While speaking, he pushed the gun toward Andrew Adams and began explaining how to use it on the spot—what each part was for, how to pull back the bolt, how to fire, how to aim. After giving a brief explanation of each, he continued, “Brother Wuji, your archery skills are excellent. Shooting a gun is just like archery; it’s all about becoming one with your weapon. The only difference is, with archery you can lob or arc your shots, but bullets can’t turn corners.”

Andrew Adams listened intently, memorizing everything. Very soon, he spotted the shadow of a target through the sniper scope. Following David Bolton’s instructions, Andrew Adams aimed the crosshairs at the head of someone who looked like an officer. His hands trembled with excitement, so he took a deep breath, steadied his heartbeat, and waited for the order.

When hunters go out together, coordination and command are key. Andrew Adams certainly knew that marching and fighting were just like hunting—you can’t just do as you please; you have to follow orders. Here, David Bolton held the highest rank, so of course he had to listen to David Bolton.

Once the enemy had moved a bit closer, David Bolton patted Andrew Adams on the shoulder and whispered, “Aim and fire.”

Excitement surged in Andrew Adams again. He nodded happily, straightened his posture, aimed at the target once more, and pulled the trigger. Bang! With a thunderous noise, Andrew Adams saw through the black-and-white sniper scope that the target’s head burst open like a watermelon, red and white matter flying through the air.

A powerful recoil made Andrew Adams’s body jolt, and a wave of pain spread across his shoulder. David Bolton looked at Andrew Adams with a friendly smile and asked, “How was it? Packs a punch, right?”

“Yeah!” Andrew Adams snapped back to his senses and nodded excitedly. At that moment, seeing Andrew Adams fire, the others started shooting as well. The enemy responded quickly; after losing a few men, they began to fight back. For a while, gunfire echoed throughout the forest.

Andrew Adams once again aimed the sniper scope at an enemy. This time, mentally prepared, he channeled his inner strength to his shoulder, controlled his breathing, and treated it just like archery—another headshot.

Watching the enemy’s body jerk backward, dead beyond any doubt, with not a single intact head left, Andrew Adams felt a mix of terror, shock, and exhilaration. A man should kill his enemies, take heads with every step, shatter their courage within five paces, leave no name for a thousand miles, and howl at the sky as he goes.

Of course, there were times he missed—after all, the enemy wasn’t a sitting duck. But that didn’t matter; it was of no consequence. With true military experts like David Bolton around, the enemy would pay a heavy price to get close. Andrew Adams actually seemed a bit like a child at play, thoroughly enjoying his favorite game.

Perhaps sensing the strength of their opponents, the enemy’s assault stopped, and all of them went into hiding, not daring to show themselves. On Andrew Adams’s side, only Ethan Foster kept moving with a sniper rifle, constantly changing positions and taking lives one after another. Truly worthy of being the team’s sniper, he was better than anyone else at spotting enemies and creating opportunities.

Jack Carter grinned and shouted ahead, “Brother Wuji, not bad! That last shot was powerful.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Brian Clark joked as well.

David Bolton glanced at Andrew Adams, a look of approval in his eyes. He said, “You’ve got good potential and even better talent. Later, let Ethan Foster teach you properly—he’s the best sniper among us.”

As he spoke, he waved Brian Clark over, signaling him to quickly set up the area for a retreat.

Andrew Adams watched as Brian Clark casually grabbed grenades hanging from his body and started planting them all over, covering them with leaves and such. Anyone who didn’t know would never spot them. In some places, he even left bullets. As he worked, he said, “Brother, I don’t have many other skills. Want to learn? I’ll teach you later.”

Andrew Adams didn’t know how powerful these things were, but he could guess they were like the traps he set while hunting—extremely lethal.

In just three minutes, Brian Clark had set up more than a dozen mines nearby, along with plenty of bullets. With a wave of his hand, David Bolton signaled Andrew Adams to lead the way, and everyone quickly withdrew from the battlefield.

Chapter 8: Driving Off the Wolf Pack

Once again, they retreated at full speed. Ten minutes later, Andrew Adams heard countless explosions and many whizzing sounds darting through the forest. Looking back, their former position looked like a fireworks show, with screams echoing everywhere.

Brian Clark grinned and said, “Anyone who can get past the traps I set probably hasn’t even been born yet. That’ll give them a real headache.”

“I bet this time we’ve scared the guts out of them. They’re just a bunch of small fry—boring. I doubt they’ll dare chase us now,” said Jack Carter.

David Bolton signaled everyone to hurry, and Andrew Adams led the way. They had walked less than half an hour when they suddenly stopped. Everyone halted, alertly scanning their surroundings. Aside from the dense forest, the ground was covered in dead leaves and shrubs. Ancient trees towered overhead, vines winding and spreading freely. A few rays of sunlight pierced the leaves, swaying and shimmering like sunflowers.

Andrew Adams whispered, “It’s a wolf pack. Everyone, be careful.”

Glancing at David Bolton, Andrew Adams suddenly realized something and quickly called everyone to gather together. Without hesitation, they grouped up. David Bolton asked, “Why gather together? Wouldn’t spreading out into a defensive formation be more effective for combat?”