Chapter Twenty-One: The Third Assassination Attempt

Zhou Yang had no idea that, behind him, a sniper rifle was already trained on him with unwavering precision.

“The barrel is slightly warped. The curve isn’t obvious, but it’s enough to severely affect accuracy…”

A sniper rifle is an extremely precise long-range weapon; even the faintest imperfection in the rifling can throw a bullet off course. After several rounds of ‘Blazing Fire,’ the barrel had endured temperatures its material was never meant to handle, resulting in a subtle twist.

Such a degree of warping was almost imperceptible. If Fang Mu hadn’t become intimately familiar with this rifle, he might never have noticed it. But that slight deviation was there, and it would show.

Now, Fang Mu’s breathing gradually steadied. A sequence of shooting parameters flashed through his mind. If the barrel were still true, he’d have a hundred percent confidence in blasting off the bald man’s head with this shot.

But now, that tiny bit of distortion robbed him of certainty.

He scrutinized the curve of the barrel, pressed his lips together, and made minute adjustments to his aim.

With this level of deformation, the bullet would certainly still fire.

But if he used ‘Blazing Fire’ now, this would be his only shot—afterward, the rifle would be utterly spent. If he failed to take down his target, he would be nothing more than a toothless tiger, left with only one option: retreat.

“In truth, there’s no other option now. Even if I don’t take this shot, I’ll still have to leave. But if I can kill him, maybe I’ll intimidate the other one. Then, he wouldn’t dare to act rashly or expose himself. That would give me a chance to reach the mountain and seize the other sniper’s rifle…”

Fang Mu’s eyes sharpened. He knew there was no alternative left for him.

Either slink away in defeat, or… take this chance, and perhaps not just claim another sniper rifle, but also retrieve the Gale Tiger’s carcass. Otherwise, this entire campaign would be a total loss—no tiger meat, and the only asset in his hands would be lost here. That was something he couldn’t accept.

So…

At this thought, Fang Mu let out a long breath, his gaze turning icy cold as he fixed the bald man in his crosshairs.

All of this was the fault of those bastards!

So, no matter what, he had to try.

Even if he couldn’t get the rifle, at least he’d inflict some revenge—vent his anger.

Once more, he adjusted his aim. When his sights were perfectly aligned, Fang Mu slowed his breathing and gently squeezed the trigger…

Boom!!!

The rifle roared. The barrel, already warped, glowed red-hot and twisted visibly, its condition now irreparably destroyed. One more shot and it would explode.

Fang Mu ignored the ruined barrel, his eyes locked on the distant bald man.

Please let it hit!

He prayed silently…

…

…

“It looks like that guy’s already left. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let the Gale Tiger’s body lie there for so long…”

Zhou Yang lay prone atop a hillock, watching the carcass below, licking his lips. He was convinced the enemy had departed—after all, why else would he neither claim the spoils nor deal with the tiger’s body? If he wasn’t gone, what else could explain it?

After all, they were waiting for reinforcements here. The enemy? There was no way he could know Zhou Yang and his team hadn’t left yet.

“Brother Yao, I think that guy most likely…”

After thinking for a while, Zhou Yang couldn’t help but speak up.

But before he could finish, a sudden numbness shot through his lower body—a tremendous impact slammed into him. An instant later, a wave of searing fire erupted, choking his words in his throat.

“Aaaah!!!”

A piercing scream burst from him as the savage flames engulfed him in a heartbeat.

He’d been shot! The enemy hadn’t left!

And he’d been targeted!

Boom!!!

He heard a thunderous explosion, and Li Yao’s anxious voice crackled through his earpiece, “Zhou Yang, what happened—”

The voice was cut off as the flames instantly incinerated the earpiece!

Howling in agony, Zhou Yang rolled on the ground, enveloped in the inferno. The bullet hadn’t struck his head, but rather his backside.

A surge of genetic primal energy erupted within him.

“Iron Body!!”

He shouted, and a dusky radiance enveloped his whole form, making him as hard as iron.

It was one of the close-combat ‘Genetic Combat Techniques’—‘Iron Body’! A skill that greatly increased the body’s toughness.

But the heat of ‘Blazing Fire’ was too intense. Burning flesh and bone—a pain no ordinary person could endure.

He barely managed to activate ‘Iron Body’ before he began to roll frantically, trying to smother the flames.

But he was already atop the hill, hiding behind a boulder to keep out of sight. Now, as he rolled, he tumbled down the slope.

“Ahhh!!!”

His bloodcurdling scream echoed as he disappeared down the hillside—his fate uncertain.

Through the scope, Fang Mu witnessed it all. When he saw the fire erupt, he knew his shot had landed.

He watched his foe tumble down the hill and finally let out a breath.

His shot’s accuracy had suffered greatly—he’d been aiming for the bald man’s head.

Had the bullet struck there, the outcome would have been the same as the first sniper: instant death.

But alas, this shot only hit the man’s body—not fatal.

He was disappointed.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Fang Mu quickly swung his rifle toward the spot where the first sniper’s corpse lay—another enemy had been lurking there.

But now, that figure was gone!

Had he retreated? Or had he been startled and come down to investigate?

Fang Mu wasn’t sure.

But then he clenched his jaw.

“More likely he’s hiding. He doesn’t know my rifle is useless now, so he won’t dare show himself!”

With that, Fang Mu wasted no time. He turned and dashed madly down the mountain.

He had to act fast.

Who knew whether the bald youth would survive… but at the very least, that wound would put him out of commission for a while.

As for the other enemy, he was likely rattled and now in hiding, searching for Fang Mu’s position.

This was the perfect moment to rush to the second sniper’s corpse and claim the spoils!

If he missed this window, by the time the first man recovered, he’d lose his chance forever—without a rifle, he was as harmless as a kitten.

As for the danger…

Of course there was danger! What battlefield isn’t fraught with peril? If there’s no danger, it’s not a battlefield.

It’s just a matter of whether the risk is worth it.

A sniper rifle of unknown grade—but it would be his only remaining weapon.

In these circumstances… a little risk was more than worth it!