190: Chapter 190 One Chance

Wang Laoliu was still behind the fallen log.

Losing his gun didn't mean he was useless.

A person like this, even empty-handed, was harder to deal with than those bodyguards on the beach.

Lin Fan knew very well that he currently had the upper hand, not because he could fight, but because Yang Ningcong's neck was expensive enough.

"Stand up," Lin Fan shouted toward the direction of the woods.

There was no movement behind the fallen log.

Lin Fan pressed the dagger inward a little bit.

Yang Ningcong shuddered all over and immediately screamed, "Laoliu! Stand up! Stand up! Do you fucking want to watch me die or what?"

Wang Laoliu's voice came from behind the fallen log.

"If I stand up, he will pick up the gun. Once he picks up the gun..."

"Bollocks!" Yang Ningcong was going crazy. "If he doesn't pick up the gun, are you expecting me to pick it up? Are you out of your mind?"

Lin Fan didn't rush him.

The blade pressed closely against Yang Ningcong's throat.

This was more effective than any words.

A few seconds later, two hands poked out from behind the fallen log.

Then half a body followed.

Wang Laoliu stood up from behind the fallen trunk.

He was wearing a dark tactical vest, his trouser legs were caked with muddy water, and there were several bloody scratches on his face from branches.

He wasn't very old, around thirty-five, with a lean figure and a very straight back and waist.

This kind of straightness wasn't something worked out in a gym.

It was a habit developed from long-term carrying of guns, heavy loads, and ambushes.

Lin Fan escorted Yang Ningcong and moved forward.

Yang Ningcong's two legs were bound, so he couldn't walk and could only be dragged forward halfway by Lin Fan.

With every inch he dragged himself along, the knife at his neck swayed along with it.

"Slowly, Master Lin, slowly."

Yang Ningcong's voice was fluttering.

"Don't let your hand slip, make sure your hand doesn't slip. The two of us are in the same boat now. If you slit my throat, it won't be easy for you to handle either."

Lin Fan ignored him.

Yang Ningcong added another sentence, "I'm not threatening you, I'm caring about you. Look at my position, how dangerous it is."

The Short-haired Bodyguard lay in the mud, listening until his back molars ached.

This was the first time in Yang Ningcong's life that he learned to care about someone else.

Dragging Yang Ningcong, Lin Fan first approached the handgun.

He used the tip of his foot to hook the gun toward himself, kicked it to an even closer position, and then had Yang Ningcong block in front while he squatted down and picked up the handgun.

The gun was very heavy.

Much heavier than it looked in the movies.

Held in his hand, the metal and muddy water stuck together, and the feel was uncomfortable.

Lin Fan had never played with a real gun.

During a company team-building event, he had been to a shooting range once, shooting small-caliber sport guns with a coach staring at him the whole time. After firing ten bullets, the most eye-catching number on the score sheet was a complete miss.

But no matter what, there was only one chance.

On this island, he would not allow someone as badass as Wang Laoliu to exist.

A gunman who could suppress him and keep him from lifting his head from three hundred meters away was a nail stuck in his back as long as he was still breathing.

He suddenly raised the gun.

Wang Laoliu was more than twenty meters away, standing very steadily.

Lin Fan pulled the trigger.

Bang.

The bullet struck the tree trunk to the left of Wang Laoliu, and wood chips splashed up.

Wang Laoliu reacted faster than the sound, shrinking back entirely and diving back behind the fallen log.

Lin Fan didn't stop.

Bang, bang, bang.

The muzzle shook violently.

The second shot hit the mud.

The third shot grazed past the top of the fallen log.

The fourth shot didn't know where it flew off to.

Wang Laoliu had already rolled behind the tree trunk, completely out of shooting angle.

Lin Fan cursed.

This gun was different from a crossbow.

With a crossbow, wherever you pointed was where it shot, and the recoil was acceptable.

When a handgun was fired, the muzzle jumped upward, his wrists went numb, and his eardrums hurt.

Those protagonists in the movies who pressed down the gun with one hand and killed someone with every shot were purely meant for the audience to daydream.

Touching a gun for the first time in reality, if you didn't shoot through your own foot, it would be considered your ancestors picking a lucky day.

The beach was completely in chaos.

Those few bodyguards all buried their heads deep in the mud.

The several women who had previously been washed under the boat boards by the waves also woke up.

They were female companions on Yang Ningcong's boat, their dresses had long been torn beyond recognition by the seawater, their makeup was smudged into a mess, and they had been cowering behind the wreckage just now not daring to make a sound.

Once the gun rang out, several of them completely broke down. If he couldn't kill that man, couldn't he kill defenseless women like them?

"Don't shoot!"

"Big Brother, help!"

"We just came here to play, I don't know anything!"

"We were just greedy for Young Master Yang's money, we don't want to die..."

Lin Fan didn't look at them.

He lowered the muzzle of the handgun and didn't fire blindly anymore.

How many rounds were left in the magazine, he wasn't sure.

He had impulsively fired four shots just now, and not a single one hit.

This was reality.

Having a gun didn't make you a God of War.

Wang Laoliu hid behind the fallen log. As long as Lin Fan chased forward, the opponent had a hundred ways to pin him to death at the edge of the woods.

Lin Fan pulled Yang Ningcong back a step and put the knife back onto his neck.

Yang Ningcong had completely turned soft like a limp noodle.

Those few shots just now exploded right by his ears, ringing his head with buzzes.

"Brother Lin, can you notify me before you shoot?"

He said with a crying tone, "My heart is bad, really. My family's private doctor said I cannot take stimulation."

Lin Fan looked down at him.

"When you told him to shoot me to death just now, your heart was quite good."

Yang Ningcong opened his mouth.

"That was a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

"I was tied up at the time, my emotions were unstable, and I spoke without thinking. Don't bicker with a patient."

Lin Fan kicked the sniper rifle on the ground, kicking the gun to his own feet.

This thing was even heavier than the handgun.

The gun body was long, with a scope, and the magazine was still attached.

He bent down to pick it up, and his first reaction wasn't excitement, but trouble.

He knew how to use this gadget even less.

A sniper rifle wasn't something you could just pick up, aim, and shoot.

Adjusting the scope, breathing, distance, trajectory, wind deflection, the action of pulling the trigger—if any link was wrong, the bullet would veer off course.

Wang Laoliu could use it to back him into a dead end because that guy made a living out of this.

Held by Lin Fan, it could only be used as a noisy iron rod.

Still, having one was better than having none.

He tucked the handgun into his waist and slung the sniper rifle over his back.

The gun strap dug into his shoulder, and as the weight pressed down, Lin Fan's entire person became a bit more clumsy.

He glanced at the people on the beach.

Three bodyguards.

Several women.

A Young Master Yang who had wet his pants.

And Wang Laoliu behind the fallen log who would look for a chance to counterattack at any moment.

Kill them all?

Using guns wasn't enough.

He had already wasted a few rounds just now, and he didn't count how many were left in the magazine.

Even if it was one bullet per person, it would still take a lot of ammunition.

Besides, bullets were precious.

Use a knife?

That was even more foolish.

As long as he left Yang Ningcong, Wang Laoliu could charge out. A thirty-meter distance was a sprint for an ordinary person, but a tactical start for that kind of person.

Lin Fan couldn't outrun him and couldn't beat him.

He knew his own weight very well.

What he relied on to survive until now was never a rush of hot-headed blood.

It was calculating accounts.

Now this account was very simple.

First get Yang Ningcong up.

As long as this Young Master Yang was still in his hands, Wang Laoliu wouldn't dare to act rashly.

Yang Ningcong was a protective talisman and also a ticket.

As for these people on the beach, after he took the high ground, he would deal with them slowly.