Chapter Forty-Seven: Kill!

“Made it…”

Fang Mu exhaled a breath as he pressed himself against the icy, snow-covered ground.

He was lying in a depression, and from this concealed position, the figures perched atop the glacier crevasse couldn’t see him. That girl was lucky—when he arrived, there had been no gunshots from the crevasse, which meant the enemy was still waiting for their chance to fire.

Steadying his nerves, Fang Mu exhaled again, rolled to his side, and retrieved the D-785 from his spatial arsenal. He shouldered it and aimed toward the glacier’s fissure.

Though the crevasse was halfway up the mountain, his distance was sufficient; the lower ground still allowed for a clear shooting angle.

Through the scope, the three gunfighters came into sharp focus.

As he had expected, each crouched low, rifles at the ready, eyes locked on the distant battlefield with unwavering concentration.

No one noticed him.

Fang Mu relaxed a little—good news, since it meant he could take his time.

Still, he dared not be careless.

Though the trio seemed wholly absorbed in the fight ahead, a Bronze-level evolver’s reflexes were anything but ordinary. The instant someone was hit, they’d sense it and pinpoint his position almost immediately—a kind of sixth sense possessed by skilled snipers.

He had to seize this chance and make it count. There could be no half measures.

Fang Mu drew a deep breath, rehearsing the plan he’d mapped out moments ago—he was confident there would be no mistakes.

Elements of marksmanship surfaced naturally and swiftly in his mind. He adjusted his aim, his gaze turning sharp.

And then—

Boom!

The thunderous gunshot shattered the silence the instant his finger squeezed the trigger.

…

The instant he fired, Fang Mu heard the gunshot— but those at the glacier crevasse would not hear it immediately.

At a range of over eight hundred meters, it would be at least two seconds before the sound reached them.

The three gunfighters watched the battlefield intently, ready to deliver a fatal blow should the enemy begin to flee.

They had no idea death had already arrived, silent and unseen.

From their vantage, the clash below was still deadlocked.

Though Greed Wolf’s preparations were thorough this time—more than sixty Silver evolvers had come—the Palace’s forces were even greater.

To slay the golden beast, they’d brought over a thousand men! Many had fallen when the second golden beast descended last time, but hundreds still remained.

Most were Bronze, even Iron, yet there was no shortage of Silver-level fighters.

After being caught off guard and suffering heavy losses, the survivors had managed to mount a strong counterattack. Several of Greed Wolf’s Silvers had already perished.

Most remarkable were the three Golden evolvers—their strength was extraordinary. Even with four Golds on Greed Wolf’s side, they couldn’t easily overwhelm them.

“No wonder anyone targeted by a patron like this is no ordinary prey… Even beset by Vice Captain Zhou and Vice Captain Yang, that woman with the heavy blade is only barely at a disadvantage,” one gunfighter remarked in awe.

The strength and degree of evolution of an evolver were paramount—but there was something else that could turn the tide: genetic combat techniques.

A rare and powerful genetic art might not allow someone to defeat those above their rank, but it could certainly crush those at the same level.

That heavy-bladed woman clearly possessed a terrifying technique.

Especially the cultivation method she practiced—surely it was extraordinary. To have fought the golden beast for so long, expending so much genetic energy, and still face two Golds without showing defeat—her reserves must be fathomless.

“But it’s just a matter of time. She’s exhausted, and Zhou and Yang aren’t even going all out. Sooner or later, she’ll show signs of failing,” another gunfighter said coolly.

Though the Palace fighters were still mounting a desperate defense, he could see their Golds were near the brink.

They clung on only to protect their comrades. When pushed to the limit, they’d abandon the others and flee.

And that would be the moment for the gunfighters to seize glory.

At the thought, all three gunfighters’ eyes gleamed.

At that very instant—

Crack!

Suddenly, the one in the middle felt a violent force pierce his right chest. Before he could react, a burst of flame engulfed his body.

“Ah!”

The searing pain wrung a scream from him.

Then, from far away, the thunder of a gunshot reached their ears.

“Zhao Fei?!”

“Fire!”

Shen Tian’s expression changed drastically. He reacted almost by instinct, wrenching his rifle to the side. In a heartbeat, he’d already pinpointed the shooter.

Through his scope, he saw a figure lying prone beyond an icy slope, eight hundred meters out—the cold muzzle pointed directly at them.

It was that gunfighter! He hadn’t left?

Fury surged in Shen Tian. He completed his aim in an instant and was about to pull the trigger.

He was Greed Wolf’s ace sniper. He had absolute confidence that this shot would blast the target’s head apart.

But just as his finger touched the trigger, a jolt ran through him—he remembered.

No! The chamber was loaded with a gene round—each one worth sixty million!

It had been given by the patron, meant for killing the woman with the heavy blade.

Now he was about to waste it on a mere Iron-level gunfighter?

He hesitated, if only for a fraction of a second.

But that split instant was enough. Through the scope, he saw a flash of fire leap from the barrel—another shot!

A second shot?!

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Shen Tian’s moment of doubt vanished, replaced by cold fear.

The other man was out for his life—what did a gene round matter now?

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger—

But at that moment—

“Ah!”

A cry of agony. Shen Tian felt his body slammed by a fierce force, heat searing his side. His aim faltered, scope swinging wild, and he lost his target.

“Damn!”

Terror seized him. He couldn’t tell who the second shot had targeted, but he knew he’d lost his chance to kill the enemy. Instinct took over—he rolled aside, desperate to escape.

He had barely moved when another sharp crack split the air. Then, with a boom, another burst of fire flared.

Shen Tian whipped around in horror. The second gunfighter, still in a kneeling position, had his head snapped back by a tremendous impact—a thumb-sized hole gaping in his brow, blood spurting as flames engulfed him.

In an instant, Shen Tian understood.

The first shot had struck Zhao Fei’s right chest—a non-lethal wound for a Bronze evolver.

But killing was never the point.

The true aim was to cripple Zhao Fei—because the agony and burning would force him to writhe uncontrollably.

And in that chaos, as Shen Tian and the other tried to aim, Zhao Fei’s thrashing would disrupt them.

Thus, the shooter could fire a second, clean shot.

“Damn him!”

Shen Tian’s eyes burned red. It was a trap—every move anticipated. In a flash, one was gravely wounded, another slain.

Regret flooded him. Why had he hesitated, even for a heartbeat? Without that hesitation, the enemy would never have gotten off a second shot!

Thud!

The gunfighter shot through the head collapsed, flames devouring his corpse.

Zhao Fei, meanwhile, rolled frantically on the ground, shrieking in pain. Too near the cliff, he tumbled over the edge, his screams fading into silence below.

Shen Tian felt ice in his veins as he shrank deeper into the glacier’s fissure, his eyes bloodshot.

“Damn bastard!”

He roared in fury.