Chapter 105: Ruthless Kill

From the hilltop to the pine forest to the northwest, the straight-line distance was just over a hundred meters.

This distance fell within the effective range of the Mosin-Nagant bolt-action rifle, the MP44 assault rifle, and the lethal range of the Mauser M1932 submachine gun.

Lin steadied himself and raised the Soviet rifle, peering through the 3x magnified scope. He observed a commotion in the clearing amidst the pine trees. Between a few of the pines, an officer-like figure gestured dramatically, clearly displeased with the sluggishness of the soldiers.

Similar to the German sniper scope, the Soviet version was also etched, allowing for easy target acquisition. Though Lin had only attended a single professional sniper course during his time in the assault team, he had ingrained the essential knowledge deeply into his mind. Considering the wind direction and the essential factors of gravity and distance, he adjusted the aiming reticle slightly upward and to the left. Just then, the figure in the scope rotated clockwise, presenting its broad back to Lin for the first time in a live combat situation—a "gift" he graciously accepted.

Crack...

The gunshot on the open hilltop reverberated faintly, echoed by the surrounding hills, underscoring its crispness.

In the sniper scope, the target fell like a plastic mannequin in a shop window, without struggle.

Moving the scope slightly, Lin observed the surrounding Soviet soldiers who immediately noticed their fallen commander. Some rushed to assist, while others remained vigilant with their guns raised, but due to their lack of preparation, none of them noticed the silent shot's origin.

Lin calmly chambered another round, shouldered the rifle again, and shifted his focus to the cars and motorcycles hidden in the forest. Quick-thinking Soviet soldiers were already climbing into the vehicles. Lin first targeted what looked like a jeep, not entirely open-topped but similar to the Horch kfz15 he had ridden before, using a steel-framed canvas top that offered little defense against bullets. Aiming at the driver's position, he squeezed the trigger as soon as he saw smoke billowing from the exhaust.

Crack...

With no other gunfire in the vicinity, the single shot on the hilltop stood out, catching the attention of some Soviet soldiers. Lin, however, paid no mind to the results or reloading. Instead, he kept the empty rifle at the ready, meticulously observing the enemy's reactions through the scope. Some soldiers rushed to start their three-wheeled motorcycles, while those who should have been in the sidecars used the vehicles as makeshift cover, firing towards Lin's position. Some soldiers threw themselves into the non-armored cars, intending to encircle the village perimeter upon hearing the gunfire. As for those who neither boarded vehicles nor ran towards them, they picked up their weapons and soon joined the firefight.

Although the Soviet soldiers' counterattack was fierce, their bullets posed no immediate threat to Lin. Ignoring the bullets whizzing overhead or impacting the ground nearby, Lin calmly placed the Mosin-Nagant down and picked up the MP44. With smooth efficiency, he aimed at the area where the cars and motorcycles were located, his right cheek resting lightly against the stock, his left eye closing naturally, and he fired in single-shot mode.

Crack... Crack... Crack... Crack...

The sounds of the German assault rifle firing rapidly every 1.5 seconds were more pleasing to Lin's ears than the Mosin-Nagant's sniper rifle just now. Gripping the middle-upper part of the curved magazine with his left hand, Lin compensated for the rifle's recoil by pushing downwards when the shoulder pushed back, ensuring the muzzle returned to its original position in time for the next shot. At a distance of one or two hundred meters, Lin couldn't hear the cries of the Soviet soldiers being hit or see their actions or expressions with his naked eyes. All he knew was that the dark red bullets flew out of the barrel one after another, disappearing into the dark shadows of the pine forest, aimed at the unsuspecting Soviet soldiers.

With 30 rounds expended, Lin employed his trademark "5-second magazine change" technique. After swapping to a full magazine, he didn't rush to continue shooting but carefully observed the situation in the forest through the scope. After nearly a minute, the Soviet counterattack gunfire gradually became more intense and accurate, with several bullets hitting less than twenty centimeters from Lin, posing a substantial threat. Listening closely, Lin heard the roar of engines starting.

The sniper rifle was within reach, but Lin didn't pick it up for observation. Instead, he remained in a kneeling position, his chest above the ground, observing the Soviet trench used for cover. The muzzle of the assault rifle was slightly lowered, aimed at the edge of the southeastern corner of the forest. With a strong intuition, he believed that the Soviet cars and motorcycles would emerge from the south or east.

Without the clear roar of accelerating cars or the intense gunfire disguised beforehand, a car resembling a US military jeep suddenly emerged from the forest. Lin's index finger was already applying pressure on the trigger, but he saw motorcycles following behind the car. Immediately shifting the aim, he targeted the smaller but easier-to-intercept motorcycles. At this moment, their speed had not yet reached its peak, and intercepting them would be difficult once they reached full speed!

Rapid single shots followed every 1.5 seconds. With each pull of the trigger, Lin's finger acted decisively. He paid no attention to the bullets fired by the enemy, relying on instinctive control to operate his body in the simplest and most efficient way, like a simple yet finely tuned machine.

Nine bullets took down the driver of the first motorcycle, causing it to swerve and eventually topple over; nine bullets not only killed the driver of the second motorcycle but also hit and ignited its engine; nine bullets caused the third motorcycle to follow the path of the first.

After firing these nine bullets, Lin paused briefly, opening his left eye to observe. At this point, only the car that had initially burst out of the forest remained on the east side, while about a dozen or so Soviet infantrymen had appeared on the south side, close to his position. They moved cautiously, taking cover and firing intermittently, their PPsH-41 submachine guns quite fierce at this distance.

Quickly assessing the battlefield, Lin decided to temporarily leave these small fry aside and focus on eliminating the Soviet car that could both rescue the village and flank him. Adjusting his aim slightly, he fired rapidly with his right index finger.

One shot, two shots, three shots... Lin felt confident that each bullet hit its mark precisely, but his combat experience and rational thinking reminded him that some of the bullets were likely to miss. So, he fired twelve bullets in quick succession until the Soviet car began to sway erratically like a drunkard. He ceased fire only when he noticed the car forcefully charging towards the forest.

"Now it's your turn, you little rabbits!"

Lin mentally intimidated the enemy, his German helmet pressed low, covering his eyebrows and leaving only a pair of cold, intense eyes visible. Despite the advantage of a light machine gun and numerical superiority, the terrain disadvantage was insurmountable—they couldn't see the shooter's accurate location, while their own movements were exposed to him. As the crisp gunfire resumed, they began falling like sheep on the prairie, one after another, some struggling after falling, others dropping lifeless.