Chapter Thirty-One: The Sparrow Waits Behind—Eliminating the Expert!

“How did you discover me?” The sniper looked at Qin Feng, eyes brimming with confusion.

“Perhaps I was just a bit luckier. As for the rest, I can’t say,” Qin Feng replied.

“Luck is also a part of skill,” the sniper said, his eyes now filled with admiration. “You are a true master of the sniper’s art.”

He genuinely believed that Qin Feng’s marksmanship far surpassed his own, by many times over. Qin Feng’s victory wasn’t simply a matter of luck. He understood that Qin Feng’s skill was formidable—he himself had concealed his presence deeply, yet Qin Feng had still found him, struck him, and ultimately eliminated him.

“Perhaps,” Qin Feng said. After collecting the sniper’s ammunition, he turned and swiftly vanished into the depths of the forest.

Time slipped by; night fell and passed quietly.

The next morning, Qin Feng rose early. After a simple meal, he moved quickly through the woods.

“Just two days left. I must be careful if I want to pass the selection and stay on to become a special forces soldier,” he thought, treading cautiously through the underbrush.

The morning was much like the day before—fierce fighting erupted once again. Perhaps because so many competitors remained, gunfire echoed through the forest, dense and unrelenting, filling the air with the terrifying aura of battle.

Qin Feng remained hidden, emerging only when absolutely necessary. If he couldn’t avoid confrontation, he fought with ferocity, eliminating his opponents.

Gradually, after nearly ninety hours, the gunshots began to fade. Over an hour passed with barely a sound—an unusual quiet settled over the jungle.

Meanwhile, in the command center of the Fierce Tiger Special Operations Battalion, the captain and his lieutenant watched the monitors closely. Fewer than a hundred contestants remained in the forest; what was left was a war of attrition. Only the strongest would prevail.

The Fierce Tiger Battalion sought only the strongest.

Qin Feng moved swiftly through the jungle, never lingering in one place for more than half an hour. Staying too long in any spot might invite danger or elimination. Extreme caution was required to survive.

As sunset fell and darkness enveloped the forest, a chilly wind swept through. Without the sun, the temperature quickly dropped, and a biting cold crept in. Everyone hid carefully, hunger gnawing at them. Many had spent the entire day fighting, with no time to seek food. Now, under the cover of night, they were forced to scavenge.

Unlike the others, Qin Feng did not engage in reckless combat. He understood that survival—not battle—was the key to passing the jungle assessment. Most of the time, he remained concealed, searching for food only when necessary. This allowed him to preserve his strength and stay alert.

One evening, as he hid behind a massive tree, preparing to forage, he suddenly saw a shadow flicker past. It seemed almost a trick of the eyes, but Qin Feng trusted his instincts; he was certain someone had just darted by. Having grown up in the wild, his vision was sharper and his senses keener than most.

A faint footstep followed. Instantly, Qin Feng was on high alert, pressing closer to the tree and focusing all his attention. He knew that the slightest misstep in this survival assessment could lead to elimination.

“So, there’s an expert lurking nearby, trying to take me out. I won’t let him succeed,” Qin Feng thought, a glint of cold sharpness flashing in his eyes. He gripped his Model 88 sniper rifle tightly, regulating his breathing to silence, blending into the forest as if he were part of it. The breeze rustled the leaves, but otherwise, all was still.

But Qin Feng was convinced the enemy was near. He had glimpsed the figure and would not be caught off guard. He steeled himself for a fight, determined to turn the tables.

Soon, another faint sound caught his ear—so light it was almost lost in the rustling leaves. The intruder was skilled, nearly silent, but Qin Feng’s exceptional hearing picked it up.

After a long while, the footsteps ceased. Had the enemy vanished? Was he still close by?

No, the enemy lingered nearby, hidden with great skill and moving almost soundlessly. Qin Feng’s instincts screamed of danger—he felt it in the air. This intuition had often saved him in the past.

About three minutes passed before Qin Feng caught the faint footsteps once again. Each step was synchronized with the wind, nearly impossible to detect. Only Qin Feng’s extraordinary hearing caught it.

Ears pricked, he listened intently as the footsteps drew nearer.

“I’m going to take you down!” Suddenly, an angry shout split the silence, followed by a sharp gunshot.

Qin Feng tensed immediately, but the shot wasn’t aimed at him. Peering from his cover, he saw a plume of white smoke rise as another competitor was eliminated.

“So, it was you.” Qin Feng finally saw the man with the whisper-light steps, approaching the fallen opponent with his sniper rifle—clearly coming to claim his spoils.

Without hesitation, Qin Feng took aim. He concealed all trace of killing intent, knowing that a true expert could sense it and react in advance. He glanced at the nearby undergrowth, calculated the humidity and wind speed for the shot, then released his energy like an unsheathed sword and pulled the trigger without mercy.

Bang! The gunshot rang out, and another plume of white smoke curled into the air. Qin Feng had eliminated the expert.

“This is impossible,” the man muttered in disbelief as he was taken out.

“Never expected the mantis stalking the cicada to be caught by the oriole,” he murmured, realizing Qin Feng was a true master.

Afterward, Qin Feng melted back into the depths of the forest. He didn’t know if other enemies lurked nearby—perhaps, after the oriole, a hunter was waiting in the shadows. The farther he moved from the scene of battle, the safer he would be.