# 128
Chapter 128: Sniper
Lin Qiye’s figure flickered, swiftly dodging several bullets. Then he reached into the air and twisted—the sub-machine-gun’s barrel folded like soft dough.
Under the effect of “Darkness Erosion” he still couldn’t tear metal outright, but reshaping it was possible. Once a gun’s chamber is blocked, only one thing can happen—
Thud!
The gun burst in Scorpion Three’s hands, mangling his arm. While he howled, a short sword floated up and hovered at his throat, the tip pricking skin and drawing a bead of blood.
“I’ll ask one more time—what are the Believers?” Lin Qiye’s icy voice rang out again.
At the same time, darkness crawled into Scorpion Three’s pupils. Nightmare-level pain flooded his mind, as if something were gnawing, tearing, shredding his brain. Darkness Erosion still can’t control a human spirit, but the agony it inflicts is perfect for interrogation.
Under twin torments of body and mind, the man’s defenses collapsed and he spilled everything.
According to him, the “Believers” are the vassal organization of the Church of the Ancient Gods. The Church’s full members are all god-agents—few in number, individually powerful, but limited in reach. To make up for that, the “gods” created the Believers, recruiting ambitious, capable powerhouses as outer-ring pawns.
Every Believer signs a soul contract with one of the Church’s “gods,” promised that when the dark age of gods descends they will rule over millions. Few actually believe that day will come; most are forced, brainwashed, blackmailed or tricked. Once the contract is signed, they obey unconditionally.
In short, the Believers are a powerful puppet force controlled directly by the Church’s god-agents.
Scorpion Three’s squad had been conscripted two years ago. Former mercenaries who did dirty work under the codename “Mad Scorpion,” they now “serve” the Church’s Medusa—codename “Snake Woman.”
“Snake Woman…” Lin Qiye frowned.
If he remembered correctly, the woman who infiltrated the missile base and flattened the training camp was suspected to be Medusa’s agent.
Her target—him?
With a casual wave Lin Qiye sent the short sword through Scorpion Three’s throat, ending him. The man had delivered intelligence, but Lin Qiye had never promised to let him live—and daring to threaten his family deserved death ten-thousand times over.
Just as he prepared to move, a faint crack sounded from a distant rooftop. A bullet sliced the air straight for his forehead.
Lin Qiye’s pupils shrank; he rolled aside without thinking. The round tore past his cheek, leaving a thin red line. Half a heartbeat slower and it would have killed him.
“Sniper?” He crouched behind a van, brows locked.
With his current mental perception and dynamic vision, ordinary gunfire posed little threat—but a sniper rifle was different. Muzzle velocity ≈ 1000 m/s; his sensory range only 100 m. The bullet would cross that span in 0.1 s—barely enough to dodge, let alone catch with Darkness Erosion.
Another muffled punch—metal ripped as a second round drilled through the van’s roof and buried itself in the snow beside him.
“Two snipers?” His face darkened.
One he could handle using cover; two, from different angles, multiplied the danger several-fold. Both were well hidden, weapons suppressed, impossible to pinpoint in the falling snow.
According to Scorpion Three, eight more enemies lurked somewhere nearby. Hosts in the shadows, he in the light—his situation had turned grim.
While he raced through options, a bullet whistled overhead and slammed into a snow-clump on the opposite rooftop. Blood spurted; a body toppled.
A third sniper?
No—an ally?
Lin Qiye thought of someone and jerked his gaze toward the distance.
Hundreds of metres away, a black-clad man lay prone beneath accumulated snow, a wisp of smoke curling from his rifle’s muzzle—
Leng Xuan.
“First,” Leng Xuan murmured.
His scope locked on the second sniper hidden behind a screen window. That man, realizing another shooter was present, grew frantic, yet convinced his own position was safe, kept scanning for Leng Xuan.
Leng Xuan’s eyes narrowed; he squeezed the trigger.
Whoosh!
The bullet tore through falling snowflakes and punched a gruesome hole between the man’s eyes.
“Second.” Leng Xuan lifted his eye from the scope and looked toward Lin Qiye. “The rest… is up to you.”
Hundreds of metres away, Lin Qiye watched the second head explode; his eyes brightened. He rose from behind the van and turned—within his mental perception several figures were sprinting toward him…