27: Chapter 27: What kind of insane marksmanship is this?!

Snap—

Long Bao snapped a dry branch and crouched low in the bushes.

His camouflage uniform was drenched in dew, and his breathing was as steady as a frozen lake.

As the Captain of Divine Sword, he currently had no idea that Zhao Wuji had already been eliminated—

Because they hadn't met up, their communication equipment couldn't find each other's channels at all. Furthermore, some of the airdropped gear didn't even include communication devices.

So, right now, everyone was a lone wolf.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the misty morning forest.

A faint gunshot echoed from the distance, causing Chen Feng's pupils to contract slightly.

"Northeast... about eight hundred meters away," he whispered to himself. "Could it be Su Han?"

...

Over with the Wild Wolf Assault Team.

"One-Eye" lay flat on the damp moss, his cheek pressed against the cold barrel of his rifle.

Ten minutes ago, he had heard intense gunfire coming from the river valley, but the jungle blocked his line of sight.

"At least three people are fighting..." He licked his chapped lips. "Su Han should be there."

He hesitated for a moment before ultimately choosing to crawl in the opposite direction.

As the ace sniper of Wild Wolf, he knew better than anyone—looking for Su Han now was equivalent to seeking death.

...

Over with the Desert Wolf Special Forces Brigade.

Two Desert Wolf members moved through the forest like ghosts. The tall one's code name was "Sandstorm," and the short, stocky one was "Gravel." They had just regrouped—this was a pre-arranged signal, involving carving a mark on a giant rock by the stream.

"There's movement to the southeast."

Sandstorm lowered his voice and pointed toward a ridge. "Look at that tree canopy; there's a reflection."

Gravel squinted. "It's not one of ours. Should we sneak over and take a look?"

Sandstorm shook his head. "Find equipment first. We only have pistols; if we run into a rifle, we're finished."

...

On the electronic screen in the observation center, the leaderboard slowly refreshed:

Divine Sword Special Forces Brigade: 3 points

Snow Leopard Special Forces: 2 points

Wild Wolf Assault Team: 2 points

Falcon Special Forces Brigade: 2 points (all from Su Han)

...

"The rest of Falcon are all hiding," the Captain of Snow Leopard sneered. "Aside from Su Han, your people don't even dare to show their faces."

Wang Yuanchao stared at the screen without offering a rebuttal.

It was true; the markers for the other Falcon members were stationary at their hiding spots. Only Su Han's red dot was constantly moving across the high ground.

"What's the rush?" Long Zhan of the Marine Corps suddenly spoke up. "Su Han alone has taken points from both your teams."

As he spoke, the screen suddenly zoomed in on the Sector 11 feed—Su Han was climbing a steep rock wall!

On the cliff face, Su Han's fingers dug into the rock crevices, and the tips of his boots crushed several loose stones.

Below him was a hundred-meter drop; falling would mean certain death.

But he didn't hesitate for a second. Like a true Shan Ying, he reached the platform in a few bounds.

Phew—

The mountain wind howled, dispersing the morning mist. Su Han knelt on one knee and slowly scanned his surroundings—

To the east: the river valley meandered like a silver snake, sunlight shattering into ten thousand diamonds on the water's surface;

To the west: the dense forest was like dark green waves, the canopy rising and falling with the wind;

To the north: the exposed grey-white mountain ridge looked like the spine of a giant dragon stretching into the distance.

This was the high ground at the intersection of Sector 11, Sector 8, and Sector 6.

Su Han unslung his Type 88 sniper. The moment the stock hit his shoulder, his entire aura instantly became tranquil.

He became a part of the rock, his very breathing merging with the mountain wind.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Shasha—

The sound of dead leaves being crushed by combat boots was clearly audible in the silent forest.

Lynx's back was pressed tight against the damp rock wall. His left hand gripped a sharp piece of stone, while his right hand slowly reached for the Type 92 pistol at his waist—he only had seven rounds, and there were at least two enemies.

Thirty meters away, a figure flashed by.

The Desert Wolf patch on the camouflage uniform flickered through the shadows of the trees.

Sandstorm.

Falcon veteran Lynx instantly recognized this tough character he had faced in last year's exercise.

The opponent held a type 95 rifle, the muzzle moving steadily with his steps, like a Viper ready to strike.

Snap.

Ten meters to the left, another footstep snapped a dry branch.

Gravel was flanking him. In his hands, he held... a suppressed QBZ-191!

Lynx's Adam's apple bobbed. It was over.

A pistol against rifles, and two-on-one at that.

Just then...

Bang!

A gunshot exploded from far away!

953 meters away, atop the rock wall.

Su Han's index finger was frozen on the trigger like a block of ice.

Morning mist drifted in front of the sniper scope, making his field of vision look as if it were behind a flowing veil.

In the center of the 9x scope's crosshairs, Sandstorm's figure was fragmented into pieces by countless leaves and branches.

Ballistic calculation data flashed through his mind like lightning:

Wind speed: 3.2m/s (Southeasterly)

Humidity: 63%

Temperature: 17°C

Elevation difference: +11 meters

Bullet drop: At this distance, the 5.8mm round will drop approximately 4.2 meters.

Su Han's pupils contracted to their limit.

He slightly raised the muzzle, letting the aiming point hang about six mils above Sandstorm's head—right where a single leaf was illuminated by the sun.

Breathe. Hold. The gap between heartbeats.

Bang!

The stock of the Type 88 sniper slammed hard into his shoulder as the casing ejected in a brass arc.

The bullet spiraled through the damp air, and during its 0.87-second flight time—

It pierced through three birch leaves,

Brazed a horizontal pine branch,

Passed through two drifting bands of morning mist,

And finally slammed into Sandstorm's tactical vest just below the third row of webbing on his right side!

Sandstorm felt as if a red-hot iron rod had been driven through his right ribs.

He stumbled and looked down, seeing white smoke billowing from the bullet hole.

"Im... possible..."

His pupils trembled violently.

The sound of the shot took over a second to reach here; that was at least 900 meters!

In a forest environment! With a Type 88 sniper?!

Is this the kind of marksmanship a human can pull off?!

Gravel's reaction was lightning-fast. He performed a side roll behind a rock while blindly firing three rounds in the direction of the shot.

Puff, puff, puff! The suppressed QBZ-191 only made faint thuds.

But the second sniper round was already shrieking toward him!

This shot was nothing short of a miracle—it first pierced a cluster of maple leaves, shattered half a falling yellow leaf, and then accurately struck Gravel's right knee just as he raised it!

Because it hit the knee.

The lower body had to be hit at least twice to be judged as killed in action.

So, right now, Gravel had not yet been eliminated!

"Who's helping me?"

"At this distance, it must be Su Han!"

Lynx was overjoyed.

Lynx didn't waste this fatal opportunity.

He lunged out like a leopard, picked up the type 95 rifle dropped by Sandstorm, and completely eliminated Gravel with a three-round burst.

The air in the observation center froze.

The technician tremblingly pulled up the ballistic simulation—the red dotted line representing the bullet drew an incredible curve on the 3D map, bypassing seven obstacles before finally hitting the target.

"This..." The Captain of Desert Wolf's coffee cup smashed onto the floor. "How was this calculated?!"

He had once been a sniper himself, and he knew better than anyone the difficulty of this shot—it required incorporating every swaying leaf and every shifting gust of wind in the forest into the calculation!

"953 meters, Type 88 sniper, forest environment," Long Zhan's voice was as dry as sandpaper. "My god! This kid is going against the heavens!"

The Chief Referee suddenly grabbed the microphone. "Technical team! Immediately check Su Han's sniper scope for illegal modifications!"

Five minutes later, the technical lead reported while wiping away sweat, "Reporting, after inspection... it's just a standard optical scope."

"..."

The gunshot echoed through the valley three times before finally fading away.

Wild Wolf's "One-Eye" bolted from his hiding spot as if bitten by a venomous snake.

He frantically adjusted his binocular's focus. When he saw the figure holding the rifle on the mountain peak, cold sweat instantly drenched his back.

"Hell... it really is him..." Shivering, he tore up the tripwire mine he was about to set and began crawling in the opposite direction—like a startled marmot.

Snow Leopard's "Venom Fang" was currently drawing water by the stream.

The moment he heard the gunshot, his entire body froze into a statue, not even noticing as his canteen was swept away by the current.

After a long while, he slowly removed the Snow Leopard insignia from his armband and gently placed it on the bank—this was the tradition for Snow Leopard Special Forces Soldiers when admitting defeat.

Divine Sword's Chen Feng stood behind a Korean pine, staring fixedly at the mountain peak.

His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the grenade at his waist, but he never pulled the safety pin.

"Su Han..." he murmured, feeling a chill run up his spine for the first time on a battlefield.

Su Han slowly ejected the casing.

The brass casing clinked against the rock and rolled to his feet—where another identical casing already lay.

He suddenly turned his head, his sniper scope sweeping across a patch of bushes 800 meters to the southeast.

There, the Snow Leopard spotter "Night Owl" lay stiffly under a camouflage net.

"I see you," Su Han mouthed silently, but he didn't pull the trigger.

Sometimes, leaving a witness to spread the word... was more of a deterrent than total annihilation.

Besides, if he fired now, the remaining spectators would only run away.

If he didn't fire...

They might just try to sneak closer...

That way, wouldn't the prey... come to him?

The mountain wind swept past his sniper barrel, carrying away the last wisp of gunpowder smoke.

The entire forest fell into an eerie silence, as if even the birds were holding their breath.

...

There will be two more chapters around midnight.