According to common sense, I have no hope of survival. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Twelve enemy soldiers, as long as one of them finds me, it will be impossible to escape.

Confrontation is basically impossible.

Regardless of the odds of winning with a one-on-twelve match, even if this squad is killed, other squads, platoons, companies, and even higher-level combat organizations will immediately join.

How many superheroes in entertainment dramas can be killed?

Reason tells me that the best way to survive is to surrender.

But I don't want to be a prisoner, and I don't want to be a martyr.

He has participated in no less than a dozen battles, and he has been wounded and hospitalized three times.

Every time I wandered on the edge of life and death, I saw countless comrades-in-arms go before me.

I always felt guilty and thought that if I had been stronger, or had chosen a different approach at the time, maybe they wouldn't have died.

Whenever I recall the past, the voices and smiles of the dead comrades-in-arms are vivid.

As Karin said, my life is no longer my own, and my death must be worth the value of the Heroic Spirits who died because of me.

I can't be so passive anymore.

I'm going to grab my own star of destiny, even if it's a murderous star.

Max told me that the Sniper is the leader of the infantry, the class with the highest kill in history.

They don't rely on brute force.

The record for the highest single kill ever achieved by a human warrior was set by a man nicknamed the White Grim Reaper on ancient Earth. He killed and wounded more than 540 enemy soldiers in the war.

What is it that makes such a murderous king on the battlefield?

Environment, marksmanship, psychological quality, experience, these factors seem to be useful, but none of them seem to be able to make a soldier kill and wound hundreds of people in a war and then retreat.

Max, as an elite sniper who has killed hundreds of people, has his own opinions.

"First of all you have to have the heart of a sniper, cold, quiet and absolutely calm. That's not enough, you need to learn to plant fear in the hearts of your enemies. Once the fear in their hearts takes root and spreads quickly from person to person, you're ready to become a legendary sniper. ”

Max died, he died under siege by a disproportionate number of enemies.

In my eyes, he is a legendary sniper.

At least for the time we fought together, he was a nightmare for the enemy. Successfully killed more than 50 people, with the highest rank being Colonel.

He was the White Grim Reaper beside me.

The only things I can rely on now are Max's theories and Lincoln's fighting skills.

The former gives me hope, and the latter is the grip of my search for hope.

"Stay calm and create fear."

As the enemy's infantry squad approached, I adhered to Max's credo, not thinking about the consequences of defeat, and devoted myself to the operation of creating "fear".

The searching enemies stood in similarly spaced rows and walked slowly in my direction.

The muzzles of their guns glistened coldly, and their faces were cold.

100 meters away, I'm ready.

I checked the assault rifle picked up from the corpse of my comrade again, and prayed in my heart that the deceased would be with me and go into battle to kill the enemy.

At a distance of fifty meters, twelve enemies spread out in front of me, and the horizontal column of one hundred and twenty meters gave a sense of oppression more than the usual platoon.

I glanced at the trap that had been laid out, and although it was rudimentary, it was my hope of survival, and I didn't know if it would succeed.

Do your best and let God do your best.

The assault rifle was aimed at the squad leader among the twelve.

The infantry armor on his chest was particularly conspicuous, and he was clearly not a veteran.

At this distance, even I, a shooting rookie, are sure to hit the target.

The finger couldn't help but pull the trigger and began to exert force.

Reason stopped this impulsive behavior in time.

If I shoot now, I won't have a second chance to shoot.

My purpose is to survive, not to kill a rookie squad leader here.

The line continues to advance.

To say not to be nervous is a lie.

It's just that I managed to suppress my active mind.

"Now is not the time, calm down."

Thirty meters, the nearest enemy is less than two meters away from the mine.

I picked up my assault rifle and started aiming.

The target is not a rookie squad leader, but the one with the most steady pace in the queue.

Under the smoke of the grenade explosion, an enemy soldier fell down screaming.

There was a confusion in the line.

The enemy turned their guns one after another.

No one noticed the blood line spurting from the back of the stave veteran's head, and he collapsed without even a snort.

A continuous burst of gunfire rang out, interspersed with the explosion of grenades and the roars of fighters.

The enemy rushed to the side of the thunderbolt in confusion, where there was a corpse I had arranged, making it appear that it was too late to retract after a sneak attack.

Standard infantry squad tactics are extremely effective against individual soldiers.

However, the premise of tactical success is to find out the specific position of the opponent.

While the enemy was attacking the poor corpse, I fired again.

The rookie squad leader dragged last, thinking that his position was the safest.

It's a pity that when all his comrades are charging forward, his position is at the forefront.

At a distance of less than fifteen meters, even I have the confidence to point where to hit it.

The nail shot through the rookie squad leader's armpit, peeking through the side of his neck, bringing out a canopy of blood.

His hand stretched forward in vain, but unfortunately no one saw his efforts, and the body fell to the ground crookedly.

By this time, the enemy had already "killed" the corpse of the illusion.

The remaining nine men paused their operations and prepared to assemble.

I hurriedly leaned down, only to hear the surprised inhalations of the enemy soldiers and the shouts of warning.

Under a series of lying sounds, the scene became surprisingly quiet.

I realized that the first phase of the operation had been successful.

Max was right, and his composure combined with fear had a more than expected effect.

Time is tight, and the second phase must begin immediately, without giving the enemy a chance to reminisce.

I ventured to my feet, when gunfire rang out from a dozen meters away, and I saw the enemy soldier lying on his stomach almost burying his head in the ground.

Raise your gun and shoot at the enemy soldier lying on the ground.

The nails entered from the side and stayed inside, and I quickly lay down.

I heard someone shouting in a language I didn't understand.

A grenade was thrown just a few meters away from me.

Was it seen?

I didn't dare to dodge.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes stared at this, and the rash action was really exposed.

Hope is theirs.

The grenade exploded, and the sonic boom made my eyes glow, and my ears were full of metal echoes.

The dust fell on me. I didn't dare to look up and observe the situation.

The sound of creeping forward was heard in different directions.

My heart lifted.

What should I do if I am discovered?

Whether to stand up and rush out, or to resist on the spot with an assault rifle.

I know that no matter which option you choose, it's a dead end.

With one to eight, there will be no suspense in a head-on conflict.

"The closer you are to the dead, the farther you will be from the kingdom of death."

Max's advice is still in my ears.

I suppressed my imminent heart, gripped my assault rifle, and finally stayed where I was.

Grenades exploded one after another, and the dust and rubble almost buried me.

Finally another shot rang out, and at the location of the wreckage of the heavy infantry, which was the third trap I had made.

The delay triggered the explosion a little later, and I almost thought the trap had failed.

The creeping sound stopped.

Hear Proxima Centauri arguing fiercely.

I didn't understand it, but I could roughly tell that they were arguing about where I was.

Apparently the sound of gunfire from different directions confused them.

Not long after the argument began, a shuttle bullet hit the edge of the crater I was in, and gravel and dirt bounced into my face.

The splinter cut open my cheek, and I felt only a burning pain in the wound, and the warm liquid flowed down my neck.

I still held my assault rifle tightly, motionless.

The creeping sound was far away. It seems that the enemy abandoned the direction in which I was located.

A few minutes later, next to the third trap, grenade explosions and gunfire rang out.

I poked my body out of the crater slightly, revealing only my head and the muzzle.

The remaining enemy soldiers are besieging my "hideout".

I choose my target carefully.

This time the targets are all in motion, it is difficult to hit, and the distance is not close.

I'm going to choose the one who has the most to grasp.

Two enemy soldiers quickly moved between the different bunkers, one of them carrying a large squad machine gun.

The main reason I chose him was that the Heavy was a better target because he was big and slow-moving.

However, there are drawbacks to attacking him, and the secondary shooter is likely to be able to determine where I am with the help of ballistics. So I need to knock out two people in one go.

It was a serious test of my marksmanship.

Cautiously aiming at the torso of my target, I held my breath and waited for the inevitable assault rifle to fire after the grenade exploded.

With the sound of heavy gunfire, I deducted the flight.

The series of lines of fire crossed a distance of more than forty meters in the blink of an eye, and the machine gunner fell to the ground in response.

The assistant shooter acted in a way that I had not expected, and instead of lying down or seeking my position, he yelled and ran in the direction of the town.