We offered you a summer job, but you went and became a mercenary?

The earth began to tremble slightly.

Suddenly, a modified pickup truck crashed through the wall of the mud-brick house and roared out amidst a cloud of dust.

The heavy machine gun mounted on the roof of the vehicle turned its muzzle and immediately locked onto the low wall where Lin Ye was hiding.

Da da da da!

Flames spewed out even more violently than before, and the metal storm formed by the large-caliber bullets instantly covered the area.

Bullets pelted the low wall where he was hiding like hail, sending sand and gravel flying and causing the earth to crumble.

Lin Ye was pinned against the wall, unable to even lift his head.

Gravel kept splattering onto his face and arms. Although he had the constitution of the [Basic Super Serum], the impact was like a tickle to him, but the feeling of being passively beaten made him extremely unhappy.

The pickup truck was clearly coming for him.

The driver was very skilled, and the car swerved on the sand, making it impossible for Lin Ye to lock onto it.

The machine gunner on the roof was an expert, constantly adjusting his position during the intervals between shots, creating an impenetrable barrage of fire.

Lin Ye frowned.

Taking advantage of a brief lull in the machine gun fire, he quickly peeked out and surveyed the entire battlefield.

The scene before my eyes was one of utter chaos.

The dozen or so unlucky guys who were charging alongside him just moments ago are now motionless, mangled pieces of flesh in the sand; not a single intact corpse can be found.

On the entire battlefield, apart from the Blood Fox veteran watching from afar and the crazy pickup truck in front of him, he was the only living person left.

Lin-Ye's face instantly darkened.

Damn it, they're all dead?

The first thought that popped into his mind was neither the relief of surviving the ordeal nor the regret for the death of his companion.

It is a worker's most basic worry.

Everyone's dead, so who's going to vouch for me that I was there?

What if those Blood Fox people try to renege on their debts and accuse me of absenteeism?

Then all that gunfire I endured tonight was for nothing?

Thinking of this, Lin Ye's anger was hotter than the barrel of that heavy machine gun.

No!

To earn the subsidy and the daily wage of $10,000, I can't slack off anymore!

These Black Mamba bastards not only delayed his departure from get off work, but also wanted to make him work for nothing today. This was worse than being killed.

A resolute glint flashed in Lin Ye's eyes.

With a thought, he directly took out two AK magazines fully loaded with bullets from the [Unlimited Spare Ammunition Depot].

With a click, he replaced the empty magazine in his hand with a brand new, full magazine and pushed it into the chamber.

He casually stuffed the other magazine into the pocket of his shorts, making it bulge.

He took a deep breath, crouched down behind the low wall, his body taut like a fully drawn bow.

The terrifying computational ability brought by the [Max Level Gun Mastery] was running wildly in his brain.

The serpentine movement of the pickup truck, the sweeping pattern of the heavy machine gun, the coefficient of friction of the sand, the effect of wind speed...

And... the gaps between the gunman changing ammunition belts.

Lin Ye's ears twitched slightly, trying to detect the subtle changes in the roar of the heavy machine gun.

It's now!

The machine gun fire paused for 0.3 seconds, the instant the gunner was pulling the next ammunition belt.

Lin Ye made a move.

He leaped out from behind the low wall like a cheetah, his flip-flops kicking a deep hole in the sand.

The instant his body leaped into the air, he twisted forcefully in a posture incomprehensible to ordinary people, unleashing the power of his waist and abdomen, allowing him to steady the AK in his hand as he faced the high-speed moving pickup truck.

Time seemed to slow down at that moment.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Three crisp, short bursts of fire, each with a deadly rhythm.

Three bullets pierced the cracked windshield of the pickup truck at an extremely tricky angle.

The driver, who was frantically turning the steering wheel, suddenly froze.

His head exploded like a watermelon hit by a heavy hammer, splattering red and white matter all over the driver's cab.

Squeak—Boom!

The out-of-control pickup truck left a long tire track in the sand, then lurched to one side and rolled heavily to the ground with a screeching metallic screech.

The machine gunner on the roof let out a terrified scream, thrown off the roof by the enormous inertia. After tumbling several times in the air, he crashed onto the sand a dozen meters away like a broken sack, his neck snapped at an odd angle, and he fell silent on the spot.

The entire battlefield instantly fell into a deathly silence.

Lin Ye's body traced a perfect parabola in the air before landing steadily on his feet.

He straightened up, glanced down, then lifted his foot and slowly patted the sand off his flip-flops.

After doing all this, he raised his head and looked at the core area of ​​several brightly lit, more structurally complete adobe houses not far away.

That's where the Black Mamba's stronghold is located.

Lin Ye carried the still-warm AK and walked step by step toward the gate of the stronghold.

"Since no one's taking attendance for me," he muttered to himself, his voice unusually clear in the quiet night wind, "then I'll kill you all, take your heads back to the boss to settle the bill!"

On the sand dunes two kilometers away.

The one-eyed officer "Butcher" and a group of Blood Fox veterans were staring intently at the lone figure heading towards the enemy camp through night vision goggles.

The air seemed to freeze.

"What...what does he want to do? Rush in alone?" The adjutant's voice trembled, feeling as if his worldview had been violently shaken.

The butcher didn't speak, but the veins on the back of his hand, which was gripping the night vision goggles, bulged out.

madman.

This kid is an absolute madman!

Lin Ye didn't care what the people behind him thought.

He carried the AK, his flip-flops making soft "pat-pat" sounds on the sand, and walked unhurriedly toward the brightly lit gate of the stronghold.

His relaxed demeanor was more provocative than a fully armed special forces unit sneaking up on him.

"Waaaaah!"

Amidst the watchtower of the outpost, a piercing alarm suddenly shattered the night sky.

The Black Mamba militant on lookout rubbed his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating.

What did he see?

An Asian boy wearing baggy shorts and flip-flops was walking towards them as if he were taking an after-dinner stroll.

"Enemy attack! There's... there's someone!" the sentry stammered over the walkie-talkie.

Splash!

A dozen or so militants, just awakened by the gunfire, peeked out from behind their various bunkers, cursing and swearing.

When they saw what the invading enemy looked like, everyone was stunned.