Twenty-four hours later—
Deep within the vast, dense primeval forest of the Longli Mountain region of the Republic of Suman.
The moonlight was completely blocked by the thick canopy; the hoarse cries of night owls mingled with the distant roars of wild beasts carried on the mountain wind, and a faint, metallic tang hung in the air.
It was the scent of blood mixing with rotting leaves and deadwood.
In the pitch black thicket, Wen Shuyu snapped his hands together with force. A crisp, loud crack—the sound of a neck bone dislocating—echoed out, and the man in his grasp slumped limply to the ground.
Number two. Wen Shuyu panted, counting silently to himself.
He swiftly stripped the tactical gear from the body and retrieved the man’s gun from the undergrowth.
A Remington M40[1]The M40 is the USMC’s adoption of the Remington 700 in 7.62 NATO, with a short action receiver (meaning it’s only long enough for 7.62 NATO and similar length rounds). It originally had a wood … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3362107_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3362107_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });?
Wen Shuyu couldn’t help but cast a glance—filled with both gratitude and pity—at the ‘friend’ who had traveled so far just to deliver this gear to him.
Slinging the rifle over his shoulder and clutching the fully loaded tactical gear belt to his chest, he headed back to their hideout.
Aided by military grade low light night vision goggles, Wen Shuyu moved agilely and smoothly through the woods, deftly navigating the tangle of deadwood and roots on the forest floor and vaulting over a massive fallen log.
On the other side of the trunk, Pei Jiangchen lay in the grass, still unconscious and burning with a high fever.
Wen Shuyu checked his tactical watch, pressed his fingers against Pei Jiangchen’s carotid artery for a moment, and then leaned down to examine the wound on his left leg.
A night owl let out an eerie cry, sounding like a dutiful harbinger of doom.
Wen Shuyu looked up alertly, crouching low, and peered through his night vision scope.
In the dense jungle, about fifty or sixty meters to the southwest, strange shadows were shifting.
Two… no, three of them!
The opposition had clearly spared no expense; they were determined to capture Pei Jiangchen.
“Old Song, you piece of shit—you lowlife not even a dog would fuck!” Wen Shuyu muttered in his native tongue as he expertly checked his sniper rifle’s magazine and strapped on the tactical gear belt. “They really knew how to sweet talk me into this mess back then… claiming I’d just have to cook and carry a bag, stay out of the sun and rain, and live the high life alongside the Young Master—saying I could retire after just this one job… Damn it, I haven’t even been on the clock for four months, and I’ve already been used as a human target and jabbed with needles… and now here I am, chased through the deep woods like a wild boar…”
Birds fluttered away from the branches as Wen Shuyu chambered a round with a sharp click and rested his sniper rifle against the tree trunk.
Through the night vision red dot sight, a wavering point of light was drawing closer. The man he’d fought earlier had radioed for backup before the clash, and now his partner had tracked him down.
Under the cover of darkness, Wen Shuyu shed all his pretenses.
His gaze was sharp and piercing, radiating a lethal intent tempered by the composure and grim focus expected of an elite young operative.
Wen Shuyu cast a quick glance at the still unconscious Pei Jiangchen, then trained his sights on a blurred figure in the distance and pulled the trigger.
Whoosh—
Six hours earlier
Amidst thunderous applause and cheers, Pei Jiashen stepped gracefully off the podium and embraced his wife, who was waiting nearby.
The second speech of the day had concluded successfully; next came the time for the candidate to mingle with the voters.
The campaign team and local volunteers had organized a series of simple games, and with an unlimited supply of cola and muffins, the middle school football field had transformed into a makeshift playground.
The children and their laughter created a heartwarming atmosphere; were it not for the campaign banners, one would hardly catch a whiff of politics.
Amidst the bustle, the young female student volunteers couldn’t help but steal glances at the tall young man who was handing out cake and balloons to the children.
Pei Jiangchen was wearing a shirt emblazoned with the campaign logo and a baseball cap, sporting a smile so perfect it could have starred in an electric toothbrush commercial.
Under the brilliant autumn sun, that smile was so dazzling it made Wen Shuyu’s eyes sting. Those unfamiliar with Pei Jiangchen might mistake that smile for the mark of a cheerful, easygoing young man. However, the close attendants who served him personally—such as Wen Shuyu—knew exactly how little substance lay behind that smile.
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