The rain showed no sign of weakening.
Instead, as thunder rolled closer in the distance, it grew even more violent.
Rainwater ran down the edge of Rod’s forehead, traced over his oil-stained cheek, and finally slipped into his collar.
He had no time to wipe it away.
His body was pressed tightly against the slick trench wall.
The autogun in his hands was still hot, faint steam rising from around the barrel.
Rod did not turn back to look at Platoon Leader Karl beside him.
All his attention was focused ahead.
He had to watch the enemy’s movements, especially the movements of that Ork Boss.
He could not just sit here and wait for death!
Amid the storm of bullets, every time he raised his head was like dancing on the edge of Death’s scythe.
He took a deep breath.
Cold, damp air filled his lungs, forcing down his wildly pounding heart.
Taking advantage of a brief gap in the incoming fire, Rod suddenly leaned half his body out.
His gaze passed over the sandbags.
The scene ahead was suffocating.
Dozens of meters away, that massive Ork Boss was advancing with heavy steps.
Every footfall sent muddy water splashing high into the air.
In front of it, a group of Ork Boyz and Gretchin wielding crude choppas and pistols were driven forward by the Boss’s enormous body, shrieking and roaring as they pushed through what had originally been a dense net of fire.
The distance was shrinking.
Fifty meters…
Forty meters…
Rod quickly pulled back into cover, adjusted his breathing, and tapped his finger twice against the trigger guard.
He counted a few seconds.
Then he leaned out again.
This time, it was not to observe.
It was to hunt.
The muscle memory from [Autogun Shooting LV3] took over his body.
In that instant, the chaotic rain and the roars of the Orks seemed to fade into the background.
In Rod’s eyes, there was only the image of a green head lining up with his sight.
Rear notch, front sight, target.
Three points in a line.
Bang!
A crisp shot rang out.
The head of a Gretchin that was about to leap over a shell crater burst open, and its headless corpse plunged into the mud from its own momentum.
Rod did not pause.
The muzzle shifted slightly and locked onto the next target.
Bang!
Bang!
Two controlled shots.
Blood mist burst from the throat and chest of an Ork Boy.
It clutched its neck and fell backward.
With the support of [Autogun Shooting LV3], even in this brutal storm, the autogun in his hands could hit wherever he aimed.
Rod did not need to deliberately control the recoil.
Every kick was perfectly absorbed by his shoulder and arms, keeping the muzzle stuck at the height of the enemy’s vital points.
Even with only crude iron sights, he was now the god of death on this battlefield.
One green skull after another was cracked open.
The originally fierce follow-up troops fell into chaos once again.
Rod’s muzzle shifted toward another Ork Boy that was changing the magazine on its shoota.
Its movements were clumsy.
Its thick fingers pinched a magazine that was far too delicate for it.
A perfect opportunity.
Rod held his breath and gently squeezed the trigger.
Bang!
Flame spat from the muzzle.
The bullet tore through the rain and struck that bald green head with perfect precision.
Clang!
A crisp metallic impact rang out.
There was no expected spray of brain matter.
That bullet had actually lodged itself in the Ork’s thick skull, leaving only a broken fragment of lead and a wisp of smoke.
The Ork Boy swayed, then shook its head in anger.
It reached up with a rough hand, felt the bullet on its forehead, casually dug it out, and threw it onto the ground.
Rod’s eyes widened, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
What the hell…
Did it just roll a 6 on its armor save?
The Ork Boy also spotted Rod.
It opened its mouth, revealing jagged yellow teeth, waved the shoota in its hand, and roared in a broken-gong voice.
“Waaagh!
Damn humie!
Hidin’ behind dirt piles and shootin’ sneaky shots, iz dat all ya got?
Come out!
Fight me proper!
I’m gonna twist yer head off and kick it like a ball!”
Spit mixed with rainwater sprayed everywhere.
Rod stared at it expressionlessly and pulled the trigger again.
If one shot cannot pierce it, then I’ll use two.
Bang!
The second bullet followed immediately, drilling precisely into the same hole as the first.
This time, the hard skull could no longer withstand the impact.
The Ork Boy’s words cut off abruptly.
Half of its skull cap was blown clean off, and a red-and-white sludge splattered across the face of its companion behind it.
Its huge body fell into the mud with a splash.
Pale golden text flickered across Rod’s retina.
[Level Up!]
[Autogun Shooting LV4]
[Experience: 3/300]
That familiar strengthening sensation flowed through his entire body again.
Rod felt the gun in his hands grow even lighter, and his instinct for aiming became even sharper.
Damn, that feels good!
The experience bar is flying!
Just as he was about to continue harvesting these experience packs, a terrifying wave of sound suddenly exploded from the rear.
“WAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”
This was no longer the roar of an ordinary Ork.
It was like a steam whistle running at full power blasting beside his eardrums, carrying vibrations strong enough to shatter organs.
Rod felt a sharp pain in his eardrums, and his skull buzzed.
The water pooled in the trench rippled violently from the force of the roar.
The Ork Boss that had been steadily advancing had finally erupted.
With that war cry, the Ork Boyz and Gretchin that had been shrinking back because of casualties seemed as though they had been injected with a powerful stimulant.
The red glow in their eyes flared.
Their originally sluggish movements turned wildly violent, and whatever instinctive fear of death they had was completely thrown away.
“WAAAGH!!!”
All the Greenskins answered their Boss’s call.
They quickened their pace, charging madly through Rod’s fire net.
The Ork Boss was even more overwhelming.
It spread its legs, thick as tree stumps, and every step left a deep pit in the mud.
The two-handed chainaxe in its grip let out an ear-piercing roar.
Its teeth spun madly, thirsting to tear through flesh.
Rumble!
Rumble!
The shriek of the chainaxe merged with the rain, becoming the most terrifying death knell on the battlefield.
In the trench, several recruits’ legs had already started shaking uncontrollably.
The lasguns in their hands trembled like sieves, and some had even shut their eyes in despair.
Rod did not close his eyes.
He knew that if he flinched now, it would truly be over.
He forced himself to calm down, locking his eyes on that massive figure.
A boss, huh?
Then elites are exactly what I’m here to kill!
He took a deep breath, braced the stock tightly against his shoulder, and adjusted the muzzle with the Ork Boss’s movement.
Target, head.
More precisely, the narrow eye slit exposed beneath that crude, heavy helmet.
That was its only weak point.
Distance, thirty meters.
Rod held his breath, focused, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet left the barrel.
His LV4 shooting skill made this shot terrifyingly precise.
The bullet ripped through the rain, flying straight toward that narrow slit.
However, at the very instant the bullet was about to drill into the eye socket…
An invisible ripple seemed to pulse through the air.
The bullet looked as if it had struck a slick film of oil, and its trajectory shifted in a strange, subtle way.
Tss!
The bullet scraped past the eye socket and struck the Ork Boss’s cheek, tearing away a chunk of green flesh.
The Ork Boss violently shook its head.
That minor wound not only failed to make it retreat, but completely enraged it instead.
It let out an even more deafening roar.
The red light in its eyes almost spilled out, and its steps quickened again as it charged over like an out-of-control tank.
Rod stared in disbelief.
There really is a WAAAGH field?
So this is what happens when “I reckon I can block it” actually lets them block it?
That makes no damn sense!
He refused to believe it and pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three consecutive shots.
Every shot was aimed precisely at a vital point, but every shot was deflected, slid away, or left only a white mark on the thick armor at the final moment by that invisible field.
Ordinary autogun rounds forged from common metal simply could not pierce the defense of this monster brimming with psychic reinforcement.
A deep sense of powerlessness surged in Rod’s heart.
This dungeon is too high-level.
I can’t deal damage…
Just as Rod was about to draw his combat knife and at least die like a man, something heavy and cold made of metal was suddenly shoved into his hands.
“Use this!
This one hits harder!”
Platoon Leader Karl’s voice rang beside his ear.
Rod lowered his head.
What entered his sight was a weapon with a broad body covered in heat vents and cables.
At the center of the weapon, the core was glowing with a faint blue light.
A plasma gun.
One of the pinnacles of the Imperial Guard’s portable firepower.
And also a famous “self-destruct” divine artifact.
Rod’s hands trembled.
Overheat warning!
If this thing exploded, the gun might still be intact, but the man holding it definitely would not be.
By instinct, he wanted to push it back and explain that he was just a beginner who played with autoguns.
He had never invested any points into the plasma weapon talent tree.
But when he raised his head, he saw Platoon Leader Karl’s bloodshot eyes.
That gaze was filled with expectation, trust, and the guilt of helplessness.
It was also the look of someone entrusting their final hope to the only person they could rely on.
Then Rod looked ahead.
The Ork Boss had already charged within twenty meters.
The roar of its chainaxe was almost scraping against his face.
There was no choice.
Either get chopped into meat paste by the Greenskin, or gamble that this gun would not blow up in his hands.
Rod gritted his teeth and took the weapon, which was as heavy as an anvil.
He turned and rested the thick barrel on the wet sandbags along the trench’s edge.
With the stock against his shoulder, the heavy, solid feel gave him a tiny bit of reassurance.
There was no scope.
He could only rely on iron sights.
His finger found the trigger, which was far heavier than the one on the autogun.
He pulled it.
Bzzzz!
The gun body jolted violently, then began to tremble.
A teeth-aching charging sound rang out, as if a raging beast were waking up inside the chamber.
The blue light at the core flared instantly, changing from dim blue to a dazzling blazing white.
Rainwater fell onto the weapon’s body and instantly evaporated from the heat, sending up clouds of white steam.
The heat could be felt from a distance.
What he held in his hands did not feel like a gun, but a tiny sun on the verge of exploding.
The light grew brighter and brighter, even outshining the lightning in the sky and illuminating several meters of the trench as clearly as daylight.
Rod narrowed his eyes, looked at that abnormally bright blue glow, and felt his heart drop.
Damn it.
I think it’s a little too bright!