One person, one spear!

Upon seeing this chapter, I felt incredibly fortunate, as it was posted just last night, yet had been hidden until I only just discovered it today. I have to admit, I was moved to tears.

Pfft!

In the pitch-black silence of the night, bullets lose some accuracy as they travel through the air—especially with an SVD, which is by no means a top-tier sniper rifle. Yet, at less than two hundred meters, such a margin of error was negligible for Li Changjiang.

The sharp, sickening sound of a bullet tearing through flesh made one's scalp tingle.

Shock!

Even terror!

Bang!

Bang, bang!

Ratatatat! The sudden, concentrated gunfire instantly shattered the tranquility of the night.

Thud, thud!

"Sniper! Watch out!"

Guan Hu's instincts were razor-sharp. In almost the same instant, he registered the gunshot. The message to counterattack coursed through his nervous system and spread to every part of him.

Raise the rifle!

Take aim!

Pull the trigger! He moved as one seamless motion, and gunfire erupted around them. Two grenades flew out in quick succession, just as a burst of bullets came spraying from the upper left.

"Quick! Upper left!"

The Libyan insurgents on the other side were clearly losing control. The fierce fighting had made them realize their enemies were actually few in number, which prompted them to split up and try to encircle from both flanks. This meant that Guan Hu's team was now beset on three sides—a perilous situation.

Even more bizarrely, it seemed the Libyan rebels and government forces had entered an unspoken alliance. The rebels in Misrata's western district appeared to abandon their defense against the government and began sending reinforcements this way. The American troops on the other front were faring no better.

"Guan Hu, what’s the situation now?"

On the comms, the voice from home grew increasingly tense. The command center was alive with gunfire, the atmosphere as tense as if they stood on the battlefield themselves. The intensity of the combat far exceeded their expectations; this was nothing like a skirmish between amateurs.

"The enemy is splitting up and trying to surround us, but someone is helping us!"

He had barely finished speaking—

Whoosh!

Whoosh, whoosh!

Thud, thud, thud!

A string of muffled shots. In his line of sight, several Libyans who had just broken cover and rushed toward them suddenly erupted in sprays of blood from their heads—each felled by a single, perfect shot.

A master marksman!

"Sniper! Tiger Squad, someone is helping us!"

The Flying Tiger team members also noticed the mysterious shooter. As soon as Li Changjiang joined the fray, the pressure on Guan Hu’s group eased considerably. From his vantage point, Li Changjiang could use his automatic scope to scan every direction, able to suppress any attempt at a charge within two hundred meters.

The rebels were numerous, but the streets prevented them from spreading out their lines. At most, they could set up three to five firing points—and beyond a hundred meters, these points converged into a single direction. All Li Changjiang had to do was nudge his barrel and squeeze the trigger.

So, in no time at all—

Guan Hu and the entire Flying Tiger team realized that their firing positions met almost no resistance. With the danger of a counterattack neutralized, their special tactics began to show their true effect.

"Flank them from the left!"

"Lynx, keep an eye on their RPGs—we're going in!"

Guan Hu swiftly laid out new orders. In the command center, a wave of officers felt their blood surge at the sound of his voice.

The earlier assault had been sheer frustration. They were trained for infiltration and special operations, but against the Libyans’ headlong charges, neither tactics nor individual skill could shine. In the face of overwhelming numbers, even the best couldn't hold out for long.

But now that Li Changjiang was laying down suppressive fire, Guan Hu realized the opportunity at once. Instead of playing it safe, huddling behind cover, he responded with an aggressive tactical counterattack.

He said nothing aloud, but inwardly, he was astounded.

That mysterious sniper was terrifyingly precise. The rebels were picked off before their own bullets could even hit, each shot lethal, leaving no chance for follow-up.

The Flying Tigers advanced rapidly.

On the rooftop, Li Changjiang’s actions became almost mechanical. He emptied his magazine, snapped in a fresh one, took aim, and fired again. Spent casings piled up around him as he shifted shooting positions with practiced efficiency.

The rebels were no fools; they quickly worked out that the sniper was firing from the rooftops. Here, Li Changjiang’s prearranged decoy firing positions proved invaluable.

Only after several volleys did the rebels finally pinpoint his real location, but by then it was too late—the Flying Tigers had already closed in, making effective return fire impossible.

Thud!

After a few exchanges, Li Changjiang finally dispatched the enemy sniper lurking in the corner. With that threat eliminated, he fired with even greater abandon, sometimes loosing a dozen shots from the same spot before moving again.

Even Li Changjiang lost track of how many rounds he’d fired. Far from feeling fatigue, he found his sense of rhythm growing stronger. From aiming, to instantly calculating the point of impact, to squeezing the trigger—even knowing exactly how many shots were needed—all of it happened in a heartbeat. It was as if he had entered a mysterious, heightened state of awareness.

So, in the space of just a few minutes, or perhaps even less, Li Changjiang nearly expended all his ammunition. He was down to his last magazine.

Finally, the rebels began to retreat.

With the threat of encirclement lifted, Guan Hu immediately gathered his team and withdrew toward Li Changjiang’s position. For the Chinese soldiers, the doctrine of not pursuing a desperate enemy was paramount.

"Tiger Squad! What do we do now?"

"Break out immediately! There’s no time to lose—we go that way!"

Guan Hu unhesitatingly chose the direction where Li Changjiang had been firing. The mysterious sniper had utterly won his respect—not just his, but the entire Flying Tiger team’s. They all glanced toward Li Changjiang’s hiding place, then dashed that way at top speed.

The Libyans wouldn’t give them much time. Though the current assault had been crushed, another was sure to follow.

Thanks to their infrared scopes, they’d held the upper hand—but if dawn broke, that advantage would vanish.

There was no doubt: in that brief, furious counterattack, they had achieved a feat worthy of the annals of world military history—fewer than twenty men routing an enemy force twenty times their size or more, without a single casualty.

But Guan Hu and his team knew: the mysterious sniper was the true linchpin of their victory.

On the rooftop, after firing his last bullet, Li Changjiang reached for another round—only to find his hand grasping empty air.

Damn! Out of ammo!

He realized his predicament at once. Without hesitation, he grabbed his sniper rifle and pack, preparing to head downstairs. But as he rose, he staggered, nearly collapsing.

Hiss—

A sharp intake of breath. After so long prone and under such intense strain, his lower body had gone numb—he could barely stand at all.