Samir felt utter despair.
Unlike everyone else, Samir had come here to join a friend and make some money, but he hadn't found his friend and instead got dumped onto the battlefield of Bakhmut.
Though he was now considered a veteran, Bakhmut had never offered anyone hope.
That was right—in Bakhmut, surviving more than twenty-four hours made you a veteran.
Even then, a veteran would be lucky to outlive a raw recruit by just another twenty-four hours.
Samir looked over at Gao Fei once again.
He didn't know what else to say about this younger brother he had met at the recruitment office. He'd simply figured that having an extra friend on the battlefield meant having someone to rely on, never imagining the kid was a secret-boss-level sharpshooter.
He had only wanted a partner for mutual survival, yet he had somehow latched onto a golden thigh.
Bakhmut offered no hope, but Rex did.
Parker was right on the mark: whether they survived or not all came down to Rex.
Yet here lay the problem—facing an enemy on one front was manageable, but getting flanked from two sides was brutal.
And now, hostiles were closing in from three directions at once. How could they possibly fight this?
It wasn't that Samir lacked faith in Rex; the enemy simply wasn't giving them a chance.
Even if Rex fought like ten men on his own, twenty men still couldn't hold off a fierce assault launched by over a hundred enemies from three different directions.
But wait, what was going on?
Why weren't the enemies pushing? Why hadn't the hostiles on the right attacked?
What baffled Samir even more was why the enemies on the right weren't coordinating with their friendly forces from the other two directions. Why hadn't they formed a three-sided encirclement? Why were their reactions so sluggish?
A three-pronged pincer attack would have finished them off, so why had they left the enemies on the left hanging out in the open?
There was no telling how many hostiles were coming from the left, but their charge was fiercely determined.
After tossing a few hand grenades, they began charging with wild roars.
Had these bastards lost their minds?
Samir couldn't make sense of it.
"Hold them off! They're being pursued!"
Parker yelled again, shouting at the top of his lungs despite the enemy's proximity.
Realization dawned on Samir. Of course! The enemies on the right were falling back, while those on the left had been driven toward them by the platoon leader leading the assault squad, a detachment from the penal battalion, and 2nd Squad. The enemies on the left had to run—and run immediately.
In this kind of combat, nobody took prisoners. If they didn't want to die, they had to take a desperate gamble.
Hope suddenly reignited inside Samir.
If the enemy wasn't hitting them from all three directions simultaneously, but coming in staggered waves, then... then Rex could actually handle this!
Samir looked toward Gao Fei, and once again, he witnessed a godlike performance.
The godlike performance wasn't complicated, nor was it flashy. It was simple—incredibly simple, so simple it seemed unbelievable.
No, more accurately, it defied comprehension.
All Rex did was raise his rifle and fire. One shot, a brief pause, another shot. He just fired single rounds one by one, appearing no different from anyone else, with nothing miraculous on the surface.
Yet every shot Rex fired found its mark. The most miraculous part was that he unfailingly pulled the trigger before the enemy did.
Firing first, hitting with every pull, landing shot after shot, killing with every hit. Through this simple rhythm, the enemy couldn't advance a single step.
Was this just miraculous?
This was a god.
He was a bona fide, life-saving deity, damn it!
Tears welled in Samir's eyes. The situation had deteriorated so fast, yet Rex had turned it around with breathtaking speed.
From hope to despair, and from despair to a glimpse of survival, his heart had been on a total roller coaster. What a rush!
A moment ago, Samir's ears had buzzed with deafening silence, but watching Rex drop the desperately charging enemies one by one until their corpses piled high in the left passage, the world's sounds suddenly rushed back into his ears.
The enemies had given up trying to break through via the trench. Scrambling out of the trench onto the exposed open ground, they gave mere mortals like Samir and the others a chance to open fire and knock them down.
Suddenly, an epiphany hit Samir.
So shifting the tide of battle was this simple—all you had to do was fight like Rex.
All it took was a single rifle to seal off the passage of a dozen men; all it took was dropping each one as they appeared until they broke completely, choosing to abandon the trench and expose themselves entirely to every machine gun and rifle rather than keep charging down that corridor.
Simple. Bloody simple.
Samir opened fire and shot an enemy clambering out of the trench, scoring his very first confirmed kill of the battle.
You never got to fight like this under normal circumstances. Hitting an enemy in battle wasn't something just anyone could pull off.
Expending hundreds of rounds without ever catching a glimpse of the enemy was the norm; spraying thousands of bullets toward the general area of hostiles was what ordinary combat looked like.
Firing from the flank at broken, panicking enemies like this was abnormal, but it was remarkably easy.
A dozen men, maybe even twenty, wiped out just like that?
If battles could always be fought like this, Samir felt he could do it too.
"Right side! Fuck! You idiot, watch the right!"
Parker viciously kicked Samir.
Samir snapped back to his senses instantly. He had been so elated, so caught up in marveling at the miracle, that he'd momentarily forgotten his job.
Scrambling to turn around and swing his muzzle, Samir knew he shouldn't raise his head—it went against his usual fighting style. But now, he felt he had to look.
They had to hold off the enemies on the right so Rex could freely deal with the ones on the left. Blind-firing with his rifle poked haphazardly over the parapet wasn't going to cut it anymore.
Samir wasn't actually a coward; when the time came to be fierce, he could be fierce enough.
Plucking up his courage, Samir took a peek. Not a single enemy who had dared suppress them moments earlier was visible now; only rifles held above their heads were firing blind, wild bursts in his direction.
So now it was the enemy's turn to do faith-based spray-and-pray.
Idiots.
If he hadn't run out of hand grenades, Samir would have definitely lobbed a few over.
What a waste. Truly a shame.
Samir wanted to search the enemy corpses for a few grenades to toss—in a situation like this, grenades would yield maximum carnage.
Right then, however, Parker muttered beside him, "We can countercharge! The enemy is in disarray! Charge over, take out a few, and the rest will either break or surrender!"
Parker actually wanted to launch a countercharge?
Samir whipped his head around in shock, only to see Andrey exclaim with glee, "Great! A countercharge! I'm in!"
Fucking retards!
Before Samir could curse out loud, he heard Sokholov chime in, "Good! Countercharge!"
Fuck all you morons! Why the hell countercharge instead of safely hunkering down and defending in a spot like this?!
Samir began to seethe with anger. He couldn't understand, couldn't fathom how these idiots' brains worked. He didn't want to die, nor did he want to watch Sokholov and the rest get themselves killed, because if these fools died, he was a dead man too.
Once on the battlefield, their fates were bound together.
A wave of bitter indignation washed over Samir.
But then, Sokholov abruptly shouted toward Gao Fei, "Rex! Cover us, suppress them!"
Wait.
Samir's anger vanished in a flash.
Right. If they could launch a surprise attack, opening fire and pinning the enemy before they realized what was happening, and then have Rex push in from behind, they could thoroughly crush them.
If that was the case, the advantage was on their side!
"I'm in too!"
The death-defying words burst out before he could stop himself. Samir was taken aback by his own reckless impulse, but he pressed on, "As long as we move fast enough, the enemy won't have time to react..."
No one listened to a word Samir said; he was completely ignored.
Parker said to Gao Fei, "Reload. Follow behind me."
Parker only cared about staying alive, but he wasn't spineless.
Far from being a coward, Parker had plenty of guts when it came to staying alive, and he would never shrink back when a gamble was called for.
The pressure landed on Gao Fei.
Yet Gao Fei felt no pressure whatsoever.
Was shooting people on sight supposed to be hard?
Not at all.
Aside from reloading a little slowly, Gao Fei had no weaknesses.
Watching Gao Fei slap in a fresh magazine, an impatient Parker whispered, "You're one, he's two, you're three, I'm four. Rex, follow behind me. Ready... go!"
Andrey took the lead, Samir was second, Sokholov third, Parker fourth, and Gao Fei followed behind Parker.
Parker's formation looked risky, but practically speaking, it wasn't complicated: two cannon fodder up front to soak up bullets, Sokholov looked experienced, Parker knew his own combat prowess, and Rex brought up the rear.
No matter how many hostiles there were, the advantage was on their side.
At the command, the four men surged out in a tightly packed formation.
Shoulder to shoulder, with no room to evade, they countercharged straight into the enemy's densest concentration.
Parker never fought blindly. He might send others to their deaths, but whenever he committed himself to battle, it was guaranteed to be the optimal moment.
The timing of a countercharge mattered more than anything else—more than firepower density, terrain, or troop numbers.
Hitting them before the routed enemy could be forced into a charge caught them completely off guard.
Of course, the most critical part was that after the first four initiated the charge, the man bringing up the rear could turn this opportunity into an overwhelming victory.
Like the final straw that broke the camel's back, delivering crushing suppression with pinpoint fire to wipe out any enemies coming back to their senses, leaving them unable to return fire amidst their shock and terror.
Only like this could a countercharge succeed.
Most importantly, only like this would a countercharge avoid being a suicide run.
The breach went astonishingly smooth. The enemy never expected anyone to charge right into their crowded trench.
Andrey opened fire with wild shouts, and Samir sprayed as he moved in.
The enemy's density far exceeded Parker's expectations; to his shock, the enemy soldiers were jammed together as well.
There was simply no describing this godforsaken place called Bakhmut.
Every cursed scenario imaginable played out here; anything absurd became the norm.
Falling back was too late, but the most fatal issue was that the two pieces of cannon fodder in front hadn't been hit—they hadn't gone down.
And if they didn't clear the firing line, Rex had no room to shoot.
"Get down!" Parker roared.
In chaos like this, nobody could hear a thing. Parker's mind worked fast, his hands worked fast, and his feet worked faster. He didn't fire; instead, he planted a kick squarely into Andrey's backside.
After booting Andrey flat onto the ground, Parker threw himself down on Andrey's back and bellowed, "Rex!"
The firing line was clear.
Yelling for Rex was pure instinct—when a man was desperate enough, anything could come out of his mouth.
A cry to a true god for salvation.
With the firing lane cleared, an opening wide enough for a man appeared before Gao Fei. He opened fire on full auto, unleashing a storm of lead into the enemies kneeling or hunching in the trench.
Like a scythe reaping wheat, like trimming chives right down to the soil.
At this distance and density, anyone with hands could score hits.
Except Gao Fei wasn't like everyone else. He was more accurate, faster, and used fewer rounds to strike more enemies.
He burned through all thirty rounds in the magazine in a single breath, yet hostiles remained. Just as Gao Fei realized the mag was empty and he needed to reload, Parker—who had rolled onto his back atop Andrey—thrust upward with his own unfired rifle.
No need to reload. Gao Fei dropped his rifle, grabbed Parker's, and kept firing.
Chapter 50