Before the enemy could react, a bullet struck him precisely in the head. His body jolted violently, as if hit by a sledgehammer. His hands, which had been shouldering the rocket launcher, dropped limply, and he collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Liang Song let out a long breath, his tightly wound nerves relaxing just a fraction.
Hardly had the words left his mouth when he caught a glimpse through the porthole of another blinding exhaust plume in the distance, striking toward the helicopter like the tongue of a venomous snake. It was a second rocket, hurtling forward with a destructive momentum.
Chapter 408