139 This Is Our Boss (Third update!)

Thwip!

The bullet struck the target a hundred meters away with surgical precision. Li Changjiang did not wait for the enemy to react before pulling the trigger again. Two more muffled thuds, and two Libyan militiamen who had just realized what was happening and were attempting to reposition slumped to the ground one after another.

Attack after attack.

Although the Libyans below were much slower than the bullets, they quickly pinpointed the sniper hiding on the upper floor.

Boom, boom, boom!
Rat-tat-tat!

A dense rain of bullets poured toward the storefront. Li Changjiang turned and dove into another window.

But the moment he lifted his head—

Boom!

A rocket-propelled grenade, trailing a plume of white smoke, arrived with a roar. The explosion unleashed a shockwave that shredded the mud and curtains on the surrounding walls. Glass shattered everywhere, raining down with a relentless clattering sound.

Hiss—

His back had been sliced open by several shards of flying glass. Li Changjiang winced in pain. Those damn Libyans had found his position far too quickly; he had to move immediately.

However, before he could recover from the blast, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the staircase in the corridor outside, accompanied by the shouts of Libyans in thick Arabic accents.

"Damn it! How did they get up here so fast?"

Without a second of hesitation, Li Changjiang scrambled up and leaped toward the window sill of an exit on the opposite side.

Boom, boom, boom!

As soon as he jumped down from the sill, a burst of gunfire raked the window behind him, sending stone fragments flying. Li Changjiang rolled rapidly, hit the ground, and tossed a grenade with its pin pulled back into the window he had just exited!

Boom!

A deafening blast erupted, and the shockwave and smoke spewed from the window. He heard a few screams, and by the time he rose again to dash toward the next building, there were no pursuers behind him.

"Boss, you okay?"

Tank’s voice came through his earpiece, right on time. The violent explosions and gunfire had made them break into a cold sweat for Li Changjiang. While the combat effectiveness of these Libyans wasn't particularly high, they were numerous. No matter how fast Li Changjiang’s shooting was, he couldn't withstand a massive assault by ten times his number in close-quarters combat.

"No. Are the British out yet? You must leave there immediately; Libyan reinforcements have arrived."

Li Changjiang’s tone was urgent. Through his scope, he could already see a large number of modified pickup trucks rushing toward the street corner in the distance.

"Damn it! Boss, try to cover us."

He cut the comms.

Old Mao and Tank charged out of the exit, tossing grenades to either side. There weren't many enemies left outside now, and they were being suppressed by Li Changjiang’s precision fire; essentially, anyone who poked their head out was instantly taken down.

The British agents who rushed out looked at the corpses on the ground with expressions of sheer horror. This kind of marksmanship was terrifying!

The bodies on the ground all shared a distinct feature: a single bloody hole in the center of their foreheads or skulls, leaking blood. While the sight was gruesome, the skill required to land those shots was even more shocking.

Hitting a target from a hundred meters away was far from being considered an elite sniper. With modern training and high-precision equipment, hitting a target at that distance was a basic skill for most soldiers in any military.

As the elite of the elite, these British agents’ marksmanship was even better; they could do it easily. But to be as precise as this—hitting almost the exact same spot on at least ten enemies—that was not something one could do easily.

It was equivalent to hitting the bullseye of ten moving targets from a hundred meters away, all in the same spot.

An ace!

At that moment, the same terrifying term flashed in everyone’s mind. But was such a shooter really just a mercenary?

It was hard to believe.

No country’s military would let an ace-level shooter leave, unless the commander of that army was a complete idiot.

"Is that sniper one of yours?" Will couldn't help but ask Keyboard and Angel standing beside him.

"Of course, that’s our boss!"

No one knew what Keyboard was feeling when he said those words, but Killer, who knew him extremely well, gave him an odd look.

"What’s his name?"

"Duke! The Hunter Duke!"

Li Changjiang didn't know that the big-mouthed Keyboard had bestowed the title of "Hunter" upon him, nor did he know that, following Keyboard’s introduction, Hunter Duke would become the most mysterious mercenary in the eyes of intelligence experts across the Western world.

Because at this moment, besides pulling the trigger, Li Changjiang’s nerves were already numb.

Bang!

He took down another enemy in his field of vision.

He rolled quickly behind another piece of cover and swapped in a new magazine. But by the time he climbed back up to aim, he had already missed his window of opportunity.

Over five pickup trucks and twenty Libyan militiamen had charged into view.

Damn it! Too late!

"Old Mao! Old Mao! What the hell!"

There was no response over the comms.

"Tank!"
"Tank!"

Still nothing!

Bang, bang!

A string of bullets suddenly tore through the air, and stone fragments flew. Li Changjiang quickly sensed something was wrong. What kind of caliber had that much power?

He looked at the defensive wall in front of him, which had been almost completely blown away; it was terrifying.

"Holy shit!"

It was an anti-aircraft machine gun!

How the hell did the Libyans have something like that? What the hell!

Peering through his scope at that terrifying weapon, Li Changjiang was stunned. One of those five pickup trucks had a 12.7mm anti-aircraft machine gun mounted in its bed. What the hell!

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump—

Like a small cannon, the large-caliber bullets pulverized the concrete barrier Li Changjiang was hiding behind, sending sand and debris splattering everywhere.

Li Changjiang curled his body into the furthest corner, unable to move. It was too terrifying!

"Boss!"
"Boss!"

"Damn it, we lost contact with the boss. Tank, you take them and charge out now. Killer, you come with me to support the boss."

Old Mao made a snap decision, immediately abandoning the British to charge toward the building diagonally opposite with Killer. But as the two of them emerged from the street corner, *thwip-thwip-thwip*, a string of bullets swept across, forcing them back.

"Fuck!"
"Damn it, it’s the Libyan reinforcements!"

"Tank! Get them out of here, the Libyans are closing in!"

On the other side, Tank and the British had already heard the gunfire. Aside from the dozen agents, the remaining British immediately followed Tim and the medic to break out toward the east.

"What the hell! Will, what are you doing?"

Seeing that Will and the other agents were staying put, Clark began to curse.

"Damn it, you’re supposed to be escorting us out of here."

"Shut up, Clark!"

"Are you all leaving?" Clark asked the other agents with sudden anger. No one spoke.

"If you want to leave, follow them. But I’m not leaving. I’m going to take those bastards out!"

*Click-clack!*

The sound of bolts being pulled echoed in unison. No one stepped down. Seeing this, Clark realized he couldn't change the situation, so he glared at Will and ran to catch up with the group ahead.

"Hey, we’re here to help!"

Rushing to behind Old Mao with a dozen agents, Will looked a bit awkward; after all, he had been one of the most hostile people toward this group of mercenaries.

But in the last ten minutes, the group before him had completely changed his view of mercenaries.

"Welcome to hell!"

"Tank, cover us!"

With that, Old Mao charged across the street.

Bang-bang-bang-bang—

At the same time, the German, Tank, set up the PKM he had bought from the Russians. The stuttering gunfire instantly created a dense wall of fire, suppressing the Libyans.