Chapter 431 Perfect Cover!

Wild winds mixed with heavy rain.

It lashed down relentlessly onto the elevated platform within the Sanbianpo Scam Park.

Raindrops struck abandoned oil drums and moss-covered concrete slabs, splashing up layers of fine mist.

This was supposed to be a lurking outpost filled with killing intent and crisis.

But at this very moment.

In this cramped space on the platform.

The air seemed to stop flowing, falling into an eerily quiet state.

This silence was not the absence of sound in a physical sense.

Rather, it was because the eight battle-hardened Special Front soldiers had collectively fallen into a state of mental shutdown and speechlessness after witnessing that scene of common-sense-defying dimensional reduction strike.

Above that gray plastic pistol.

The holographic projection, which had been emitting a faint blue glow, flickered twice before dimming completely.

The light of high technology vanished.

Leaving only the dim environment of the rainy night.

The mechanical and flat voice prompt, "Extinguishing complete," had stopped.

But the shock brought by those two words continued to ferment in the wind and rain.

Because those words meant that everyone in the park had been taken out.

...

Old Wolf crouched in the puddles.

The captain of the Decapitation Squad, an iron-blooded tough guy who wouldn't even blink in the face of a hail of bullets on a normal day.

Right now.

The corners of his eyes twitched violently and uncontrollably.

His facial muscles were tensed to a very unnatural degree.

Rainwater slid down the edge of his tactical helmet, dripping into his eyes and bringing a sting of sourness.

But he didn't even have the instinctive reaction to reach out and rub them.

His chest heaved violently under his bulletproof tactical vest.

A dry, rasping sound came from his throat.

After holding it in for a long time.

He finally opened his mouth.

"This? They're all fucking extinguished just like that?"

A curse word was squeezed directly through his teeth.

His voice carried a clear tremble and extreme disbelief.

Deep in Old Wolf's heart, an indescribable storm was surging.

As the captain of this lightning strike.

Before the operation, he had etched the intelligence of the target area into his brain.

He knew better than anyone that the Scam Park beneath his feet was the largest and most heavily guarded devil's den in the entire Sanbianpo region.

It hid those ruthless ringleaders.

And it also had hundreds of armed thugs carrying assault rifles, and even equipped with machine guns and rocket launchers.

Add to that the sniper outposts distributed at high points and the peripheral hound patrols.

Altogether, this armed force was enough to withstand a frontal assault by a regular company.

Just a few minutes ago.

He was still lying on this water-logged concrete slab, using a twig to draw retreat routes on the ground.

He had even prepared for the worst-case scenario.

Where the entire squad might have to sacrifice more than half its members just to barely break through if they were exposed.

But reality had played a massive joke on him.

...

Old Wolf lowered his head.

He looked at the puddle of muddy water by his feet.

He frantically estimated the time in his mind.

Starting from when that kid Yan Poyue, drenched in sweat, pulled the trigger of that plastic toy gun.

Until that electronic voice just announced the end of the harvest.

Did the total time even add up to five minutes?

Or rather, were there even three minutes?

Old Wolf felt his sense of time had been completely disrupted.

He even suspected that saying it took three minutes was an overestimation!

One must know.

In that short span of time just now.

From the moment the holographic projection unfolded and the miniature projectiles scattered like a swarm of bees.

He and all the comrades around him.

Had been in a daze, their scalps tingling and their blood running cold.

Watching the red spots representing life on the screen being extinguished like harvested leeks.

That kind of pure physical-dimension erasure had stripped them of all perception of the outside world.

In that state, he had no concept of the passage of time whatsoever.

He only knew that hundreds of armed militants' lives had been nonchalantly ended in this heavy rain by a toy pistol used for "extinguishing fires."

...

What was this?

Could this even be called combat?

This was a one-sided slaughterhouse!

It wasn't just Old Wolf.

Beside him, Lynx, the burly demolitions expert, and the other assault team members.

All looked as if they had lost their souls.

Lynx's fingers were still tightly gripping the hilt of his polymer ceramic dagger.

Due to excessive force, the veins on the back of his hand bulged.

He swallowed hard and looked down at this carefully selected weapon for silent assassination.

Before crossing the border.

He had still felt this specialized dagger was a divine weapon for infiltration missions.

As long as he got close to the enemy, he could silently slit their throat.

But now.

After witnessing those flying, Automatic Target Homing miniature projectiles.

Lynx felt the dagger in his hand wasn't even as good as a scrap of iron used for peeling apples.

The air completely stagnated at this moment.

Leaving only the white noise of the storm hitting the abandoned scrap metal.

After a long while.

Having regained a shred of reason from that extreme shock.

Subconsciously.

Old Wolf turned his stiff neck.

The other members of the Decapitation Squad also seemed to have a telepathic connection.

They all turned their heads in unison.

Directing everyone's gaze toward that one spot.

Landing on Yan Poyue.

...

Yan Poyue, who was being stared at by everyone.

Was currently in a state worse than anyone else.

This top student from Tsinghua and Peking University, who always prided himself on high intelligence and was used to using logic and parameters to analyze the world.

Had his mouth wide open.

His jaw seemed dislocated, unable to close at all.

Behind his tactical goggles, in those eyes that usually shone with wisdom.

His pupils were trembling violently.

Yan Poyue's hand still maintained the posture of holding the gun.

Except.

That divine weapon that had just emitted a deep blue holographic glow and displayed a fire control system like a sci-fi blockbuster.

Had now returned to calm.

The indicator lights were out.

The levitation device had stopped operating.

It just sat quietly in his hand, its surface reflecting a dull, grayish luster.

From any angle.

It had turned back into that unremarkable piece of synthetic plastic.

Yan Poyue felt his worldview had completely collapsed.

...

Feeling the burning and complex gazes of everyone around him.

Especially Captain Old Wolf's gaze.

Yan Poyue managed to open his mouth.

A mountain breeze mixed with rain blew past, the chill instantly penetrating his soaked tactical uniform.

Under the extreme visual impact and physical crushing.

Yan Poyue's brain was now completely short-circuited.

His logical thinking had turned into a tangled mess.

Facing his teammates' silent inquiry.

He swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

With his brain short-circuited.

A sentence blurted out involuntarily:

"Cap... Captain, everyone in the park has been taken out. That counts as cover, right?"

...

As soon as these words came out.

The already stagnant air on the platform became even quieter.

One must know.

When the tactical layout was being made earlier, Yan Poyue's assigned position was the heavy gunner of this Decapitation Squad.

At that time.

When Old Wolf drew the retreat route in the mud.

He had clearly issued the mission directive.

Once their isolated squad exposed its tracks during the decapitation process.

And triggered a full-scale counterattack from the militants.

Yan Poyue was to stay at the very rear of the team, responsible for providing rear-guard cover.

This was a near-suicidal mission.

At the time, Yan Poyue had accepted this trust without hesitation.

But.

The development of reality had turned all tactical plans into waste paper.

Rear-guard?

Cover?

These conventional operations based on intense fire exchanges between both sides.

Had all lost their meaning now.

Because.

The enemies had all been taken out by this toy-like pistol within a few minutes!

Not a single breathing thug was left!

Deducing from the perspective of logic and battlefield survival rules.

As long as all hostile targets that could pose a threat to comrades were completely erased from the physical level.

Then.

The threat no longer existed.

Dead men don't fire guns.

Since there weren't even any enemies left to fire guns, the comrades could naturally walk out the front gate in broad daylight, completely unscathed.

So.

How could this not be the most ultimate, most perfect cover? Right?