Leitao's combat boots crushed the semi-dried blood scabs in the 1938 jungle, where fragments of Japanese Army steel helmets were scattered sporadically among the piles of rotting leaves. The energy fluctuations of the Bagua Spinning Top Space had not yet fully subsided by the time he finished assembling his HK14 assault rifle, the suppressor clicking softly as it locked onto the barrel. The metallic ring of high-penetration rounds being loaded into the magazine startled the sharp nocturnal cries of the birds in the treetops, sending them echoing through the dense forest.
"Chen Feiyang, you'd better still be alive," Leitao muttered to himself, his red pencil repeatedly circling the assembly point coordinates on his tactical map. The trap mines he had laid on the ridge to the northeast during the skirmish three days ago had successfully delayed the Japanese pursuit, but leaving Chen Feiyang to retreat through the jungle alone and face the Japanese encirclement weighed on his heart like a thorn. As his thumb caressed the rifle grip, he suddenly paused—fresh drag marks wound their way southeastward across the humus-covered ground.
Following the trail for a few hundred meters, Leitao's pupils constricted. Five Japanese corpses lay in a fan shape among the bushes, charred holes piercing the center of their foreheads. The bullet hole diameters matched an AK-series assault rifle perfectly. This was Chen Feiyang's signature "precision sniping" tactic, where every bullet could pierce…
Chapter 466