122 Counteroffensive (Second Update!)

The night was as thick as ink.

By the time the first wave of the attack ended, it was nearly 3:00 AM. According to the established operational plan, the next wave would commence in an hour. The Libyans seemed to have completely abandoned the outer defensive lines of Misrata; save for the militiamen who had fled in a panic, the ground was littered with nothing but corpses.

The battlefield fell suddenly silent. Aside from the faint, lingering scent of blood in the air, the atmosphere felt much lighter than before.

Despite sustaining significant casualties, Batra was clearly not a man to dwell on the past. Besides, this was war; war meant death, and no one was an exception. Partings and losses naturally held less weight on the battlefield.

His curiosity about Li Changjiang quickly eclipsed his underlying frustration.

"Duke, I’m curious about how you honed your marksmanship. At your age, I was still just a green recruit."

"Marksmanship? Batra, that’s just how I train."

Li Changjiang made a gesture of firing a gun. Although it looked somewhat comical, the expression on his face did not suggest he was joking. He certainly wouldn't tell Batra that what he practiced wasn't marksmanship, but rather, sheer nerve. If there was any secret to speak of, it was luck. If not for luck, who could believe that a situation straight out of a science fiction film would happen to them—that they would suddenly possess a "Natural Shooting System"?

Shaking his head, Batra signaled his disbelief. In truth, he didn't believe it. Every mercenary on the battlefield had their own untold history; since the other man was unwilling to elaborate, he naturally wouldn't press the issue.

"Hey!"

Nicholas lit a cigarette and handed it over.

Li Changjiang frowned. He never smoked, but at the moment, smoking seemed to have become a form of silent indulgence. It wasn't just the Russian; the rest of the team was also shrouded in smoke. The only one not smoking was the Brit, codenamed "Doctor" Lean, who was busy reading a small booklet. This seemed somewhat out of place given the scene; perhaps he should have been called a "battlefield poet" or a "writer" instead of a "Doctor."

"Thanks! You’re called 'Miser,' right? The Miser from the Eagle Lion Mercenary Group who participated in Operation Tiger Hunt and Operation Treasure? I’ve heard of you."

Batra’s expression was earnest. This made Li Changjiang want to laugh, but he couldn't. It seemed that this Russian bastard really was famous; even someone from a random mercenary group knew of him. Robbing Khamis’s vault! That was not something an ordinary person could pull off, and even if one had the guts to do it, surviving long enough to spend the loot was another matter entirely. These mercenaries were bored out of their minds, to the point where someone had actually given the robbery such an abstract name: "Operation Treasure."

What a Western way of thinking.

Li Changjiang truly admired the fact that the Russian had not only survived robbing the vault but had even forced Khamis to beg him to take on missions. It was definitely not as simple as the Russian made it sound. Although Li Changjiang didn't ask, he guessed it had something to do with that Russian arms dealer, Polika. The Silver Eagle Guard of Khamis was equipped with Russian gear; if not for the Russian’s connections, he certainly couldn't have obtained those supplies. The Russians might be poor, but in the hands of the rebels, no one would dare blatantly sell the few remaining items on the list of individual combat weapons.

"Batra! You participated in four counter-insurgency wars, and I know you too. 'The Eagle of South Africa.' I think your mercenary group shouldn't be called the Batra Mercenary Group, but rather the 'Golden Legion'."

Amidst Li Changjiang’s astonishment, Batra suddenly stood up and stared intently at the Russian.

It seemed that the name "Golden Legion" wasn't something the Russian had made up—it might actually be true. And in fact, it was. The Golden Legion had become famous because of a gold mine. Its early members were miners, and most were retired soldiers. But human greed is the root of all evil; after seeing the massive amounts of gold possessed by the mine owner, they began to feel resentful, which led to a robbery. It wasn't just a simple matter of killing the owner; they had seized the gold mine itself. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

At this point, silence fell once more. Batra didn't continue the conversation with the Russian but instead took his men to a building on the other side to clear the battlefield. For mercenaries, anything obtained on the battlefield was fair game. The Batra Mercenary Group was clearly not a group of "nouveau riche," so they wouldn't let such spoils go to waste.

"Hey, guys, come here!"

Li Changjiang hesitated when he heard the voice, but he got up and took Nicholas and Tanker with him.

"Duke, come take a look. It seems Khamis has found us quite a bit of trouble."

At his feet lay a corpse! But Li Changjiang couldn't distinguish what was different about this body.

"What?"

"It’s from a terrorist organization! Look here!"

With a rip, the Russian tore open the corpse’s shirt at the wrist and chest, then shone a flashlight on it. Both the arm and chest of the corpse bore tattoos—a strange, peculiar pattern.

A terrorist organization! This was definitely not the first time Li Changjiang had heard that name, but he had only ever seen it on television. He gave the Russian a skeptical look, clearly not understanding why this meant trouble.

"They are a bunch of desperadoes. If the rebels have really recruited these people into the war, then what we’re facing isn't just a bunch of militiamen and mercenaries anymore—it’s a group of lunatics."

Even the Russian’s tone had become grave. By this time, there were less than five minutes left until the start of the second attack.

"Duke, get ready for action! There are so many mercenaries participating in this operation; those damned terrorists might be someone else’s problem."

Batra was quite optimistic. Although Li Changjiang didn't understand why the terrorists made them so nervous, he trusted the Russian’s judgment. If even the Russians were this wary, perhaps they should try to avoid such trouble.

As a flare arced into the sky in the distance, Li Changjiang’s breathing suddenly quickened. He took a deep breath and stared fixedly toward Misrata; aside from gray, hazy shadows, everything before him was pitch black.

"Turn on your night vision goggles. Prepare to move."

With a click, he activated the night vision system on his helmet, and his field of view immediately turned a dark green. Seeing Batra signal to him, Li Changjiang immediately led Tanker and the other team members forward. They pushed over 500 meters into the defensive line without detecting any movement.

"Stop!"

Suddenly, Li Changjiang closed his fingers and pointed upward, signaling a halt. The men behind him stopped instantly.

"Boss! What’s the situation?"

"Something’s not right. Stay hidden!"

On the other side of the street, seeing the men stop and refuse to advance, Batra’s voice crackled over the comms.

"Duke, continue your advance."

But Li Changjiang still didn't move, staring intently at the abandoned buildings on both sides of the street, less than 20 meters away. If one were to set an ambush, that would be the perfect spot. The buildings on both sides were three stories high, providing a wide field of vision, excellent cover, and the high ground. Once the trap was sprung, the enemy would have no way out.

"Batra, the situation has changed. Up ahead—"

Li Changjiang hesitated, intending to voice his suspicions, but before he could finish, a flicker of light caught the corner of his eye through the night vision goggles.

"RPG!"

"Damn it, get down!"

BOOM!

A violent explosion erupted. The rocket slammed into the wall just above their heads, the intense flare of the blast instantly illuminating their silhouettes.

Bang, bang!

Rat-tat-tat-tat!