Chapter Thirty: Encountering a Master Sniper!

Time crept by; an hour slipped away, and night descended. The sky darkened, engulfing the entire jungle in shadow. The surroundings became pitch black—so much so that without keen eyesight, it was nearly impossible to move through the forest.

Qin Feng reached a dense thicket. Just as he was about to press on, a sudden wave of dread washed over him—a sensation so sharp it felt as if a needle had pierced his brow, leaving him acutely uncomfortable and startled. Without hesitation, he dove behind a nearby mound of earth.

A sharp “whizz!”—a sniper’s bullet tore through the air, striking the spot where he had stood only moments before. The bullet’s speed was incredible, gouging a small pit into the tree behind his previous position.

“A sniper’s bullet.” Qin Feng’s expression changed drastically. It was fortunate that his instincts had warned him in time; otherwise, he would have been struck—and in this assessment, that would have meant elimination.

“This is the work of a sniper expert.” Qin Feng realized that the marksman hidden in the darkness was no ordinary opponent. He dared not make a reckless move, remaining carefully concealed behind the mound, scrutinizing his surroundings in an attempt to determine the direction from which the shot had been fired. Only by pinpointing the sniper’s position could he eliminate his adversary.

Yet, to his dismay, the only sounds were those of the wind. No matter how he searched, he could not discern where the enemy lay in wait, and his situation grew ever more perilous.

“It is clear now—the enemy is indeed a master sniper, concealed with such skill, and judging by his tactics, he’s moving after every shot.” Qin Feng’s mind raced. The enemy was calm and methodical, never remaining in the same place, and never allowing himself to fall into danger.

“I’ll find you.” Qin Feng’s gaze sharpened with resolve. He knew how deadly a silent sniper could be: on the battlefield, you never know when you’re in a marksman’s scope, or when he’ll pull the trigger.

But Qin Feng’s goal was to become a special forces soldier. He told himself he would not be eliminated; he had to survive. A glint of determination flashed in his eyes as he considered his options, searching for a solution.

After a moment, an idea struck him.

He took off his helmet and hurled it out.

A “whiz—clang!” The helmet was instantly struck, sent tumbling away with a muffled blow.

“What speed!” Qin Feng was inwardly alarmed. Even though he had thrown the helmet with all his speed, the sniper had reacted instantly, firing and striking the airborne target.

“A true expert.” Qin Feng now had an even deeper understanding of his adversary. If he exposed himself recklessly, he would certainly be shot down and eliminated.

“Stay calm. Stay calm. Think.” Qin Feng reminded himself to remain composed. He took a slow breath, suppressing his anxiety, and let his mind search swiftly for a solution. He had to find the sniper, or he would never have a chance to strike back.

He peered outside. The forest remained silent; no trace of the sniper could be seen.

“Let’s see if I can flush him out.” After a brief deliberation, Qin Feng decided to risk everything to lure his opponent into the open. Determination hardened his features. Gritting his teeth, he sprang up and bolted forward at lightning speed, his movements as swift as a streak of lightning. Though the ground was slick from recent rain, he ran with agility, his speed astonishing. In this perilous moment, his potential surged forth. He covered over ten meters in a breath, then rolled to the ground, bounced up, sprinted another three or four meters, veered sharply to the right, and dove behind another mound.

Though it sounds drawn out, all of this took place in a single instant.

A flurry of “whizzing” shots—three sniper bullets tore through the air, striking along the path he had just run. Had he been only half a second slower, he would have been hit.

“At last, I’ve found you.” Qin Feng fixed his gaze in the direction from which the shots had come. “So that’s where you’re hiding.” He saw his adversary concealed atop a mound in the high jungle. The sniper shifted position quickly, but not so quickly that Qin Feng lost sight of him.

“You’ve hunted me long enough. Now it’s my turn.” Qin Feng vowed silently. He quietly extended his sniper rifle, peering through the scope at his target. All trace of killing intent vanished from his presence. He knew the enemy was a master marksman—he had to be wary. Even the faintest sense of threat might alert his foe, prompting him to dodge, and then the chance for a clean shot would be lost.

He glanced at the grass nearby, calculated the effects of humidity and wind on his shot. In that instant, the killing aura that he had suppressed erupted—a blade drawn from its sheath, transforming the atmosphere around him into one charged with lethal tension. Without hesitation, Qin Feng squeezed the trigger.

Three bullets shot forth in a triangular pattern, hurtling straight toward the sniper’s perch, howling as they shredded the air.

But just then, Qin Feng realized his opponent had also fired, as though he’d sensed Qin Feng’s position.

He quickly dove away, taking cover behind another mound. The enemy’s bullet struck the spot where he’d just hidden, sending earth flying.

“Damn it!” An angry voice rang out. Qin Feng looked over and saw a plume of white smoke rising. The sniper had been eliminated. Relief and elation washed over Qin Feng—he had done it. If he hadn’t, it would have been him who was eliminated. Such is the nature of jungle survival: only the strong survive to become special forces soldiers.

“Sorry to see you go—but your sniper bullets are mine now.” Qin Feng approached the eliminated sniper, relieved him of his ammunition. Ammunition was precious in the jungle; only with plenty of sniper rounds could he continue to fight and survive. Only then would he have a chance to become a true special forces soldier.