Watching the place where the rocket had risen, and hearing the burst of rifle fire that followed, Xu Ze let out a silent sigh, a trace of sorrow flashing through his heart. Bai Qi’s group had two rocket launchers, but only one round had been fired—it seemed things weren’t going well over there…
But he didn’t dare hesitate any longer. Bai Qi’s people were buying time with their lives right now. If he let that fighter jet make another run, who knew how many of the eight would be left standing?
Xu Ze raised his rifle, aimed at the jet that was about to dive toward Bai Qi and the others, and didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger again and again.
The F-16’s fuselage shuddered slightly under Xu Ze’s gunfire, which left him a little disappointed. No matter how powerful a rifle was, it was still just a rifle—not a missile or an autocannon. If he had a cannon in his hands, maybe he could actually do some real damage…
The F-16 pilot, watching the little ant half-hidden in the woods below his left side, was thoroughly annoyed. His aircraft had taken several hits just now, but fortunately none had struck anything vital—unlike his poor wingman’s luck.
A flash of rage crossed his face. He rolled the plane smoothly in midair, turned the nose around, and dove straight for Xu Ze, determined to tear that little bastard to shreds and avenge his comrade.
By this point, Xu Ze had thrown caution to the wind. Watching the jet barrel toward him, he stood his ground in the open like some kind of badass, rifle braced against his shoulder, eyes locked on the incoming fighter—looking every bit like he was ready to go down fighting.
The pilot saw that kid standing there, frozen like a statue with his rifle, acting as if he were some kind of god, and he almost did a double-take. After a moment, he snapped out of it. Who did this guy think he was? Iron Man? Not afraid of rockets or autocannons?
And he was holding a Barrett without even a scope—no scope, what could he possibly hit? At that thought, a cruel grin spread across the pilot’s face. “You’re handing yourself to me on a silver platter…”
He gently pushed the control stick and dove toward Xu Ze below. Once the target was locked, he sneered and moved his finger to the cannon trigger.
But then, just as he was about to fire, he noticed the kid in his targeting screen flash an odd smile. The pilot froze for a second, his finger hovering over the button.
Suddenly, he heard a faint clink against the glass canopy in front of him—and then he never heard another sound again.
His hand, carried by the sheer momentum, jerked the control stick. A single cannon round fired off, and then the jet lurched upward violently, its dive turning into a steep climb…
Not far away, General Zuma and his people were hiding in a patch of tall grass, trembling at the sounds of gunfire and explosions outside. But then, through gaps in the leaves, they saw that fighter jet wobbling erratically in the sky, spinning in circles, before it suddenly pitched over and plunged into the distance.
A moment later, a massive explosion echoed from afar, and everyone let out a cheer of relief.
Bai Qi struggled to help a wounded soldier to his feet. When he heard that explosion, a smile of relief finally broke across his face. Xu Ze really was something else—more capable than he’d imagined. At least their desperate cover fire hadn’t been in vain.
Everyone was beaming with joy—except for Xu Ze, who was lying on the ground in agony, clutching his chest and groaning.
Right after he’d fired that shot, the jet had managed to loose a cannon round that hit him square in the chest. The shield had flared up just in time and deflected it, but the impact still sent him flying backward.
He wasn’t spitting blood, but his chest was so sore he couldn’t even touch it. Xu Ze figured that if the force had been even a little stronger—just a fraction—his ribs, which were several times tougher than a normal person’s, might very well have cracked.
He was still lying there moaning when Xiao Dao’s voice came through, grave and urgent: “Xu… stop groaning and get up. There’s movement over there.”
At Xiao Dao’s warning, Xu Ze’s heart jolted. Ignoring the dull ache in his chest, he scrambled to his feet, moved nimbly over to a large rock, and peered toward General Zuma’s position.
Following Xiao Dao’s directions, he quickly spotted Zuma and his people—and also those faint red figures.
Xiao Dao rapidly marked one of the figures in his field of view. “This guy named Baku—ever since that jet went down, his heart rate has been spiking, and his metabolism is accelerating. I’ve monitored him touching the pistol at his waist several times now.”
“Nobody else is showing anything unusual. If there’s a mole, it’s him. And right now, there are only a few people around—this is his last chance to act. If he’s the one, he should make his move any second now.”
“Oh… good.” With the traitor identified, Xu Ze finally felt a weight lift. Having a hidden thorn like that in the group had been eating at him.
“He’s moving now…” As Xiao Dao spoke, Xu Ze saw the black man named Baku step over to a spot where no one was paying attention—a position that offered a good escape route and also gave him a perfect angle on General Zuma.
Watching Baku’s movements, Xu Ze smiled. Ignoring the dull throbbing in his chest, he raised his rifle and rested his finger on the trigger.
Sure, using an anti-materiel sniper rifle against personnel was against international law, and armor-piercing incendiary rounds were especially brutal—but he’d already taken down so many people today. One more wouldn’t make a difference.
He saw the faint red figure reach for the pistol at his waist and draw it in a flash. Xu Ze raised an eyebrow, gently squeezed the trigger—and watched that red silhouette burst apart in an instant.
A moment later, a scream rang out from that direction—it was Madame Zuma’s voice.
“That woman really can’t handle a scare…” Xu Ze sighed and shook his head.
Hearing his teasing tone, Xiao Dao curled his lip in the virtual space and shot back: “Not everyone’s like you—used to dissecting cadavers back in med school. You’ve never actually seen what an armor-piercing round does to a person. If you had, I doubt you’d be cracking jokes.”
“Alright, alright… enough of that.” Xu Ze shook his head and sighed. “Anyway, that’s taken care of. I just hope Bai Qi and the others are okay.”
“It’s not as bad as you think. They’re experienced and spread out well. Of the four rockets, only two soldiers are seriously wounded, one lightly. The rest are fine.” Xiao Dao’s tone was admiring. “But if that Maverick had gone for them… at least two would’ve died.”
“Good… that’s good.” Hearing that no one had died, Xu Ze let out a breath of relief. He quickly packed up his rifle and ran over to Bai Qi. Two soldiers were seriously injured—he needed to tend to them fast, or they might bleed out before help arrived.
When Bai Qi saw Xu Ze approaching, he gave him a thumbs up, admiration clear in his eyes. “Colonel… you’re incredible. When we get back, I’m going to request that you be brought in as a sniper instructor.”
“Stop flattering me. It was luck.” Xu Ze smiled bitterly and shook his head. Taking down two F-16s with just a Barrett and a bit of luck—without the super system’s help, even with the best luck in the world, it wouldn’t have been that easy.
He walked over to the two soldiers lying on the ground and asked grimly, “How are they?”
“Not great…” Bai Qi shook his head, his expression darkening. He looked at Xu Ze with hopeful eyes. “This one took a hit to the abdomen—there might be shrapnel inside. I’ve already called for Medic Zhao. Colonel, could you take a look?”
Xu Ze frowned at that, then turned to look at the other soldier. “And this one?”
“Shrapnel in his thigh. Might have damaged the bone too.” Bai Qi glanced at the other soldier lying nearby and sighed.
Xu Ze nodded, crouched down, and gently lifted the gauze pressed against the first soldier’s abdomen. The wound was about three centimeters across. He quickly activated the X-ray function.
Under the fluoroscopy, sure enough—he could clearly see a piece of shrapnel the size of an egg, lodged in the posterior abdominal wall.
Just then, Zhao Jun came running up, panting, medical kit strapped to his back. Seeing Xu Ze already examining the wounded man, he hurriedly asked, “Colonel, what’s the situation?”
“We need to open him up as soon as possible. There’s shrapnel inside—if we don’t get it out fast, he’ll go into shock from slow internal bleeding.” Xu Ze glanced at the soldier, whose face was already growing pale, and said firmly to Zhao Jun, “Get ready. We’re starting immediately.”
“Open him up?” Zhao Jun was taken aback. “Colonel… we can’t do surgery here. We don’t have the instruments, no blood for transfusion, no proper anesthetics—there’s no way we have the conditions for this.”
“We have to do it now. In another twenty minutes at most, he’ll be in shock.” Xu Ze frowned hard and said decisively, “I’ll perform the surgery. You start prepping for disinfection.”
Hearing that, Zhao Jun hesitated for a moment, but still quickly answered and began making preparations. He thought the surgery was impossible under these conditions—but his trust in Xu Ze carried a strange, inexplicable confidence.
