinese, here.
Li Changjiang was stunned.
In his field of view, the Chinese man, moving at lightning speed, raised his rifle and fired a burst at the rebels in front of him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted.
Li Changjiang did not hesitate.
He tossed aside his rifle, grabbed the sniper rifle at hand.
Within six hundred meters—anything alive could be sniped.
He aimed rapidly.
Pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Bang! Bang!
A triple shot.
Three rebels, just poking their heads up at the sound of gunfire behind them, dropped instantly.
“Sniper!”
“Take cover! Take cover!”
“Hurry, there’s a sniper!”
A sniper?
“What? What did they say? Quick, someone translate for me.”
Inside the building.
Yang Jianyong froze for a moment.
“Captain, they said there’s a sniper!”
“Incredible—one shot, one kill. At least a marksman!”
“Calling One! Calling One!”
“This is One. Liangzi, what’s going on? Are you safe?”
“Safe. One, there’s an unidentified sniper taking out the rebels, possibly government forces. The rebels are all hiding five meters from the building’s front. The rear is clear—you can come out, but hurry!”
The voice on the radio belonged to Second Lieutenant Tian Weiliang, who had just sprinted out.
Yang Jianyong did not hesitate.
“Li Xiaomao, Teng Fei!”
“Here!”
“You two escort Director Hao. Yang Sheng, you’re with me. The rest, follow behind.”
With that, they slipped out through a gap in the rear door.
Bang!
No sooner had they emerged, the familiar crack of the sniper rifle rang out again.
Then another burst of three.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Nearly ten rebels were gunned down in succession, and terror gripped the rest.
But in his haste, Li Changjiang’s firing had unavoidably revealed his position.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Damn!”
“So you think highly of me, do you?”
Boom!
A fiery rocket tail streaked toward him, and a deafening explosion rocked his ears. Glancing back, Li Changjiang saw the window he’d been hiding behind obliterated by a rocket, reduced to rubble.
A hiss of pain escaped as his abdominal wound was jostled.
Bang!
Almost without aiming, he raised his weapon and fired.
He took out the shooter who hadn’t managed to duck in time, then ducked for cover himself.
Another burst of three.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
This time, only the first shot hit; the other two failed to do any damage. Even so, the uncanny accuracy left Yang Jianyong and several other Marine soldiers who had just charged out shocked.
A formidable marksman!
Rat-tat-tat.
Gunfire sounded again.
Sparks flew where the bullets struck. Tian Weiliang, after bursting out, opened fire. The rest of the rebels had their attention immediately drawn, but still, none dared show themselves.
Though they lacked skill, they weren’t fools—they sensed a sniper was in play, and no one was willing to poke their head out to be picked off one by one.
Behind him, once Yang Jianyong and the Chinese inside had rushed out, they immediately crouched behind a collapsed half-wall at the side entrance and began shooting from cover.
Bang.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunfire was fiercer than an August downpour.
Thud!
A dull sound—one of the Chinese men behind him dropped silently, dead before he hit the ground. There was no question: he had no hope of survival.
Yang Jianyong’s fighting spirit was instantly ignited.
“Li Xiaomao, ten o’clock to the left—machine gunner. Take him out.”
As he spoke, Sergeant Li Xiaomao took aim.
Whoosh!
Thud!
A 7.62mm pointed round sliced through the air with a shrill whistle. Li Xiaomao, just as he aimed, saw a spray of blood burst from the machine gunner’s throat.
What marksmanship.
Simply extraordinary!
Across from them, perched on the building’s ledge, Li Changjiang was like a phantom in the darkness—utterly silent except for his eyes.
Each squeeze of the trigger, each crack of gunfire, meant a rebel’s life snuffed out.
With the digital scope’s assistance, he could shoot nearly every enemy who dared expose themselves.
“Are these people pigs? Why aren’t they moving?”
Bang!
He shot another rebel who dared peek out.
Li Changjiang immediately shifted his gaze to eleven o’clock, seeing the group of Chinese lying motionless, his anger flared.
These people…
They really thought he was some invincible marksman. His rifle might save them once, but who could guarantee a second time? Only heaven knew how long the digital scope would work.
He swung his muzzle.
Whoosh!
Bang!
The bullet struck the ground less than a foot from Yang Jianyong’s left arm, gouging out a fist-sized crater. Yang Jianyong jumped in alarm.
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