Chapter 127 Close Combat!

Twilight descended upon Mount Wutai, draping the forests in a golden veil that preserved the trees' fleeting warmth. This ephemeral beauty heralded the encroaching night, where darkness greedily supplanted the sun's dominion, banishing its lingering heat with an unyielding chill.

Nightfall rendered the realm a forbidden domain for humanity, for fear begot invention—lights to reclaim the shadows. Yet here, it was an absolute sanctuary...

No luminescence was permitted; it was a void of utter obscurity...

Perched upon an ancient arboreal sentinel near the cavern's maw, amidst the dense foliage, lurked an entity not of this domain—a sniper clad in camouflage, his visage obscured by paint, as cold as the enveloping gloom. He lay prone upon a robust bough, his right index finger perpetually caressing the trigger of his Barrett M82A1, a behemoth of anti-material warfare, its prowess unchallenged even in his advancing years. Augmented with specialized armor-piercing rounds, it ranked among the world's most formidable arms. From his pocket, he extracted an energy bar, masticating it to stave off the night's sapping cold.

"36, report your status!" The communicator buzzed, a ritual every ten minutes to avert silent assassinations. As the vanguard, snipers were the closest to mortality.

"Nothing to report; not a soul in sight, though the damned insects are plentiful," 36 grumbled, his words muffled as he chewed. Since his vigil commenced two days prior, anti-bug sprays and paints offered scant respite; the persistent bites on unmentionable areas were a vexation.

"Cut the chatter! Stay vigilant!" The captain's irritation was palpable. "Remember, the main force is mobilizing; in 45 minutes at most, our Beast legion will arrive. As the foremost line, your role is reconnaissance, not dense deployment. Spot the targets, but do not engage prematurely—it could compromise your position. Each life is singular; I have no desire to retrieve your remains..."

"Captain! Weren't orders to eliminate the targets by any means?" 36 questioned, detecting a discrepancy between the captain's directives and superiors'.

"Dammit, if you wish to die, fire away! Do you grasp what we're facing?" The captain's tone was derogatory yet laced with concern.

"Just a few impostors posing as Chinese agents, disrupting our morale—terrorists, essentially," 36 recited the intelligence briefing.

"Only a fool would swallow that! The soldiers who cleared the Seoul battlefield described mountains of corpses, even our premier Beasts reduced to wreckage. I've never encountered such formidable terrorists!" The captain's temperament blended meticulousness with volatility, akin to Xu Mo.

"So we're hunting the real agents?" 36 sensed the peril; the Battle of Taipei was legendary, and in military circles, 13's SEED launch was a revered "tutorial." Though an adversary, 13 was the sniper's idol. Confronting him? 36's mind echoed a single thought—"Fatal."

"Indeed, we're the expendables per command. Your signal's loss will confirm their position for the rear. We're sacrificing to pinpoint coordinates, so do not fire recklessly; let them pass," the captain defied orders, perhaps not the ideal soldier, but a commendable leader. All snipers listened intently.

"Fear is a soldier's disgrace!" A unfamiliar voice intruded—1's.

"Who is this?" The captain's cold sweat trickled.

"Worry for others before yourself..." 24 joined the channel.

"More like, worry for yourself..." 36's retort was icy.

This time, 36 couldn't contain himself; the voice was proximal.

Glancing back, four emerald eyes pierced the darkness.

"You too are 36?" 36 eyed the panicked sniper.

He was speechless.

"That's a badge of honor; you've sullied it..." 36's words turned glacial, and in the communicator, the sniper's screams echoed, startling the forest's avian inhabitants.

"36!!" The captain cried in alarm. "What happened?"

"Worry for yourself..." The same chill voice replied; 1 stood behind him.

From the tree, 36 descended, clutching the sniper's Barrett. He considered it a trophy for 13 but found it cumbersome. With force, he bent the long barrel into a ring, a grotesque sight.

"Done!" 36 exclaimed. "Before the Beasts arrive, let's prepare a welcome..."

The pre-battle "appetizer" was relished...

"Forward signals are vanishing?!" Miyamoto received the report, tension mounting. "Order the technical unit to hasten the Beast legion's advance; encircle the signal-less zone! Eliminate them!"

"Yes, sir!" The soldier responded.

Simultaneously, the monsters surged, their head lamps igniting as they charged toward their prey...

"Forty-seven snipers. The Japanese are generous with their 'signals'..." 36 discarded the corpse.

"Alright, the battlefield's cleared; time to gift our imbecilic robots," 1 said coldly via the communicator.

In 30 minutes, red dots blanketed the night, resembling ghostly flames, as the Beast legion advanced...