The behavior of the secondary shooter was unexpected,

But it's good for me. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

Not only did his actions distract the others, but it also gave me an extra chance to attack.

For such an enemy who is actually good for me, I am naturally reluctant to end his life.

Leaned down and ran towards my first target, the corpse of the veteran.

Proxima Centauri takes the identification of weapons and equipment very seriously, and even if they are discarded on the battlefield, their equipment cannot be used immediately.

Luckily, my goal wasn't for "smart" gear with an authentication mechanism, but just for a change of outfit.

The corpse was lying on its back on the ground, its head shattered, including its visor.

There was a blur of flesh and blood in the half-cut helmet. The red, white, and eyeballs are confused in a pot of porridge-like brain tissue.

After hesitating for a moment, I dismissed the idea of using this helmet, and I would rather die if I had to put my head in such a disgusting thing.

Reason tells me that the legendary snipers Max spoke of would not have such a psychological barrier.

In the end, I still didn't put the human brain porridge on my head. After all, I'm not really a legendary sniper, and I didn't want to be the king of battlefield killers who killed hundreds of people.

There was an argument on the battlefield, the secondary shooter was stopped, and he was still trying to flee the scene.

Proxima Centauri's exchange was intense and short, and after the crisp sound of the gunshot, his body went limp.

He was apparently treated as a deserter.

With the fall of the sub-shooter, the actual combat strength of the combat squad was reduced by half, and my plan was half successful.

The next step is no longer to kill the rest of the people, in fact that doing so will not do me any benefit other than attract more enemies.

The next thing I have to do is spread the fear.

According to Max, this is the key to success.

As soon as fear spreads, the organization's advantage over the individual will temporarily disintegrate.

During this time, I will be able to "do whatever I want".

Subconsciously licked his lips.

I muttered in my heart that I wouldn't have gone further and further on the road of no return for the perverted murderer.

I don't want to be a murderer, but in order to survive, at least I have to be one now.

Finding suitable cover, I raised the assault rifle again.

The remaining enemies are still squabbling.

The merits of killing squad leaders and veterans are manifested.

The dragons are leaderless, and the soldiers of the same level who are brave enough to enforce military law will not only fail to have a deterrent effect, but will also cause a backlash from their companions.

If left unchecked, there will even be vicious incidents such as fires.

Under normal circumstances, timely contact with a higher-ranking officer or the internal affairs force can quickly quell the dispute.

It's a pity I won't let them get their way.

The quarrel between the soldiers became fierce, and the two leaders even stood up regardless of the danger, opened their masks and scolded each other directly.

One of them had a fierce face, and some soldiers with the demeanor of a butcher were in the active position.

His shouting and scolding could be heard clearly from my position. The person also made provocative gestures and gestures.

The other person was surrounded by two companions. Although they were superior in numbers, they were much weaker in momentum, and were forced to retreat by the butchers.

The contrast between the two sides is obvious, and I can guess without thinking about it that the one who shoots the sub-gunner must be the stronger one.

A group of people are scolding each other on the battlefield with impunity, and as a veteran, I have to educate them on what the rules of the battlefield are.

Although the group of people were all behind cover, they all made the action of lowering their figures, but the infighting caused their movements to be not standard.

Especially the guy with the butcher's face.,The tactical movements are particularly deformed.,His upper body is completely exposed.。。

I raised my assault rifle and the other side was more than 50 meters away from my position. With my marksmanship, it's entirely possible to miss the target at this distance.

Missing the target is not the point, and if the butcher takes control of the rest of the people because of this, everything that has been done up front for me will be in vain.

"You have to understand that the work of a sniper is actually similar to walking a tightrope, and any one measure will lead to a catastrophe."

I now have a deeper understanding of Max's point of view.

This shot is extremely important, but I don't have much time to prepare.

I could only do as much as I could in the training, shoot in a correct position, aim at the torso of the target, and shoot at the target.

This time I didn't deliberately hide the gunshots.

As the guns rang out, most of the enemy soldiers lay on the ground, and only the vicious-looking guy stood motionless.

He first looked down at the huge wound in his abdomen, and his face full of flesh showed an incredible expression.

When he looked up in my direction, he fell to the ground.

The unvocal shout came from someone lying down, and the other five stood up and ran wildly.

They looked as if they were being chased by a beast behind them.

The appearance of the enemy fleeing with his head in his hands looks hilarious, and there is no image of slaughter in the early days.

I even find it strange that the Martian military would lose to such a group of funny guys.

I stood up and methodically changed the combat uniform on the corpse.

This kind of calm and calm was absolutely unimaginable before.

It's not that my abilities have become stronger, nor that my enemies have become weaker.

It all comes from fear.

I vaguely feel that it is not unattainable to kill more than 100 and become a legend.

As long as you use fear as a tool, the people on the battlefield are just veterans.

……

That's the good thing about scaring people away.

Since the troops were out of control rather than lost, the deserters tried to delay the situation as much as possible in order to buy themselves a longer escape time and to avoid punishment after the fact.

This created extremely convenient conditions for my retreat.

The direction of the retreat has been considered in advance.

In the direction of the gorge, the 112 Brigade was lost, and God knows what measures the Equatorial Army would take. Perhaps at the other exit of the canyon you will encounter the enemy's newly established defensive line.

Stuck between two heavily fortified lines of defense, the chance of being spotted by the enemy is greatly increased, and I will first abandon the practice of returning the way I came.

There are also difficulties in finding other exits along the ridge.

It is not known the enemy's defensive status, and the intersection of the lines of control between the two sides of the battle is the world of scouts.

For a single soldier like me who has lost his equipment, it is better not to try to fight with those elites in the army.

This road also does not work.

There is only one option left, and that is to go deep into enemy-occupied territory.

With the help of the situation and the cover of a large number of residents of the occupied areas, look for opportunities.

This is the retreat path with the greatest opportunity, and my principles speak for themselves.

Wearing a Proxima Centauri uniform, although it doesn't fit very well, it is much safer to walk in the occupied area.

The only problem was that my hair color and face shape were far from the Saracen image.

In order not to be recognized as an impostor, I followed the example of the Special Forces and painted my face black and dirty.

After successfully infiltrating the residential area behind the defensive line, he realized that his worries were completely unnecessary.

Most of the people walking in the Fallen Zone are Martian people.

When they met someone like me in the uniform of the occupation army, they didn't even dare to look at it properly, let alone notice the anomaly and denounce it.

There are advantages and disadvantages to uniforms.

When you go deeper into the occupied territory, the outfit becomes particularly conspicuous.

Everywhere they went, people avoided it like a plague god.

Obviously, walking in the occupied area with such a manifest appearance is the way to die.

I'll have to change my outfit into the clothes of a normal civilian.

But people are far away from me, where do they go to get ordinary people's clothes?

If you reveal your identity, will it attract the pursuit of the enemy?

The retreat plan that had been conceived well immediately became unfeasible.

At the uninhabited storage facility, I looked around blankly, and a sense of confusion that I didn't know where to go took over.

What to do next?