015 Toy Gun!

“Liu Bo! Meng Yao!”
“Wang Hai!”
“Son of a bitch, Xu Jian, you’re alive too!”
“Haha, I can’t believe you’re all alive!”
Liu Bo was wild with joy.
He had spotted two of his missing colleagues among this group of Chinese.
“How did you manage to escape?”
“God, I was scared to death! I swear I’ll never come to Libya again, not in this lifetime! I almost lost my life here.”
“What about Yuan Hao?”
Liu Bo suddenly asked.
Wang Hai and Xu Jian immediately fell silent, then pointed behind them at a grass-green woven bag they’d found on the road. Now, it lay quietly on the ground, shrouding a corpse.
Liu Bo’s excitement froze on his face, and he was suddenly at a loss for words.
They had come as five.
In the blink of an eye, only four remained.
“You two must be Liu Bo and Meng Yao?”
Li Xiaomao suddenly asked from behind.
“That’s right, I’m Liu Bo and this is Meng Yao. We’re both from Huaxin News Agency. And you are?”
“I’m Second Lieutenant Li Xiaomao of the Southern Military District Marine Corps. You two were also part of our mission to stay behind in Libya. Now that we’ve found you, only Li Lin and Li Changjiang are left.”
“What? Li Changjiang?”
“Li Changjiang?”
Liu Bo and Meng Yao spoke almost in unison.
“You know him?”
Know him? That was an understatement. At the mention of Li Changjiang, both their expressions turned somber.
“He was the one who rescued us. But when I told him there were still Chinese people left in Benghazi, he went back to save them. Didn’t you see him?”
To save others?
Everyone, including Li Xiaomao, was dumbfounded.
They glanced at each other, seeing disbelief in each other’s eyes.
“That expert—could it be him?”
“It’s possible!”
“You’ve seen him? Tell me, where is he now? Is he alright?”
Meng Yao suddenly grabbed Li Xiaomao’s arm, firing off a barrage of questions.
“Here’s what happened—”
Li Xiaomao didn’t hold anything back and recounted everything.
“So, someone rescued you, but you never saw him? I’m telling you now, it must have been Li Changjiang. He went back carrying two rifles and, oh, a sniper rifle too. I can’t recognize them, but if what you’re saying is true, it has to be him.
He’s a remarkable shot. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have made it out.”

Li Xiaomao and his comrades exchanged glances, eyes full of shock. Liu Bo didn’t know Li Changjiang’s real identity, but they did.
The embassy’s list was clear: both Li Changjiang and his father Li Lin were listed as workers, in Libya for labor.
Li Changjiang had failed the college entrance exam last year and had never served in the military, let alone received firearms training. But according to Liu Bo and the young woman Meng Yao, he was nothing short of a sharpshooter.
But could this be true?
It wasn’t just Li Xiaomao who doubted it; the others were just as incredulous.
“You’re sure it was Li Changjiang?”
“I’m sure! Absolutely!”
“I’m sure too!”
Liu Bo and Meng Yao nodded emphatically.
“If it was Li Changjiang who saved us, he’s probably with the captain now. We have to go back and support them.”
Li Xiaomao quickly made his decision.
But the situation was far from optimistic.
The rebel squad had taken over this checkpoint, and the main rebel force could soon attack Tripoli. If that happened, things would get dangerous.
“Yang Sheng, go with Director Hao and protect them. Teng Fei, you’re with me.”
“I’m coming too. Take me with you!”
Liu Bo suddenly stood up.
Li Xiaomao was taken aback, glancing at Liu Bo’s bedraggled state, but his gaze was steady and resolute—he wasn’t joking.
“Can you shoot?”
“I can. I’ve taken down Libyan rebels before.”
Liu Bo’s response made Li Xiaomao’s eyes light up.
“Then you’re with us. Let’s move!”
The three of them slipped around the back of the bus, making their way toward the convoy by the roadside.

Rumble, rumble, rumble—
“Hurry, get in!”
Once they were in, Li Xiaomao slammed the accelerator. The vehicle shot backward, raising a cloud of dust, and quickly disappeared from sight.
Meng Yao pressed her lips together, wanting to say something to Liu Bo, but even as he vanished, she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Rat-a-tat-tat!
Bang, bang, bang!
The fighting up ahead continued. Hao Bing and the others clearly had no intention of charging out. This was Libya’s internal conflict—though they had a mission, they dared not intervene recklessly.
If anything unexpected happened, regret would be too late. For now, all they could do was wait.

Along the endless highway,
The sun was already high. The three of them had parched, cracked lips, and no one spoke a word.
Tian Weiliang and Yang Jianyong had already switched driving shifts twice. Li Changjiang couldn’t drive.
“Changjiang, are you interested in joining the military?”
After a long silence,
Yang Jianyong suddenly spoke.

But Li Changjiang seemed not to hear. Several minutes passed before he finally replied,
“I just want to find my father.”
“That’s not a problem. I mean, after you find him.”
“Fine. But if I join, it’ll be to the special forces—not as a regular conscript.”
Screech!
The vehicle jerked abruptly.
“Tian Weiliang, what are you doing?”
“It’s nothing, Captain, just slipped.”
Slipped? What a poor excuse.
In fact, he’d been startled by Li Changjiang’s words.
Special forces?
He’d been enlisted four years and never heard of anyone being recruited straight into the special forces. Every time there was a selection, the whole unit was in a frenzy, everyone scrambling for a chance, afraid they’d miss out.
This kid!
Damn, he didn’t even hesitate to demand special forces.
They were part of the Southern Military District Marine Corps Special Reserve. Even so, getting into the district’s special operations team was incredibly difficult.
Truly the fearlessness of the ignorant.
But what surprised him even more was that Yang Jianyong agreed.
“Alright. As long as you’re willing to join the military, I’ll recommend you to the higher-ups. You’re only nineteen, right?”
“A few months short.”
He gave a soft hum.
Nineteen—so young, the prime age for training. And Li Changjiang’s marksmanship and composure were outstanding. He was a promising prospect.
“Have you ever had shooting training?”
“No.”
“Then who taught you to shoot?”
Yang Jianyong was intensely curious. From what he’d seen, Li Changjiang’s marksmanship was at the level of a precision shooter. That took tens of thousands of rounds to master. Even he himself had only just reached that level.
“No one taught me. If it counts, I’ve fired guns before.”
Li Changjiang had indeed played—not just played, but was an expert. Otherwise, that strange aiming system wouldn’t have assessed him as having a ten-meter effective shooting range.
But hearing this,
Yang Jianyong was utterly stunned.
What?
Toy guns?
Did those even count as real guns?

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