Strongest Soldier King

The truck chassis was high enough that even if the tires were blown out, hiding completely underneath it wasn't a problem for anyone. Monk took cover flawlessly, and bullets from both sides couldn't penetrate their shelter. He angrily clenched his fists as he watched the roaring machine guns in the distance, his face an iron blue. If it weren't for that machine gun, everyone would have already broken out of the encirclement. Hearing a noise, Monk turned his head to see Scholar, who was deftly rolling towards him.

"Give me the gun," Monk bellowed, his eyes nearly bursting into flames as he watched the still firing machine gun. He took the weapon passed by Scholar, immediately aimed at the gunner, focused his mind, gauged the distance, assessed the wind direction, and without any hesitation, he pulled the trigger. The bullet slid into the chamber with a crisp sound, then roared out, carrying Monk's furious rage, drawing a fierce trail in the void and ferociously taking down the machine gunner.

With a single headshot, Monk's chilly killing intent surged even more. Just as he was about to aim at other targets to continue shooting, he saw the machine gun fire up again. Enraged, he immediately redirected his gun towards the new gunner. The gunner seemed to have also noticed the person under the truck and began to shoot violently underneath it.

Due to the angle, dense bullets could only hit the ground, raising dust and sparks as they struck the truck. With fierce eyes, Monk aimed at the gunner again and decisively struck, another headshot, causing the machine gun to fall silent once more. After waiting a few seconds with no further movement from the gun, Monk surveyed the battlefield.

Everyone relied on the truck for a counter-attack, and the heavily armed enemies on both sides were suppressed, not daring to open fire recklessly. Those who occasionally poked their heads out were precisely taken out by others. But the threat was not eliminated; with the truck immobile and no cover from it, rushing out would mean certain death. Astonishingly, both sides reached a kind of equilibrium, unable to overcome the other.

Having already run to the hilltop, Luo Zheng saw this scene and breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to snipe at the enemy to break the equilibrium, he suddenly felt uneasy. A stabbing pain at the back of his head and an overwhelming sense of oppression came crashing down, startling him. He quickly rolled away. Seeing no imminent danger as he slowly raised his head, Luo Zheng's face drastically changed.

At a distance of five hundred meters, over two hundred people were vigorously charging forward, covering the hills and howling. Luo Zheng's face chilled, and he hurriedly observed through the sniper scope. They were members of the East Yi Yun. His heart sank into an icy pit, forgetting even to breathe. With over two hundred men about to enter the battlefield, those surrounded would be undoubtedly doomed.

"What to do?" Luo Zheng shouted internally, plagued by unwillingness, anger, and hesitation – a flood of emotions surged to his mind, his thoughts momentarily stagnant. With so many people, how could they fight this battle? Was today really the day they were going to die here? A wave of crushing oppression swept over him.

"Boom!" A loud explosion jolted Luo Zheng awake, feeling as though his entire body was soaked. Facing the enemies about to charge over, he gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing a devilish crimson. The veins on the arm holding the sniper rifle stood out, his expression icy as centuries-old ice which never thaw. With a resolved heart, he swiftly scanned the area, and soon, Luo Zheng spotted a person who looked like a leader, shouting something.

Capture the leader first to defeat the enemy, Luo Zheng took a deep breath, calming the negative emotions and firmly locking on the target. Focused, he aimed and shot. The bullet roared out of the chamber, carrying Luo Zheng's boundless anger and soaring killing intent, screaming towards the target and tracing a deadly trajectory in the void.

Through the sniper scope, Luo Zheng clearly saw a splash of enchanting red as the target fell to the ground, surrounded by a horde of people. A glint of joy emerged in his chilly eyes. Luo Zheng did not know nor needed to know the specific identity of the target. On the battlefield, the language of a sniper was bullets – angry bullets, roaring bullets.

The sniper's bullet cannot be silent. Luo Zheng once again locked onto a target, who looked like a small leader, about to shoot, when suddenly he spotted a member of the Yellow Race within his scope. Startled, Luo Zheng slightly lifted his gun, locking onto the target. The man had a tall build, short hair, and a resolute face, wearing a camo short-sleeved T-shirt, with thick arms full of bulging muscles, containing terrifying power.

Suddenly, Luo Zheng saw something on the man's neck. He adjusted the focus for a closer look – a wolf head tattoo. Surprised and then delighted, he raised his gun, aiming at the man's brow. After a thought, he lowered the gun, aiming at the man's heart. For such masters, the likelihood of hitting the heart was higher than the brow.

Seeing an enemy ignited fury. Luo Zheng calmed his breathing, aiming coolly, feeling the target's running speed and rhythm. With only three hundred meters left, there was no need to consider leading the target. There was little wind, and no need to account for it. Luo Zheng entered a transcendental state where his surroundings – gunfire, explosions, the howling enemies – seemed non-existent, his spirit fully fused with his rifle.

"Shoo!" Luo Zheng pulled the trigger. The bullet roared out of the barrel, carrying all of his spirit and strength, letting out an angry cry towards the target. Luo Zheng felt as though he had been emptied, lying motionless on the ground, his eyes tightly fixed on the target through the sniper scope.

All along, the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group had pressed down on Luo Zheng's heart like a mountain. Their formidable combat capabilities, bizarre tracking methods, and terrifying sniping skills made Luo Zheng cautious. This proactive attack, filled with endless expectations, ended when a cloud of blood-mist was stained red, prompting Luo Zheng to laugh. His energy surged, confidence soared, and his killing intent erupted anew.

"The Wild Wolf Mercenary Group is nothing special, come at me." Luo Zheng roared and shouted internally. Having shot down his target, the mental shadow dissolved, and Luo Zheng burst forth with unprecedented fighting spirit, decisively taking out two more enemies.

Any excellent sniper would never take two shots from the same spot. Defying convention, Luo Zheng saw enemy fire intensify, and the enemies themselves started changing direction, running towards him. He laughed and took off running, luring the enemy group away by exposing his position. With the tactic implemented, Luo Zheng naturally wasn't going to stupidly stay and wait for death.

Though Luo Zheng was uncertain about implementing this tactic, upon spotting the members of the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group, he knew that if he successfully made a shot, the group's vengeful nature would definitely provoke a pursuit and incite the East Yi Yun Members to follow as expendables.

Seeing the enemies howling and pouncing toward him, Luo Zheng knew he had succeeded and also understood that the identity of the hunted East Yi Yun leader was far from simple. Otherwise, the East Yi Yun Members wouldn't abandon dividing their forces for support, chasing him all at once. It seemed his luck was unusually good. As he madly sprinted away, a hint of bitterness surfaced on Luo Zheng's iron-calm face.