Counterfeit Hero

Chapter 106: Volume 3, Chapter 16: Who is the Victor

Hopkins was startled. The Federation also has experts skilled in disappearing stealth within thirty meters? No wonder the Leray Special Soldiers retreated just now. It seems they dispatched snipers they believed could counter him.

Hopkins sneered coldly. Bring it on, no matter how skilled a sniper who hasn’t been on the battlefield is, they’re still a rookie. Not to mention, the footsteps in the auditory device just now exposed the so-called experts’ true abilities.

Fatty lay in the grass, trying his best to blend with it. Simulated camouflage gear was not very effective at night, but it could protect him from being seen by infrared scopes. The hidden enemy was very calm; his attempt to stir the grass did not provoke a shot. That was his most extreme temptation. If he were any slower, he wouldn’t be able to evade the enemy’s attack.

The special soldiers were ordered to retreat. The sniper duel doesn’t need too many people; too many would be a hindrance. Fatty once worried that Hopkins might have left during the special soldiers’ retreat, but from the feeling just now, he knew the enemy hadn’t left and had almost pinpointed him.

It was an indescribable feeling, an exceedingly dangerous sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end!

This instinct of sensing danger is a skill every excellent sniper must possess. According to Bear Instructor, no matter what you call it—sixth sense, seventh sense, eighth sense, ninth sense—you must experience it in training and cultivate it! Idiots who can’t cultivate it might survive on the battlefield by sheer luck, but at a critical moment, it can save their lives!

Fatty knew that this instinct to sense danger was intuition! Bear Instructor was so damn uneducated!

The moment Fatty entered the grass, he could clearly feel those eyes tightly watching him! Like a snake with a red tongue, cold and dangerous.

Fatty’s trembling body calmed down after entering the forest, and his heartbeat dropped to the sniper’s necessary level. The fear faded; he kept reminding himself of his responsibility! In his eyes now, there was only the enemy! Find him, stall him, or kill him!

The vegetation in the academy’s back mountain was dense. Before the war broke out, the academy planned to develop a park here. Some paths were even constructed for several kilometers, but eventually stopped. The mountain wasn’t high but covered a wide area. There was a small river and several waterfalls, with clear water and beautiful scenery. The riverside had some flat grasslands where students often hid for dating and camping.

The academy was on the west side of the largest slope in the back mountain. To the south was Gallipalan City, and to the north were continuous mountain forests. The small river came from the northeast, flowed through a small lake on the east, then meandered through the mountain forest, jumping off several cliffs to form waterfalls, and finally bypassed the academy flowing southwest, curving through Gallipalan City into a larger river to the east.

The enemy kept moving northward. From the academy to here, his escape route pointed northeast. If he went further, it would be difficult to trap him.

Fatty gently arranged a signal with branches and stones. He needed to provoke this opponent. Through Russell’s explanation and his understanding of the area on the way here, Fatty could roughly guess the sniper’s psychology. Maybe his battlefield experience wasn’t as rich as this murderous opponent’s, but Fatty felt he had the psychological advantage. At times, psychological sniping solves problems better than bullets!

Until now, this sniper named Hopkins hadn’t made any mistakes out of anger. He was too calm, always maintaining a distance where he could disengage from combat at any time. Killing dozens of Federation soldiers seemed like a trivial task he did with ease.

To anger him, there was only one method—directly provoke what he values most, a sure hit!

Fatty almost crawled backward when the sound of a breaking branch betrayed him. Faster than a startled deer, Fatty jumped up almost the moment the sound echoed and began running wildly through the forest. Silent bullets hit where he had been lying, making a soft sound.

The breaking branch noise was caught by the auditory device; Hopkins almost instantly aimed at Fatty’s concealed spot and pulled the trigger. As the bullet penetrated the grass, Hopkins saw the special soldier signal made from stones and branches, nearly bursting his lungs with fury! The signal meant: ”Fuck you, rookie! Vibo Idiot!”

If given a few seconds to react, Hopkins would have reminded himself to stay calm and composed. That Leray Federation bastard was trying to anger him.

But it was too fast. When the first shot missed, Fatty’s figure flashed in the scope. Hopkins couldn’t suppress his emotions; the momentary anger made him pull the trigger for the second shot.

The second bullet scraped past Fatty’s shifting figure, hitting a large tree. This shot also exposed Hopkins’ hiding position!

Sure enough, Hopkins barely lowered his head when a bullet hit the rock in front of him with a crisp sound. Hopkins realized he couldn’t stay here any longer. If the enemy locked onto him, he’d be stuck waiting for other special soldiers to capture him like a caged chicken.

Desperately, Hopkins kicked the ground, rolled out of the dirt pile. When Fatty’s bullet made a hole in the dirt before him, he’d gained enough speed to dodge.

A mortal combat broke out in the forest. This is one of the two situations snipers fear most: being locked in a stationary position and killed upon any movement, not even knowing how they died. Or being locked in motion shooting at each other. No one dares to stop; stopping means death!

The two men shot at each other while running, using various objects for cover. Every tree, every rock was used. There was no stealth now; they were locked onto each other. Stopping means death; being hit first means death. No matter where they’re hit, slowing down just slightly leads to merciless sniper death!

Every excellent sniper is the most patient hunter. They can lie motionless in the snowy piles of ice and snow, withstand mosquito bites in the grass, and hide anywhere for days on end. They can break eating and drinking into countless unnoticeable actions. Whether or not they see the enemy with their eyes or intuition, they always adhere to the strictest stealth standards!

They are not afraid of ambushes! What they fear is this kind of mobile warfare! In a frontal war, thousands of bullets are exchanged for the life of an ordinary soldier, and most bullets are wasted on suppression and inaccurate shooting. For snipers, this is a complete waste; they kill with just one bullet! Therefore, their guns are not for squandering bullets in bursts; they use specialized sniper rifles that emphasize range and precision!

It is nearly impossible to have a duel with such a slow-shooting gun while in motion!

However, precise shooting while moving is a sniper’s trained skill. Especially for top snipers, they excel in this. Between these two constantly changing, irregular routes, the bullets are always closely following each other.

Fatty and Hopkins have already given their all. The erratic running exhausts them. No one can stay in an erratic movement state for long. Modern snipers have brains more precise than computers. They can judge the opponent’s movement pattern with just a glance at the environment while running! If the sniper is behind the opponent’s right and there is a big tree ahead to the left, the opponent cannot run to the tree first. The direction of his run also dictates that he cannot bypass the left side of the tree without stopping to turn around. Running toward the sniper’s barrel is even more impossible—it would be like standing still. His choices are few, and the options for erratic movement are even fewer! They can only use the time difference and rapid direction changes that consume a lot of energy to dodge effectively.

So, these two snipers shooting at each other while moving at high speed need to keep each other locked on and shooting, observe the surrounding environment to ensure they don’t run into a dead end, and continuously change direction, using erratic movements to evade each other’s bullets.

Hopkins could almost hear his opponent’s heavy breathing. He admired this Federation sniper a bit. To tangle with him for so long at such high-speed movement, Fatty was the first. And he was so fat!

What does being fat mean? It means his stamina is worse than Hopkins’s, his consumption is higher, and his willpower and control are not as good as Hopkins’s! Listening to Fatty’s heavy breathing, Hopkins smiled. In a few more minutes, this guy would inevitably die under his gun!

Fatty’s speed had slowed down, just a little, but Hopkins could still sense it. His shooting speed and accuracy were also deteriorating. In such a sniper duel, exhaustion means death!

But what surprised Hopkins was that although his opponent’s speed had slowed, his changes in direction became even more bizarre, as if he could always know which direction Hopkins would shoot at. Moreover, he deftly used big trees and shrubs for cover several times to dodge bullets and hide. Once, Hopkins almost lost him from sight!

”Bang.” Another bullet hit the grass in front of Fatty. If Fatty hadn’t slowed down a bit in his run, this bullet would have pierced his skull. Seeming unaffected by the shot, Fatty did a feint to the left followed by a roll backward. Another bullet grazed his body. He half-squatted and fired his Garand Rifle without aiming, but Hopkins was too fast. Just as Fatty fired, Hopkins had already dodged behind a tree. Fatty immediately moved horizontally to the right, firing at the tree while running. The bullets quickly penetrated the tree Hopkins hid behind. No one was there! Fatty’s instinct saved his life again. He dropped to the ground awkwardly, evading Hopkins’s stealth shot that came from the bushes. ”Pop” went the sound as a branch above Fatty’s head broke from a shot.

Fatty scrambled and crawled to the right, hunched like a plump shrimp. ”Bang!” ”Bang!” Bullets chased him, hitting nearby trees. Hopkins had the advantage now. Fatty could hardly shoot in that posture, finally finding some respite with a small hill. He pounced behind it like a tiger. Hopkins was misled; the J-2011 bullet was too early. Fatty’s pounce stopped in a strange position. Finally, he had a chance to shoot. A random shot made Hopkins roll away and lose his aiming stance. They entered another stalemate.

In the jungle, two figures kept running at high speed, dodging bullets. Tree trunks splintered, and leaves, like hit by hail, flew everywhere. Constantly dodging, shooting, running, and changing directions, they were like two tigers playing hide-and-seek, vanishing and appearing in the grass, behind trees, and in the shrubs!

Hopkins realized that Fatty had lost his mind. In their mutual shooting, they were not running toward the south where the Special Soldiers were retreating, nor west where it was easy to deploy an encircling force, but to the east. There was a lake before reaching which there was a not-too-high cliff. Though not high, it was enough to kill this confused Fatty!

If he didn’t jump, Hopkins would shoot him at the edge of the cliff with no place to hide. If he did jump, he would meet his end upon landing.

Listening to Fatty’s increasingly loud panting, seeing his slower reactions and decreasing shooting accuracy, Hopkins’s face showed a victor’s smile. He was becoming more and more composed. This Fatty couldn’t hold him off. In another minute, he would kill this most entertaining opponent and leave. There was plenty of time!

Fatty was struggling to maintain the duel with Hopkins, not allowing him an easy kill. Still, his movements were increasingly under Hopkins’s control, gradually pushing him toward the cliff.

Finally, pushed to the brink! Fatty didn’t give Hopkins the chance to kill him at the cliff’s edge; without hesitation, he jumped! Hopkins laughed, rushing over at full speed. The cliff was high enough that even if Fatty didn’t die from the fall, he couldn’t land unscathed. Hopkins only needed to leisurely stand at the cliff and send him off with a bullet!

Hopkins moved quickly, the joy of victory giving him a final burst of energy. Like lightning, he reached the cliff top, his J-2011 raised. Through his listening device, he seemed to hear Fatty hitting the ground!

Fatty moved even faster! Laughing to himself, he thought, damn, I finally lured you here. Now watch me handle you!

This bastard jumped straight into the open Logic’s cockpit. As the hatch closed, through the viewport, he saw Hopkins’s pale, shocked, and furious face!

*********

This Chapter is four thousand words, some progress at last.

Still asking for monthly tickets! Swing that whip! If you don’t have a whip, drip some wax!

(To be continued. For more Chapters, please visit WWW.CMFU.COM, support the author, and support legitimate reading!)