In the middle of the night, after three days without sleep, Andrew Clark felt he couldn't hold on any longer. But when he saw Sarah Lane, who was seriously injured and had just recovered from a major illness, still gritting her teeth and pushing forward, he thought of his tragically fallen brothers and forced himself to perk up. He clenched his teeth and followed, adjusting his breathing with his family's secret breathing technique. Gradually, Andrew Clark felt his stamina recovering and no longer felt sleepy. He was overjoyed—he hadn't expected that his family's breathing method could also work while walking. Wonderful.

Sarah Lane had no idea that Andrew Clark had a breathing technique that could accelerate the recovery of stamina and energy. The fact that he could endure three days without proper rest gave her a higher estimation of Andrew Clark's potential and made her look forward to more. She didn't say much, just continued moving forward at a steady pace. They ran like this until dawn, when suddenly, both of them saw blue smoke rising from the woods ahead and immediately stopped.

"Could it be the enemy?" Andrew Clark asked, gasping for breath. His strength was still not enough.

"It should be," Sarah Lane replied, also exhausted, leaning against a big tree to catch her breath. Having just recovered from a serious illness and still injured, the fact that she could hold on this long showed her formidable strength.

"What should we do?" Andrew Clark grabbed his M16A4 automatic rifle, chambered a round, and looked eager to try. With the hatred for his fallen brothers, Andrew Clark was getting impatient.

"Do you think that just because you've learned a few things, you're invincible?" Sarah Lane struck back without hesitation, her icy tone immediately calming Andrew Clark down. At this moment, Sarah Lane raised her sniper rifle and observed through the scope. After a while, she put down the gun, her face grim, and said, "They can't get away. Rest here for ten minutes."

Andrew Clark wanted to say something, but when he saw the murderous look on Sarah Lane's face, he swallowed his words. Sarah Lane glanced at Andrew Clark and said, "At any time, only by protecting yourself can you kill the enemy. In our current state, charging in recklessly is suicide. Take out the food."

"Yes." Andrew Clark suddenly understood, cursing himself for being too rash, and quickly took out some jerky to share.

With his breathing technique and Sarah Lane's strong constitution, both of them fully recovered their strength after ten minutes. They got up in sync and moved forward, checking their weapons as they walked. Neither said a word. On a hillside, they saw a group of people ahead gathered around a campfire, sharing food.

Chapter 16: Waiting for the Prey

Having found their targets, both were excited and raised their sniper rifles, observing through the scopes. Andrew Clark didn't recognize them, but saw it was a group of Westerners, among whom was an Eastern man, about fifty years old, looking like a university professor. He put down his gun in confusion, looked at Sarah Lane, and asked, "Is it them?"

"No doubt about it," Sarah Lane said grimly, her eyes filled with overwhelming hatred.

Andrew Clark was surprised and puzzled, not knowing why Sarah Lane hated them so much, but didn't ask further. He said, "What do we do next? There's an Eastern man— is he their leader?"

"Remember, that Eastern man is a traitor. If we can capture him alive, that's best. If not, he must die," Sarah Lane said through gritted teeth, the murderous aura around her growing even stronger. She put down her sniper rifle, turned to Andrew Clark, and seriously instructed, "If I die, you must kill that Eastern man. Do you understand?"

"Can you tell me why?" Andrew Clark asked in surprise.

"A traitor carrying national strategic secrets—must be killed," Sarah Lane said coldly, her face as icy as a frozen tundra, devoid of any emotion. After chambering a round, she continued, "Remember this place. You and I will split up and encircle them. If we get separated, meet back here."

"Got it," Andrew Clark replied eagerly, his fighting spirit ignited. Thinking of his brothers' vengeance, he no longer hesitated and decisively moved off to one side, his steps firm and powerful.

"Remember—stay alive," Sarah Lane suddenly said.

Andrew Clark paused, turned back, and saw a glimmer of something different in Sarah Lane's icy eyes—clearly worry. He was moved inside, nodded firmly, and said, "Stay alive." With that, he headed off to the side.

For a new recruit, combat and killing are tense and terrifying experiences—many can't even face them. But Andrew Clark, his mind filled with hatred and having survived several brushes with death (and even shot someone dead in a hail of bullets), felt no negative emotions. He quickly found a large, sturdy-looking tree on higher ground, with plenty of cover from other trees ahead. According to Sarah Lane, this kind of terrain made it harder for the enemy to target him.

On the lower side of the tree, the terrain dipped, forming a natural trench. Andrew Clark quickly lay down, coldly raised his gun, and searched for targets through the scope. He soon locked on, able to clearly see the enemy's faces. The distance was a bit far, so Andrew Clark couldn't judge the exact range, only estimate. He racked his brain to recall the shooting skills Sarah Lane had taught him.

Normally, a bullet's trajectory forms a parabola after being fired. For a pistol, a noticeable deviation appears at 15 meters; for a rifle, about 70 meters. So, depending on the distance, the bullet could land anywhere along the vertical crosshair. As a sniper, it's not enough to just put the enemy in the crosshairs—the scope is only a reference, not a guide. To hit the target accurately, a sniper must estimate the distance precisely.