Chapter 477: Volume 5, Chapter 71: Sniping (Part 2)_3
What are they doing now? Having a meeting, drafting a combat plan, chatting over coffee?
Everyone’s mind was filled with various speculations. They tried hard to calm themselves and not get too anxious, but chaotic thoughts still popped up in their heads from time to time. Several hours had passed, Fatty, what was he thinking now? When would he be able to deliver that earth-shattering shot in this muddy mess? Would that shot hit the target? Would his hand tremble?
On SkyNet, Fatty tilted his ear slightly.
The atmosphere in front of SkyNet suddenly became tense. Less than four hundred steps away from Fatty, a patrol team consisting of a "Holy Sword" 18 and five soldiers appeared.
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The combat meeting was over, Stephen leaned back in his chair and stretched lazily. The noble upbringing and cautious behavior instilled in him since childhood rarely let him relax like this in front of others.
"Defeated so thoroughly." Stephen looked at the battle report in his hand once again, feeling a bit incredulous.
No one could have imagined that Gazalin’s most elite corps, the most arrogant General, would be driven into such a frantic mess. This time, Reinhardt had truly lost face.
Hours ago, this news wasn’t so amusing. However, after Desic’s armored unit occupied Prisk with unstoppable momentum and advanced rapidly eastward, this news became interesting.
Jiacuo still held the elite armored division of Feiyang within his territory through his management. Nearly forty infantry divisions and sixteen armored divisions’ successive blockades had prevented the Feiyang people from making any effective breakthroughs. The scales of victory were slowly tipping in his favor.
As long as this battle is over, the Western Alliance will understand that Reinhardt is not as strong as he appears to be. The ones who truly dominate this planet are still the old noble families of Gazalin! Still the Morton family!
Stephen put down the battle report and looked up. In the combat meeting room, the generals were chatting casually, and some were even adding more coffee to their cups. It seemed no one was planning to leave immediately. After such a prolonged period of tension, this was a rare moment of relaxation for everyone.
Suddenly, Stephen remembered his half-brother. A trace of melancholy crossed his face before he shook his head with a smile. Considering this now was pushing himself too hard. The future was still long.
Stephen stood up and walked out under the enthusiastic discussions of the surrounding generals and confidants. The 39th Division was his final decisive force. Now, it was time to unleash this fierce tiger. Jiacuo must not fall before the dawn of victory. He had already prepared a stirring speech to personally rally his most loyal unit.
The corridor of the small building was a bit dim. This was due to the materials used in the construction of this fortress-like building. Descending the stairs, the sunlight and fresh air greeted him outside the doors opened by the guards ahead.
Stephen smiled as he walked toward the doorway.
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The patrol team ascended the mountain path along the ridge. Perhaps because they were in the rear, the patrolling soldiers were chatting as they walked. The chatter grew closer and closer.
"To calm the muddy water." Fatty still held the gun steadily. At this moment, not only was his heart as calm as still water. He had even turned himself into a placid lake. The approaching sounds and vibrations of the mecha behind him had been completely shut out of his senses.
When the sentries appeared in the scope, pushing the door open and taking guard positions, the entire world vanished in Fatty’s consciousness, leaving only that dot on the reticle three kilometers away.
Before SkyNet, some advisors had already closed their eyes, and most had sweaty palms. The silent and flashless sniper rifle might not alert the Christers Base, but it would surely not escape the mecha’s sensors less than a hundred meters away!
"Death is the cycle of life. When we face each other..." Fatty ignored the approaching patrol team. His breathing synchronized with the faint trembling rhythm of the sniper rifle as he recited silently.
The recitation continued: "I am not a killer, you are not a victim, we are merely dragged into this vortex by fate..."
The "Holy Sword" 18 human-shaped mecha had already reached the slope behind Fatty. It rotated its body, scanning all around. The machine emitted a harsh, grating sound. Behind it, the patrol soldiers caught up, panting. One soldier leaned against a tree, bending over and complaining, eliciting laughter from the other soldiers.
In the scope, a few generals emerged first from the small building, their bodies turned sideways. Following their semi-encircling formation, Stephen, surrounded by his men, appeared in the reticle.
Sunlight cast a shadow over the eaves of the small building’s entrance. Stephen walked briskly forward while talking. Most of his body was blocked by a Vice Admiral beside him; only his smiling face flashed briefly in the reticle.
Behind Fatty, less than ten meters away, a soldier being mocked gestured threateningly with his gun, drawing more laughter.
"In this worldly vortex, I have no choice..." Silently reciting, the gun’s dark muzzle moved slowly.
Stephen stepped out of the shadow, took a deep breath in the sunlight, and then stepped down the first step. The general beside him had already stepped onto the second step. A gap suddenly appeared.
"And neither do you." The recitation stopped. The reticle locked firmly onto the target.
After what seemed like an eternity, the gunshot rang out. On the SkyNet screen, Stephen’s head jerked suddenly to the side. A cloud of blood sprayed out, covering the nearby general in a mist of red.
Several guards pounced forward. A female officer at the back let out a piercing scream.
Stephen fell. His head hit the ground. The quickly spreading bloodstain was shocking under the sunlight. His head had a gaping hole on the side, and his eyes were open, staring blankly at the sky. In the sky, two birds chirped sharply, chasing each other to the roof of the small building.
In front of SkyNet, Nia grabbed Bonnie’s hand. The two women held tightly onto each other.
Time seemed to freeze.
Fatty slowly withdrew his gun, his face calm and cold... but trembling... His eyes rolled left and right, trying to see the situation behind him. His body started to sink. His trembling lips continued the silent recitation.
"...Since neither of us had a choice, don’t blame me. Rest in peace. Don’t come looking for me in my dreams, and don’t watch me when I make love."
The soldier holding the energy gun looked bewildered. His comrades, startled by the gunshot, gave him angry glares after reflexively dodging. The soldier, looking wronged, stammered, "It wasn’t me!" while inspecting his own gun.
Fatty’s eyes sunk into the mud, but through his breathing hollow tube, he stubbornly and indistinctly continued his chant: "As they say, early death results in early reincarnation. Another thing they say is, when will the cycle of vengeance end? Those behind me disturb my peace. Could you do me a favor and send them back?"
The seconds in front of the SkyNet screen felt like centuries, long enough to drive people mad.
Patrol soldiers exchanged peculiar looks. As they spread out in a guard formation, Fatty’s hair finally submerged completely into the mud.
In the muddy water, a tiny bubble floated. The bubble shifted as if something drew it, slipping under a withered leaf.
In the sky, a jet roared, descending towards the base’s distant airfield. Then, a piercing alarm sounded abruptly from the base.
On the rooftops, roadside, and at the gate, sirens spun frantically, dyeing the entire base in red light.
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Heaven knows, this is definitely not a stored manuscript.
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