Volume One, Chapter Nine: The Last Straw That Broke the Camel's Back—The Rebels Withdraw???

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Ahmed just couldn’t make sense of it. How on earth did this battle end up like this? Originally, the rebel reinforced battalion had the entire Third Armored Platoon of the Firestorm Company completely surrounded, leaving no escape route whatsoever. The only reason the Firestorm Company’s Third Armored Platoon hadn’t been overrun was because they possessed numerous armored heavy weapons and fought to the death. Once the Third Armored Platoon ran out of ammunition and supplies, they would have been unquestionably captured.

But now? The situation had inexplicably shifted so that the rebel reinforced battalion was being caught in a pincer attack by the enemy. And this pincer was highly irregular—on one side, only four men; on the other, thirty or forty. This combined force of fewer than fifty men was somehow encircling a reinforced battalion of over five hundred? Was that even remotely reasonable?

By all logic, it shouldn’t be. Yet, in reality, it was exactly what had happened.

*Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—*

*Boom—boom—boom—*

On the frontal battlefield, Han Cheng and his three comrades each displayed their unique prowess, weaving through the hundreds of enemy soldiers like dragons swimming through water.

At the flank, the Firestorm Company’s Third Armored Platoon fought back with all their might, launching a fierce counterattack.

Ahmed had considered breaking the enemy down and tackling these four or five dozen men separately. If the frontal force of Han Cheng and his trio was too difficult to handle, then he would first deal with the Third Armored Platoon on the side.

But putting this into practice proved extremely difficult. Because the moment a large portion of his troops turned to engage the Third Armored Platoon, Han Cheng and his three allies would start showing their true faces.

Losing much of his force’s balance, Han Cheng’s trio unleashed their three great innate talents to their fullest extent. The fewer people restraining them, the more freely they unleashed their abilities.

So, the moment Ahmed decided to first deal with the Third Armored Platoon, this happened:

The bulk of his forces turned to fight the Third Armored Platoon—but before they could even reach them, the few platoons left to face Han Cheng’s group on the front line were wiped out.

Then Han Cheng and his three teammates caught up and relentlessly assaulted the rear of Ahmed’s reinforced battalion.

The more Ahmed ignored them, the harder they fought, forcing his battalion to turn and confront them!

Ignoring them wasn’t an option. Ahmed realized that if he stubbornly neglected Han Cheng’s four men to deal with the Third Armored Platoon, even if he managed to defeat the platoon in the end, his own forces would suffer grievous casualties.

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In short, the combat effectiveness of those four men was excessively beyond normal standards. Four men making several hundred soldiers sweat bullets—wasn’t that incredible?

Yet, focusing all his attention on Han Cheng’s four also didn’t work, because no matter how he tried, they were impossible to eliminate. Like stubborn chewing gum or a sticky plaster, they just bounced around right before his eyes, helpless to stop them.

This, in turn, gave the Third Armored Platoon the opportunity to rain rockets and missiles upon Ahmed’s reinforced battalion as if they had no cost.

Though Ahmed’s forces quickly deployed an anti-missile system to intercept part of the assault, the coordinated attack from both fronts effectively pinned down his battalion’s “arms,” beating them into submission.

As casualties mounted, Ahmed thought this couldn’t continue—if they kept fighting like this, his battalion would inevitably be torn apart by the enemy.

So he made a drastic decision.

“Long-range units, target the front! Priority: those four enemies!”

Previously, because Han Cheng and his comrades were embroiled in close combat within the enemy ranks, Ahmed had refrained from deploying long-range weapons against them, fearing friendly fire.

But now, seeing the unfavorable situation, Ahmed no longer cared. Severe friendly fire was better than being dragged to death by the enemy.

As the saying goes, “No pain, no gain.” Ahmed was willing to sacrifice a few to secure ultimate victory.

“To have forced our several hundred troops into such a state, whoever commands the enemy, Ahmed salutes you as a hero. But sorry, the final victory belongs only to us rebels. Fire!”

What Ahmed did not realize was that this very decision would become the final straw that broke the camel’s back!

*Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—*

Several missiles and rockets shot into the sky like firecrackers.

Guided by precise targeting systems, they aimed for Han Cheng and his three comrades to deliver a decapitating strike.

Ahmed expected this would easily wipe out those four pests, but what he witnessed was astonishing.

As the missiles soared several thousand meters into the air, Han Cheng’s three teammates, influenced by his SS-tier precognitive senses, instinctively began withdrawing from the bombing zone.

Meanwhile, Han Cheng, wielding an anti-materiel heavy sniper rifle seemingly out of nowhere, raised his gun, aimed, and fired in one fluid motion.

*Bang—*

The bullet, roughly the size of a soda bottle, roared like a dragon spiraling skyward.

After traveling hundreds of meters, it precisely collided with an incoming missile.

Thanks to his SSS-tier talent as the ultimate marksman, Han Cheng’s accuracy was nothing short of phenomenal.

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The bullet struck the missile’s trigger fuse with pinpoint precision.

*Boom—* A massive explosion erupted midair, scattering dazzling fireworks!

“WTF!!” Ahmed was stunned, even involuntarily exclaiming in broken English.

Someone had actually used an anti-materiel sniper rifle to hit a speeding missile mid-flight.

Was this even human?

Yet what followed shocked Ahmed even more.

Though Han Cheng successfully detonated one missile, before he could reload for another shot, the other missiles had already arrived.

“What the hell???” Han Cheng was startled, quickly discarding his sniper rifle and preparing to flee.

But with the missile barrage descending, escape was all but impossible.

*Boom—boom—boom—boom—*

As the missiles struck and exploded one after another, Han Cheng performed an operation that would astonish Ahmed for a millennium:

Parkour within a missile bombardment zone?!

For ordinary people, surviving in a dense missile strike zone was not just difficult—it was virtually impossible.

Anyone who survived would be a child of destiny.

But Han Cheng was different, blessed with SS-tier precognitive senses.

He could precisely anticipate each missile’s impact point and blast radius.

Combined with his S-tier masterful agility, his speed and movement reached the pinnacle.

This allowed him to perform a miracle: moving through the missile explosions like a monkey darting through a flower garden, not a leaf touched by fire.

No matter how fierce the explosions, even if a missile landed directly on him, he suffered nothing beyond burned clothing.

Watching Han Cheng leap and bound through the bombardment like the Monkey King, Ahmed stood dumbfounded, mouth agape.

“Man, have you already used up all your good luck? Are you living on borrowed time? How the hell are you dodging missiles like this?”

Han Cheng’s near-invulnerability to missile strikes became the last straw for Ahmed.

After a brief moment of stunned disbelief, Ahmed snapped back and made a decision that betrayed all his ancestors’ wisdom.

“Retreat! Immediate withdrawal!!!”

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