Using a Gun

The rain fell even harder, sheeting before his eyes like flowing torrents. The slaughter all around grew increasingly fierce. Standing amid the curtain of rain, Wen Jifei continued to wait for movement from that patch of woods. He could lock down the general area, but he couldn't spot the man. The other shooter had excellent vision and was certainly watching him, but remained remarkably patient and steady, waiting for another chance to strike. His opponent was a master. How good a sniper was could actually be gauged to a certain extent before he even fired a shot. For a top sniper, the complexity and difficulty of assessment, positioning, timing, and psychological warfare far surpassed the single pull of an index finger. For a long time, Voyage's research into spacecraft and source energy propulsion had even surpassed Azure's, which was precisely why Azure had swallowed its pride to seek cooperation back then. They had always attempted research into source energy firearms and cultivated specialized gunners for that purpose. This was also why Azure had permitted them to participate in the source energy firearm research this time. Furthermore, Iris hadn't originally been named Iris; it was called Hope. It was supposed to have stayed locked in the laboratory. Before the special project was suspended, a total of eleven new firearms had been manufactured. Four had exploded. Of the remaining seven, Azure had issued only six. The "Hope" currently sealed in the laboratory was a fake. Of course, those caught in the thick of things did not yet know these hidden truths. The standoff continued. Both sides knew clearly that if either of them fell now, the other would hold immense sway over the coming clash between the top combat powers. The current situation was growing increasingly unfavorable for their side. Truth be told, Wen Jifei should have been anxious; he looked as though he couldn't do a thing. There were also far more distractions around him than around his opponent. Yet he felt none of it. He was a sniper. He remembered Milla once saying that when wielding a gun, you weren't a shooter; you were the gun itself—especially when you chose a sniper rifle. A sniper rifle was the most demanding weapon. Because opportunities were always scarce. Amid those few chances—more often than not, just a single one—what a sniper rifle had to do was fire once, hit the mark, and finish the kill. In Wen Jifei's mind now, there were no extraneous thoughts or emotions. Occasionally, blades flashed past within half a meter of his body at their closest. Sometimes swords were hurled toward him, but he didn't even show the reflexive urge to dodge, nor did he pay them any mind. There were too many enemies. Rusty Sister couldn't block every single attack, but within the narrow radius of close combat, her control as a top combat power remained formidable. Blood poured from He Tangtang, washed pale by the downpour. His wounds turned stark white in the rain, smarting sharply under the suppression of source energy. He Tangtang had taken two slashes across his back, the flesh gaping open. Those had been two blades originally aimed at Wen Jifei. Now, those two lay dead not far from Wen Jifei's feet. Nearly twenty corpses were already sprawled across the ground around Wen Jifei. Some lay sideways, some had fallen straight toward him, and some were piled on top of each other. The rainwater flowing over the earth was red—fading, turning red again, and fading once more. "Can Major Qing still fight? If not, I can keep you company while we watch your people get worn down to death." The man across from him was Han Qingyu. Zhe Shouzhao was itching to try his hand, yet at the same time, he couldn't help feeling uneasy, nervous, and apprehensive. As he spoke, swinging his right arm wide, he pulled a short sword roughly the length of a forearm and palm from behind his waist. Then he drew another from behind his shoulder. Han Qingyu tried lifting his left arm, but couldn't raise it. Boom! With a tremendous surge of source energy, his right hand drew a blade, and he catapulted forward in a single stride. Three men moved to block his path one after another; all three died. Han Qingyu's lightning-fast figure surged straight up. Standing atop a boulder, Zhe Shouzhao detonated his source energy with an answering boom, letting out a loud shout as he raised both short swords to block the strike. Clang! The rock beneath Zhe Shouzhao's feet cracked with a sharp snap, half a slab shearing off and flying away. Yet the feeling of withstanding that first blow put Zhe Shouzhao slightly at ease. He found that the gap between himself and the illustrious Han Qingyu didn't seem all that vast. Because at the same moment, Han Qingyu had also been jarred backward in midair by his frontal block. Except Han Qingyu didn't fly backward. As if his feet had found solid purchase, he shifted his steps in midair, twisted sideways, and hurled the blade with an underhand throw of his right hand. The released warblade spun like lightning toward the area Wen Jifei had locked down. This was Han Qingyu's true first strike. He wanted to break the deadlock for Plague Chicken, but it proved to be merely an attempt. Sure enough, two figures crawling on the ground leaped up one after the other, slashing at the spinning warblade in the air. Clang! While the thrown blade was still airborne, Han Qingyu drew his second blade with his right hand and cleaved forward once more. This time, Zhe Shouzhao didn't choose to parry. With his confidence bolstered, he chose to counter with a direct slash of his own. The clash of blade and swords stirred a strange pop in the air like exploding sparks of fire. With the second strike, the result was no different: Han Qingyu was once again repelled. Zhe Shouzhao felt that with Han Qingyu severely wounded, he had an excellent chance of winning this fight on his own tonight. And then, once more, Han Qingyu twisted sideways in midair. This time—whoosh! A massive blue starlight column sword skimmed past his back, hurtling like lightning straight toward Zhe Shouzhao's face. Han Qingyu and the blue starlight column sword could move relative to one another—man toward sword, or sword toward man. The wooden box had already been laid on the grass earlier. This was another instance of relative movement, sword toward man, only this time Han Qingyu chose not to catch it. The blue starlight column sword expanded in Zhe Shouzhao's pupils, filling his entire field of vision. Not until this moment did he realize how conceited he had been. In a fight to the death, he wasn't even in the same league as Han Qingyu—even when Han Qingyu was grievously injured and had only one usable arm. This Huaxia major, publicly called "The Stars" by Azure Alliance newspapers, had made his name through bitter struggle after bitter struggle and battles to the death. What he possessed was far more than source energy surges—it was the lethal craft that truly decided life and death on the battlefield. Zhe Shouzhao retreated. There was no way to evade it, yet he knew he would not die. Because at that very instant, a figure had already leaped down from a nearby tree, source energy surging through the air. Holding twin blades upright, the figure slashed toward the blue starlight column sword. A top combat power—the fourth top-tier including Zhe Shouzhao himself. This was virtually Voyage's entire armed force. Rocher had originally stayed hidden, waiting for an opportunity to ambush Han Qingyu. Zhe Shouzhao had intended from the very start for Han Qingyu's group to truly die tonight; otherwise, he wouldn't have used a gun, nor would he have said some of the things he did. Yet now, Rocher was forced to jump out on his own initiative to block this blow for him. A deafening crash rang out. Rocher connected with his strike, and the moment he did, he realized what a catastrophic mistake Zhe Shouzhao's decision tonight had been. Crack! The blades in Rocher's hands shattered, but the column sword was not knocked down, only slightly deflected... Shhk! The massive, umbrella-like flared edge grazed Rocher's neck, cheek, and earlobe, tearing open a massive bloody gash before driving on toward Zhe Shouzhao behind him. Zhe Shouzhao was taller than Rocher. Thwack! Zhe Shouzhao was swept clean off his feet as the blue starlight column sword sheared a chunk of flesh from his shoulder, blood gushing like a fountain from the white-shirted scion. This sword—he had said earlier that he wanted it, asking Han Qingyu to give it to him. When the sword was delivered, he couldn't catch it. This entire sequence had happened so fast. So fast that on the other side, the two men who had struck away the Rusty Sister Vortex Slash were only just landing. In Wen Jifei's vision, cutting through the curtain of rain, the enemy sniper on the high ground suddenly stood up with gun in hand, muzzles pointing directly at one another. An act practically tantamount to suicide. Wen Jifei did not fire. At the bullet's velocity, if he shot, one of the men falling from the air across the clearing would catch the bullet and die in the sniper's place. The sniper named Niger was baiting out his shot. Without baiting it, Niger wouldn't have an opening to shoot. The instant after standing to face Wen Jifei, Niger was already twisting sideways, swiveling his muzzle toward Han Qingyu. Wen Jifei's gun hadn't fired... Wen Jifei's gun fired, ringing out just a fraction of a beat later than Niger had anticipated. It was that tiny fraction that brought a bitter smile to the corners of Niger's mouth. He was too late. In midair, the bullet threaded precisely between the falling man's neck and shoulder, drilling into Niger's temple from the side.