Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 23

Chapter 310: The Gate of Fate for a Womanizer

I know very well that, judging from the current situation, even if Jason Jody showers Luya with countless jewels, it's just a charade.

While Luya may seem to have returned to my side, she's still essentially under Jason Jody's control. It's like the cage she was in on the Sea Demon; now it's just been moved from the pirate ship to the apartment.

My journey to hunt down the Pirate King is bound to be fraught with danger, and in this dangerous place, where else can I put Luya besides the apartment for safety?

Besides, there are eyes and ears on the Sea Demon at the main entrance; our every move is under Jason Jody's surveillance.

Du Mo couldn't quite understand it. Jason Jody was still the same cunning, stingy old man. Since he dared to hang precious jewelry on Luya, it meant she couldn't fly away, and neither could her treasures. No one could outsmart this pipe-smoking old man.

Although Luya had good food and drink and plenty of freedom on the Sea Demon, it didn't change the fact that she was essentially a bargaining chip for Jason Jody.

If my mission failed, or if the plan went terribly wrong, those pirates would kill her at any moment, cutting off her hands and feet and hanging her on the ship's side to play with sharks, while viciously saying, "Blame that good-for-nothing man! He couldn't save you, so you have to suffer like this!"

The most vicious way to manipulate someone is to first elevate them, then let them crash down to their death.

After dinner, I took Luya to the bedroom. She hugged me and cried again. I told her about the current situation, and she just nodded with tears in her eyes before slowly closing her eyes and falling asleep.

The Somali sun rises very early. As soon as the first rays of light streamed through the window, I quietly got out of bed. Dumo was also up early, sitting in the kitchen staring blankly at the water that was about to boil.

"You've told them everything," I said coldly. Dumo nodded but didn't say anything. I pulled a sharp dagger from under my leg, opened the kettle lid, and plunged it into the boiling water.

I had been separated from Luya for many days, and the thought of sending her away after only one night together brought me both relief and a touch of sadness. Dumo was also about to part with his woman, Doguwa, and he was feeling bad too, but Dumo and I had no other choice.

The white pickup truck that brought Luya would drive up from the foot of the mountain again near dusk to pick up Luya and Duoguwa and return them to the Sea Demon. The pirate with the SVD sniper rifle who accompanied them last time had warned Dumo before leaving: do not attempt to move the women or escape, or you will be killed without mercy! As

the sun approached noon, Dumo pushed open the door to the apartment on the first floor, excitedly shouting, "Haha, I didn't even dare eat much for breakfast so I could have a big donkey meat sandwich!"

Luya, holding Duoguwa's hand, followed behind with two women laughing. "Mr. Zhui Ma, look at Luya. Although there are endless crabs and shrimp on the Sea Demon, she definitely hasn't been to that famous donkey meat sandwich shop at the foot of the mountain. This time, let her and Duoguwa eat their fill, and bring back extra sandwiches to the Sea Demon to eat later."

Dumo chattered on, his mouth seemingly dripping with drool. My face was filled with sorrow, showing how difficult it was to part with Luya's departure.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, don't be sad. This short separation is for a future reunion. Before they leave, let's both have a good time. I also need to buy a box of condoms to make up for our intimacy during this time apart."

Hearing Du Mo's unrestrained words, my cold face became even more sinister. Luya quietly walked behind me, tugged at my arm, and gestured for me to turn around and squat down.

"Don't be sad. I'm doing quite well on the Sea Demon. Hurry up and finish what you need to do, and come pick me up from the pirate ship as soon as possible." As soon as she finished speaking, tears welled up in her eyes.

I hugged Luya tightly and said to her in a low voice, "Yes, before the sun sets, we must cherish this short time together."

Du Mo hugged Duoguwa and kissed her again, leaving the guards behind them dumbfounded. "Damn it, what are you looking at? Salute

me now, and when we get back, each of you will get a steaming hot donkey meat sandwich." The guards looked at each other, dumbfounded. Of the five, only one guard winked at Du Mo.

"Fake, you're jealous that Du Mo is kissing his own woman." He then winked at the guard, indicating that there was no need to worry.

After a period of tears and sorrow, the four of us walked out of the apartment gate. The two women became happy and skipped ahead of Du Mo and me. Bright little flowers bloomed on both sides of the road, attracting them to pick them.

After walking less than fifty meters down the hillside from the large iron gate of the apartment, a blazing line of fire swept past our heads, striking the iron gate railing of the apartment and producing a metallic shriek.

Without delay, several more lines of fire whizzed past Du Mo and me. I yelled, "Sniper!"

and lunged at Luya, who was running ahead, to tackle her and avoid the bullets.

Dumo, like a roaring bull, also charged towards his woman, Duoguwa. The iron gate behind them sparked as bullets grazed past them. The five guards ducked in panic, hiding behind large rocks and firing blindly.

Dumo and I hadn't carried sniper rifles this time; each of us only had an AK-47. The moment I tackled Luya, I wrapped my arms around her soft body and rolled into a ditch.

"Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat..." Once behind cover, I desperately returned fire in the direction of the sniper fire, while Dumo fired back frantically beside me.

The five guards behind us were still hiding behind the large rocks on either side of the iron gate, their weasel-like faces frozen in fear. They only occasionally peeked out to fire a few shots; the sounds were intense, but the bullets were deflected sharply.

"Waaaaah, waaaaah... Doguwa, pull yourself together, pull yourself together. Waaaaah..." Dumo, lying in the ditch beside us, dropped his rifle and wailed, clutching the thin woman whose chest was covered in blood.

I glanced at Luya lying at my feet, and the rifle I was holding fell to the ground. "Luya, Luya, hold your wound, you have to hold on, you'll be alright."

The sniper rifles firing from the opposite hillside had been driven back by Dumo's and my rifles. I picked up the limp Luya, using the rocks by the roadside for cover, and ran quickly towards the apartment gate, with Dumo carrying his woman close behind.

Chapter 311: A Heart-wrenching Howl

"You bastards! Shoot! Cover us!" Du Mo roared, his eyes bloodshot, at the guards hiding behind the rocks. They immediately opened fire on the sniper rifles.

As soon as I ran into the apartment building, I ducked to the side, gently placed Lu Ya on the ground, and shouted desperately, "Du Mo, Du Mo, hurry upstairs, get the first-aid kit, quick!"

Du Mo placed Duo Gu Wa, whose chest was soaked in blood, next to Lu Ya and ran upstairs like his pants were on fire.

I pulled out my dagger and cut open Lu Ya's blood-soaked skirt, and at the same time cut open Duo Gu Wa's blouse, revealing two blood-soaked, scarlet black nipples swaying before my eyes.

Du Mo brought the first-aid kit and frantically poured hemostatic powder onto the two women's wounds, still wailing.

The guards at the gate, seeing that the sniper at the foot of the mountain had stopped firing, all retreated into the courtyard. Seeing that the two women had been hit by the sniper, they all wanted to go forward to watch. The five dark-skinned men stared with terrified eyes, either out of curiosity or wanting to lend a hand.

Regardless of their motives, I swung my right hand behind my back, drew my FN57 pistol, and pointed it at the head of the guard walking in front, hysterically yelling, "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"

Seeing me like a demon from hell, my blood-stained hands gripping the pistol, baring my teeth and roaring at them, the five men immediately trembled and shrank back hastily.

They knew that at this moment, I was furious and had nowhere to vent my anger, so it was entirely possible that I would fire a machine gun at their heads.

"Who's that bastard at the foot of the mountain? Who is he? I'm going to find him and skin him alive! You son of a bitch, did your guards make enemies? Did you? Bastard!" My roar echoed high up the mountainside, almost shaking the apartment building in front of me.

"Those guys hurriedly dropped their rifles, crouching on the ground, waving their hands repeatedly at me and Dumo." I forced the five men back, and Dumo was already crying uncontrollably while holding her Doguwa.

"Dead, all dead. Waaaaah, waaaah!" My attention was diverted by Dumo's cries, and I stormed towards him in a rage.

I grabbed Dumo, whose face was covered in snot and tears, and punched him in the round cheek. The shiny black kodo beast let out a scream and flew through the air, snot and all, crashing onto the steps in front of the house.

Before he could even settle down, I darted after him, grabbed him again, and punched him in the round, black nose once more. Dumo let out a piercing scream.

"It's all your fault, you disgusting glutton! You insisted on eating donkey meat sandwiches, and now look what happened! Who will pay for Luya's life? Who will pay for it?"

I stood in the middle of the yard, glanced at the two women lying on their sides, and then clenched my fists and let out a heart-wrenching howl. Dumo

, having taken two punches, sat on the ground some distance away, crawling as if searching for his teeth. The five guards huddled against the wall beside the iron gate, watching with trepidation, wishing they could disappear into the ground.

I picked up the now-motionless Luya and slowly walked back into the apartment. Dumo, carrying his woman Duoguwa, followed me into the living room at a distance.

The two women's corpses lay on the large round table in the first-floor living room, clearly visible to the five guards through the open door.

I ... Du Mo and I brought clean water and gently wiped the dark blood off our respective women's bodies. We then carried two large wooden crates downstairs, wrapped the two bodies in clean sheets, and carefully placed them inside.

The twilight glow spilled into the apartment courtyard, seemingly turning everything blood red. At the foot of the distant mountains, a small white pickup truck with its headlights on was slowly driving up.

Five security guards saw the car coming to pick up the women; one of them rushed over and whispered something to the passenger side through the window.

Du Mo and I had already sniped our sniper rifles. He carried a rifle and various sidearms, each holding a wooden crate containing a woman's body, and walked towards the car parked at the gate.

Five armed black men jumped out of the back of the white pickup truck. Seeing me approaching with a grim expression, carrying the crates, they quickly stepped aside, their eyes wide with terror as the crates were gently placed in the truck's back.

The passenger in the front seat, standing behind Dumo, whispered what had happened. Dumo ignored him, only staring at the... The wooden crates in the box looked forlorn.

The guy with the SVD sniper rifle was about to reach for one of the crates when my left hand flashed like a lightning bolt, grabbing his throat and lifting him up.

His legs kicked wildly off the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head from the suffocation, the veins on his dark forehead bulging as if about to burst.

But he knew that although the pistol and dagger were at his waist, if he dared to reach for either weapon, I would snap his Adam's apple.

"You dare touch the crates again? I'll smash every bone in your body!" Seeing the situation was turning against him, Du Mo quickly stepped forward, forcing a smile, "Chase, chase, chase Mr. Ma, calm down, calm down! It wasn't him who attacked us, otherwise, why would he dare to come and pick us up?"

Du Mo stammered, his face filled with fear. *Slap!* A resounding slap landed on Dumo's chubby face the moment the man, nearly suffocating, fell to the ground. "

Luya is a part of my life. My feelings for her aren't the physical relationship you have with Duoguwa," I said viciously. The men around me, perhaps out of fear, slightly raised their weapons to defend themselves.

Dumo covered his swollen, blackened face, his mouth agape and bleeding, and stammered, "Everyone, calm down."

Then he leaned close to the guard who had been winking at Dumo earlier that day and whispered fearfully,

"Don't attack! Don't attack! This guy isn't an ordinary soldier; he could kill us all in the blink of an eye! Have you forgotten…"

Dumo turned back tremblingly, forcing a smile at me, "They're scared, yes, yes… it's a conditioned reflex, Mr. Zhuima, please calm down." "

My face remained grim and cold, devoid of any warmth of life. 'Little Pikachu will take me to the banks of the Juba River. Luya loved beautiful watersides most in her life. I want to personally bury her on the riverbank, where flowers bloom and butterflies flutter, so that her soul can rest in peace, far from the suffering and indifference of the world.'

Du Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead and covered his cheek, afraid that my iron-rake-like hand would slap him again.

Chapter 313: The Reward Behind the Apartment

Du Mo knew that although he was also a man, he could not cut his own body to create the illusion that Luya and Duoguwa had been shot dead.

Although he was unsure whether 'Withering Soul Conch' was hired by the Sea Demon or by the Somali sailors, 'Baba Tu' and the other assassin must be unfathomable. He had to keep his mind and body in top condition to join forces with Xuan Ya and Han Tian Nu to win this battle with a three-on-two advantage.

Xuan Ya wanted to satisfy... " To fulfill my plan, he almost exhausted his last savings. He's the kind of person who likes to put on a brave face; although he doesn't say it, I could tell from our last conversation that his wallet was empty.

Jason Jody, that old fox, really lost both Luya and his money this time. He originally thought that by dressing Luya in those three expensive diamond pieces of jewelry, he could show off to me, seduce me into submission, and at the same time, subtly intimidate me.

The implication was: "Why would I be willing to dress this little girl in such precious jewelry? Because she can't escape my grasp. A warning to Dumo and me to behave ourselves and not to have any designs on the hostage." "

Last night I instructed Luya to give all the jewelry to the masked Nine-Lives Raven after seeing him, so that it could be exchanged for funds for the entire plan. This 'fighting to fund the war' tactic, I've turned it against the villains, and that old bastard Jason Jody deserves what he got.

Moreover, I also told Luya not to be curious about the face behind the Raven's veil." Seeing that I hadn't spoken for a while, and seemed to be thinking about something, Dumo also realized that I was worried about Luya at this moment.

"Mr. Chase, do you think that man in the black hat who paddles the raft can protect the two of them?" Dumo asked in a low voice, a little worried.

"Hmph! If that man in the black hat couldn't protect two women, you probably would have died from his bullets during the day."

I snorted twice. Dumo was, after all, a skilled pirate soldier who was good at long-range shooting, so he could naturally see through it.

Dumo gasped, his eyes widening, and said, "Hey! Yes, those bullets flew incredibly fast!" Each one flew past my shoulder and scalp, making the security guards behind me almost wet their pants.

Looking out at the night sky, I pulled out Dumo's belt, made him lie face down on the sofa, tense his muscles, and then swung the belt to whip him. Dumo immediately let out a scream, but his face was all smiles.

"Dumo, you might be seeing Jason Jody tomorrow, so you need to have a few real whip marks on your back." As I said this, I stopped whipping the sofa and swung the belt down his back for the last two blows.

This time, Dumo screamed like a pregnant woman in difficult labor, almost flying off the sofa. But he didn't run around the room; when he couldn't take it anymore, he buried his head in the corner of the sofa, his angry teeth biting into the leather, enduring the pain.

"If I don't beat you a few times now, once that old devil Jason Jody sees through your act, you'll be crying out to heaven and earth in vain." "

Du Mo raised his two fat arms, trying to scratch his burning back. Firstly, it was difficult for him to reach, and secondly, even if he could, he dared not touch it, lest it aggravate the pain.

'Mr. Chase, Mr. Chase, you're practically a death-chaser! I feel this is worse than being cut and bled!'

I said calmly, 'You're right. When I cut your thigh to bleed you, I was careful not to damage a single blood vessel, but now it's unavoidable. I had to just slap it against your skin. Tell me, isn't that painful?'

Upon hearing this, Du Mo slumped onto the sofa and began to sob. 'Don't cry, it's not that bad! How can a real man become a pirate king without suffering a little?'

Du Mo suddenly raised his face, forcing a smile, and said, 'I'm not really crying, I'm faking it. Using fake crying to release physical pain is an effective way, and it's not a bad thing for a man. '" "

I knew his witty banter was kicking in again, so I kept quiet and gave Du Mo a wink. He quickly crouched down to the windowsill, peeking through the curtains towards the door. He saw the doorman pressing his ear against the door, listening intently, occasionally chuckling at Du Mo's pig-like screams.

'Damn it, you fools, you're getting off easy this time.' I knew that normally, Du Mo would have grabbed his rifle and gone out to slap them until they were scrambling to the ground. That was just his personality; he wouldn't let small fry get away with it.

I climbed out the window, and Du Mo stared wide-eyed, thinking I was going to sneak out of the apartment again tonight. When I brought the money I'd buried in a crevice in the hillside behind the building the night before into the room, Du Mo didn't see what was wrapped in the plastic bag, but he guessed it was his reward.

'Haha, did you buy me sausages?'" "Dumo seemed very excited, but he only got halfway through his sentence before his cracked lip hurt again, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Hmph, open it yourself, it'll be more nourishing than sausages," I said coldly, tossing the heavy package onto the table. Dumo, like a puppy eyeing a bone, pounced on it.

"Wow, wow! This, this... hehehehe, hehehehe." Dumo saw the money and quickly covered his cracked lip with his hands, laughing, his eyes bulging as if they were touching the money instead of his hands.

"How much is this? It's all purple? I'm rich!" Dumo picked up the plastic bag, and under the moonlight from the window, he gasped in delight.

"Ugh!" "One, two, three..." This fat, money-grubbing Kodo beast pulled out a thick stack of euros, spat on his index finger as he counted them, and a smile spread across his buttocks as he counted them.

"Stop counting. Each euro note is 500 euros, two hundred in total. This value is not the same as the roll of euros you've stuffed in your boot. In developing countries, this money would be enough for you to join the middle class. The interest alone would cover your and Doguwa's food and lodging for the whole year."

I said casually to Dumo. Dumo, his bulging, shiny black face, was only focused on counting the money, his eyes wide open. He counted the currency twice before clutching it to his chest and facing the ceiling in prayer.

"God, I was just worrying about where I'd be going, and now this windfall has fallen from the sky!" I pulled out the pistol from my backside and aimed it at Dumo's forehead.

When Dumo turned around, he was so frightened that he collapsed to the ground. "No matter how much windfall God bestows upon you, you still need to be alive to enjoy it, right? You'd better put this money away and hurry up and think of a plan. Yi Liang and Chi Chun are still on the Sea Demon."

I said to Dumo in a cold tone, sitting in a dark corner. Seeing that I was trying to cool down his feverish mind, Dumo quickly smiled and said, "Yes, yes, definitely, hehe, just watch me, Dumo. This time, Jason Jody will make full use of me to keep you firmly under control. So, the plan is easier to come up with than before."

I slowly placed the pistol aimed at Dumo on the wooden table, turned my head, and gazed at the moonlight over the African landscape outside the window, falling into deep thought once more. Chapter

314: Intercepting Babatu

The next evening, the white pickup truck slowly drove up the mountain again. Dumo got into their car and returned to the Sea Demon to report the details to Jason Jodi.

I stood on the third-floor window, watching them go through my binoculars. Luya and Duoguwa could no longer stay in Somalia, a place where a new wave of rebels would appear every few days, burning, killing, and looting. Based on my deduction, they might be sent to Mauritius.

As long as I could get Yiliang and Chichun out of trouble again, Xuanya, Hantiannu, and I could take our rifles and head to the Sea Demon to settle old and new scores.

But It seems I not only can't kill the pirate king trapped in Somalia, but I also have to find a way to save his life. Once news of the pirate king's demise spreads, Jason Jodi will definitely turn against me immediately.

The most terrifying thing is that he might collude with Somali sailors, prompting four top-notch assassins to attack me. If that happens, I won't be able to leave Somalia alive, or even Africa alive.

In the middle of the night, I was lying on my soft bed on the third floor of my apartment, plotting how Dumo would lie to Jason Jodi and how to bring Yi Liang back to my side. Suddenly, the small copper bell tied to the leg of the table in the middle of the room jingled twice.

I didn't get out of bed; I simply reached under my pillow for the pistol, the muzzle covered with a cloth, and aimed it at the two half-open windows.

"Squeak, hiss..." Two strange cries, faint and indistinct, sounded like rats on the roof or bats flitting past the window in the night.

But I knew it was a code, and quickly responded with heavy snoring. A man in black, carrying two long guns, dangled his arms upside down from the window, like a spider somersaulting, and swiftly slipped inside.

"Hmph!" This contemptuous, chilling laugh was only heard from the crow. I slowly got out of bed and glanced at the guards at the main gate downstairs. I saw five guys fast asleep, clutching their rifles. But the "eye" planted among them by the Sea Demon had been replaced by another pirate. The original guy had gone back to the pirate ship with Dumo in a pickup truck.

"With so many weapons, looks like they're going to kill someone." "I replied to Xuan Ya indifferently. He sat in a chair by the wooden table, his face covered by a veil, two eerie, ghostly eyes flickering within.

"Those two women are being escorted by Xiao Shanhu. They're probably on the ferry to Mauritius right now." Xuan Ya never minced words, only getting to the point. He knew I was worried about Lu Ya.

"Xiao Shanhu? The kid who used the remote control to tear down the curtains at the Beiru Hotel last time?" I asked Xuan Ya, a little uneasy.

"Hmph, don't underestimate that kid. Although he's only seventeen, he's killed no fewer than twenty mercenaries. Don't worry, there won't be any mishaps on the way. If any trouble arises, Xiao Shanhu is more than capable of handling it." I didn't say anything more ,

just nodded silently, thinking that the child must be Xuan Ya's confidant. It would be a great pity if Xuan Ya didn't find a successor to inherit his consciousness with his skills. However, it was indeed a bit creepy that this guy would find an inconspicuous child to be his deputy when he killed people.

"Pack your things and come with me." Xuan Ya's words startled me. Without even asking, I knew he hadn't come all this way in the middle of the night, carrying a load of weapons, just to tell me about escorting Luya and Duoguwa.

"Kill who?" I suddenly froze, forcing out the two cold words through clenched teeth. Xuan Ya reached behind me and tossed me a dark, mushy paper package. I grabbed it, and with a slight squeeze, I knew it was a pistol.

Tearing open the kraft paper, I found a brand-new, gleaming FN57 pistol, still carrying the characteristic greasiness and metallic smell of a new gun.

"Hmph, you gave that pistol to that fat black kid, didn't you! These short-range weapons must be carried in pairs. You know, the other assassins each carry at least two pistols on their belts, while you only have one. If a fight breaks out, you're bound to be at a disadvantage. Take it; those three pieces of jewelry that little girl has are enough to make up for my financial loss."

I quickly disassembled the new pistol, reassembled it, and carefully checked the magazine to prevent it from jamming at a critical moment. Against those terrifying assassins, even the slightest mistake could be fatal.

"I received information that Babatu has left the Sea Demon. At dawn, that guy will land in Somalia at a fishing port near Avai. Jason Jodi has assigned him to your front lines. If he's lucky enough to take down the Pirate King, you know what will happen next."

While listening to Raven's explanation, I prepared my sniper rifle and started packing my backpack for outdoor travel.

Neither Xuan Ya nor I knew anything about Babatu, the assassin. We hadn't heard any rumors about his killings, only that he was on the list of the top eight most terrifying assassins.

To be among the top eight out of thousands of mercenaries, he must be a formidable figure; anyone who underestimated him would inevitably lose their life.

Xuan Ya and I were lucky with Lian Qiutong's death; the blitzkrieg, without any warning, left him running out in just his pants, and his ammunition was depleted.

Therefore, the advantage of being well-rested and fighting two against one was significant. However, this time, taking down Babatu might not offer the same opportunistic chance as before.

This guy was physically and mentally prepared before landing in Somalia, meaning he was already in combat readiness, ready to face any unexpected attack.

“Just take your weapons, I’ve already prepared everything else.” Xuan Ya was always meticulous in his work. We climbed out the window, crouched and jogged along the rooftop eaves, then leaped down the wall and jumped to the mountainside.

A bright, deep yellow moon suddenly shone on Xuan Ya and me. Four long rifles were slung on our backs. Avoiding the light, we raced up the rocky cliffs like two wild rabbits. Coming down

the other side of the mountain, we found ourselves on a patch of uneven, gravelly grass. A small civilian pickup truck, painted in green camouflage, was parked in a hollow.

Xuan Ya led the way, guiding me towards the truck. As we approached, we saw two large packages in the back pocket, filled with fresh water, food, and essential medical supplies.

And, surprisingly, two brand-new Barrett sniper rifles were lying across the back seat of the truck. It seemed that Xuan Ya was indeed flush with cash now.

"Oh, these weapons were pawned at an underground pawnshop. I redeemed a few yesterday. They're all treasures I've collected; they're great for killing people."

Xuan Ya said, getting into the driver's seat and expertly starting the engine.

On the dark back of the mountain, the camouflage pickup truck, its metal shell gleaming, seemed to shoot two beams of light, pushing aside the darkness blocking the windows. It swayed and rocked, carrying Xuan Ya and me, climbing the hillside to the east.

Chapter 315: The Headhunter at the Fishing Village.
The stars shone brightly across the fields. The camouflage pickup truck bounced on the gravelly grass. I sat in the passenger seat, constantly glancing back at the back pocket, worried that the two packages inside might be shaken out and lost.

Raven remained silent for a long time before saying coldly, "Avai is located in Lower Shabelle, near the lower reaches of the Shabelle River. The warlord guards there are quite tough, and there are many child scouts among them. When we hunt Babatu, we might clash with these armed groups, so..."

I was a little anxious, afraid that Babatu would jump out of my way alive, which would greatly reduce my value to Jason Jodi.

"Hmm, I understand. But according to the terrain shown on the minimap, we can't pinpoint Babatu's exact landing location."

Raven smiled coldly but didn't say anything. I knew he must have his own way. Soon, our little pickup truck sped out of the meadow and followed a sloping, winding mountain road at the foot of the valley, wobbling and speeding along.

The valleys on both sides weren't very high, but they were covered with lush vegetation, their dark outlines appearing stark and eerie under the silvery moonlight.

A cool breeze from the eastern coast seeped through the rolled-down car windows, gently blowing against me and Hanging Raven, making our collars flutter.

As the fishy smell intensified, we drew closer to our destination, the fishing village. We zipped along a winding path overgrown with dense vegetation, and Hanging Raven jerked the steering wheel, causing the little truck to swerve sharply and lurch upwards.

Hanging Raven's iron-like right hand swiftly pulled the handbrake, and the little Beetle slammed into the tall grass and tangled trees. We jumped out, pulled out two sharp machetes tucked under the seats, and quickly trimmed branches and treetops to conceal the vehicle. After a brief flurry of activity, we each shouldered our luggage, grabbed our rifles, and ran towards the valley top.

Standing high above, under the twinkling stars that surrounded the yellow moon, we could vaguely see the distant, shimmering sea. Below, at the foot of the mountain, lay the lower reaches of the Shebelle River, a wide, rushing river stretching out before us.

“Let’s use the rubber raft to cross to the other side. That cluster of wooden houses is the only fishing village near Awai. Babatu will pass through here. If we just disguise ourselves in the woods on the other side, we’ll take him down when the opportunity arises.”

Xuan Ya looked through her binoculars at the sparse fishing boats, and I also surveyed the terrain on both banks. We decided to ambush them from a pincer movement to prevent the enemy from slipping through our blind spots.

Crouching inside the small raft, we used two small wooden oars to paddle. When we reached the other side, the raft was swept far to the side by the current.

Cliff quickly gathered our crossing gear, hiding it under a clump of grass. We found some shiny pebbles on the bank and covered the raft tightly. Then, we grabbed our sniper rifles and ran towards the fishing village.

The woods on the other side of the river were very dense, with each tree averaging over ten meters tall. The abundant sunlight and water made them grow desperately, almost blocking out the light from the night sky.

Moreover, the ground was covered with vines and tree roots; a moment's carelessness could send you treading on a clump of muddy mushrooms. The damp, earthy smell of the ground seemed to want to suffocate you.

The crow running ahead suddenly stopped, turned back, and gestured to me, indicating that we should split up and ambush on the north and south sides of the fishing village.

I started running south towards the village. It was pitch black beneath my feet, and I could only lightly tread the ground while running to avoid tripping over vines or getting my ankles caught in soft mud.

As I neared the edge of the woods, it became increasingly difficult to find a tall tree to climb and ambush.

The area wasn't a neat riverbed, but rather a semi-muddy, low-lying forest formed by the downstream river's alluvial deposits. Unless I grew wings, I couldn't expect to find a high vantage point to perch on.

The dense shrubs around me are generally less than three meters tall. The crown of each shrub is like an upside-down green lotus leaf. The branches of the crowns almost droop into the wet mud on the ground, and some even have grown fleshy buds and roots.

I had to draw my broadsword again and hack at some side branches to get close to the tree trunk, blending my camouflage netting into the dense foliage.

I thrust my long sniper rifle through the tangled branches and peered through the scope. The southern end of the fishing village was eerily quiet, shrouded in darkness.

Babatu was indeed formidable; his choice of landing point and time effectively avoided long-range sniping from high vantage points.

If I and Hanging Raven had been lying prone on the valley floor, during the darkest period before dawn, we wouldn't have been able to lock onto targets passing through the village. Even with Babatu's large size and strong physique, the scope wouldn't have been able to capture a blurry black shadow. Hanging Raven, on the north

side of the woods, was likely in a similar situation; he couldn't climb the tall trees either. The ground was mostly soft sand and mud, with numerous small ditches, four or five meters wide, crisscrossing the forest.

In this ecological environment, plant roots cannot firmly grip the soil. Any tree that grows too tall will become top-heavy and shallow-rooted, eventually collapsing and rotting in the mud.

Dawn was approaching, and the once-bright stars suddenly dimmed considerably. The golden moon began to thin and pale, and the dark light, like the slowly descending bottom of a pot, blanketed the entire African land.

I stood under a low tree with slightly firmer mud and sand; its canopy, like a glass cup, enveloped me. A dark gun barrel stood motionless, pointed towards the south of the fishing village.

After Babatu landed, he had to evade the nearby warlord's armed forces. He dared not recklessly cross through the middle of the village; otherwise, even the fishermen with guns would open their windows and fire at him.

If all goes as expected, that guy will have to detour around the north or south side of the fishing village, pass through a grove of trees, cross the lower reaches of the Shebel River, and head towards Baiboda.

"Bang!" A deep, resonant sniper rifle shot rang out from the north side of the grove, a streak of red fire shooting out from the trees and heading straight for the north side of the fishing village. Hanging Raven must have spotted Babatu passing by and fired a preemptive sniper shot at him.

Hearing the gunshot, I was filled with anticipation. Given Hanging Raven's sniping skills, if he dared to fire, it meant he was absolutely certain he could kill his target.

Just as I was about to pull back my rifle and run towards Hanging Raven, "Bang!" Another deep, resonant gunshot rang out, as if the red fire that had just entered the north side of the fishing village had been bounced back, striking the grove of trees near Hanging Raven.

Chapter 316: A Talisman Made from a Living Man

My heart sank, my hopes shattered. The enemy was clearly retaliating against the Crows; Baba Tu might still be alive.

My military boots crunched in the damp woods, my feet clinging to the mud and sand washed away by the river, like metal running on a magnet, the muddy footprints making a squelching sound.

Dark, low trees stretched out before me, one after another, like a dense orchard, blocking my view of the Crows ahead. I could only vaguely make out a few lines of intense fire, weaving back and forth between the woods and the north side of the fishing village.

"Chase Ma, retreat!" I had only run about twenty-five meters from the Crows when a line of fire swept past me from behind. I immediately dropped to the ground in the mud, clutching my rifle and crawling forward. Above me, like a shower of meteors, countless lines of fire whizzed past.

After speaking solemnly, Xuan Ya collapsed onto the muddy ground and began scrambling deeper into the woods.

The lines of fire overhead grew increasingly dense, and whistling bullets crackled and popped as they flew into the low bushes, scattering countless fragments of branches and leaves.

Knowing something was terribly wrong, I quickly turned and followed Xuan Ya, crawling rapidly through the muddy water he had churned up.

Before we had covered fifty meters, a deafening roar erupted behind us. Several low trees growing in the mud and sand were uprooted and sent flying into the air, their broken branches and mud splattering all over our necks. It wasn't hard to imagine the horrific sight of a human body struck by such firepower.

"Fuck!" Xuan Ya, crawling in the ditch ahead, shook his head violently, raising it from the muddy water to avoid shrapnel, and cursed.

From the dense, intense fire, we knew we were under machine gun fire. A huge explosion further confirmed that the enemy wasn't just using machine guns, but the kind mounted on tanks.

At that moment, the surrounding area was filled with the constant roar of gunfire. The flying branches and mud, combined with the falling debris, created a scene reminiscent of an approaching storm, making it extremely difficult for us to breathe. We dared not stand or run.

Like two frightened crocodiles fleeing, we continued to frantically paw at the ground, desperately trying to escape into the woods.

"I clearly saw a furtive dark figure, seemingly carrying a bulging bag and a long sniper rifle, circling around from the north side of the fishing village. Only after I blew his head off did I realize he wasn't the target,"

I said, constantly wiping the mud and leaves from my mouth. Hearing this from the crow in front of me, I immediately understood.

Barbatos not only meticulously planned the landing location and time, but also set up illusions along the way.

It's currently speculated that he might have brought two or three followers, one of whom he placed at the tip of a snail's antennae. During a night march on flat terrain, if they were ambushed, Barbatos, walking behind, would immediately become alert—of course, the price for being alerted would be his life, but not Barbatos's own.

"That Barbatos kid is an orphan from Mexico City. He grew up in an underground assassin organization. Before even officially facing you and me, he's already pulled a fast one on us,"

Hanging Raven said haltingly, then crouched down, hunched over, and glanced behind the trees before gesturing for me to run quickly towards the river.

Barbatos' tactics are not only unpredictable and varied, but also adaptable to the terrain. From his ability to analyze the terrain and his cautious use of living people as a shield, Hanging Raven and I tacitly felt fortunate that we had killed the child lover so easily last time.

Babatu, one of the eight legendary assassins, saw his human bait, who had been used as bait, killed by a sniper. He then fired his second shot directly into the center of the fishing village.

The warlord guards, who were slumped in their tanks, clutching their AK-47s, were suddenly struck by a line of fire that tore through the night, crashing against the tank's sturdy exterior

with a loud bang. The warlord guards, who were fast asleep, were jolted awake. Armed with their powerful weapons, they were naturally not going to tolerate such an attack and opened their angry eyes to glare around.

Unaware of this change, Xuan Ya remained hidden in the bushes outside the fishing village, relentlessly sniping Babatu. The lines of fire he drew instantly became the vengeful hornet's nest that had been poked open in the darkness.

I raised my head, wiped the muddy water from my face, and told Xuan Ya to run towards the northwest bank of the river to avoid the fiercely armed guards. To kill Babatu, we first had to escape the heavily armored pursuers.

What terrified me and Xuan Ya the most was the possibility of Babatu turning on us. These top-tier assassins were incredibly cunning; an ordinary assassin would seize the opportunity to escape, but Babatu was likely heading straight for our escape route, ready to ambush us.

Therefore, if we couldn't kill this high-level headhunter, we wouldn't be able to escape alive either.

Xuan Ya knew very well that the warlord guards behind us could no longer be viewed with the same scrutiny as starving civilians; their heavy armor was no longer to be ignored.

The weaponry in the coastal area is far more advanced than that in the Somali interior. This is because there are frequent arms deals between European and Asian countries, and pirates sometimes manage to intercept a cargo ship.

These ships often carry tanks or aircraft purchased by a country for strategic defense or deterrence. For such high-end weapons, which the other party might not sell even for a large sum of money, the cost-effectiveness far outweighs the extortion of a huge ransom.

These weapons, which can strengthen the army, are naturally coveted by various warlords. Pirates can then exchange them for substantial land and people, extending their strategic depth at sea.

"Collusion of interests" is ubiquitous, and it applies to both land and sea. Warlords cannot remain landlocked, and pirates cannot remain ashore. When conflicts become irreconcilable, a major battle ensues.

The port battle between Somali sailors and the Div-Hant warlord forces was a product of this irreconcilable conflict.

Countless spotlights shone into the bushes behind us. Those menacing guys, carrying machine gunners, had actually driven two tanks to the edge of the woods.

They knew, of course, that the mud and sand inside the woods were soft and prone to trapping and breaking down armored vehicles, but why were they still pressing forward? Crow and I, already covered in mud, looked back and exchanged a glance, swallowing hard in unison.

At that moment, we both almost simultaneously guessed that the tanks were equipped with advanced night vision tracking devices. They didn't need to run over our backsides; their shells, locking onto targets, were far faster and more effective than tracks.

Chapter 317: The Mud-Skinned Trap

"Boom!" The tank, its cannon barrels propped up at an angle, resembled a metal warrior from Transformers. Suddenly, a pair of radar homing devices, resembling large trumpets, appeared on its left and right wings. The vehicle retracted, and a burst of flame erupted.

Xuan Ya and I knelt in a muddy ditch, our backs pressed tightly against the tree trunk for cover. The large puddle between us exploded with a deafening roar, sending countless mud and water droplets flying like pebbles, piercing us even through our clothes. The

warlord guards on the two tanks were firing their machine guns like fiery dragons, showing no mercy, as if they'd forgotten that saving a single bullet could buy them several bags of bread.

Xuan Ya seized a lull in the shelling and leaped into a shallow ditch, kicking his feet and crawling towards the ten o'clock direction. I followed closely behind.

At this point, neither of us dared to run while crouching; we could only immerse ourselves in the muddy water, lowering our body temperature to quickly disappear from the enemy's heat-detection devices. We

heard hurried footsteps behind us; it sounded like several warlord infantrymen had already slipped into the woods, using the tanks for cover as they pursued us.

Baba Tu must have already bypassed the fishing village. He's either ambushing us in the chaos or crossing the river. I couldn't help but feel anxious.

Normally, those skinny black guards, daring to chase us so brazenly, would have their skulls blown off in a minute.

But at this moment, neither Xuan Ya nor I dared to fire at them. We both knew that if our sniper rifles fired a line of fire in the dark woods, enemy tank shells would immediately come swarming in. The cannons would hit flesh and blood; even without precise point-to-point strikes, the explosions would send people flying and tearing them apart.

Our bodies were submerged in mud, and no matter how fast we crawled, we couldn't pick up any speed. Those guys carrying AK-47 rifles were already hopping and searching towards us.

I curled my upper lip, covering my front teeth with my lower lip, and used the gap to exhale a few faint squeaking sounds, signaling Xuan Ya to stop running and try to kill these reckless bastards who were holding us back.

The crow immediately understood. We quickly took off our backpacks and swung into the depths of the muddy forest. Then we lay flat on the mud, twisting and turning our bodies to gradually sink in until only our thin faces were visible above the surface. The

whole world fell silent instantly. With our ears buried in the mud, we could only hear the heavy pounding of our hearts in our chests.

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the muddy droplets clinging to my eyelashes slide down my cheeks so as not to obstruct my vision.

Above my forehead, through the dense canopy of trees, I could vaguely see a few stars fading away. In my ears, muddy water gurgled and flowed into my eardrums.

The warlord guards, rifles in hand, crept closer. They seemed to pause for a moment not far from me, muttering a few words in a dialect I couldn't understand, before spreading out, increasing the distance between them, and continuing their net-like search.

One of them even chuckled softly, as if Xuan Ya and I were playing hide-and-seek with them.

I held my breath, continuing to lie in the mud and wait. Less than half a minute later, I felt a thin, swaying shadow slice across my chest like a chainsaw.

With these men's bodies acting as a heat source to distract us, the tanks outside the mud forest temporarily stopped bombarding us. Xuan Ya and I were temporarily spared the unreliable yet deadly bombardment.

A short, thin guard, swaying his head from side to side, crouched low as he walked past me, heading towards Xuan Ya's hiding place.

It seemed these guys were still clueless about the situation. They didn't understand the danger and terror of approaching me and Xuan Ya. They must have mistakenly thought that the people driven back into the mud by machine guns and tanks were at most villagers seeking revenge.

These warlord guards often raided surrounding villages for food and women, and in the ensuing fights, they inevitably killed other people's parents and siblings.

So, it wasn't surprising to see a few people with rifles seeking revenge. In the eyes of these warlord guards, such people were nothing more than game coins coming to their deaths.

In less than ten seconds, the short, thin black figure had already stepped onto Xuan Ya, who was lying in the mud. Just then, Xuan Ya, like a crocodile with its mouth wide open, pretending to hunt in the mud, suddenly broke free of the mud and sat up like a zombie.

The unfortunate little monkey soldier, before he could even recover from the shock, heard Xuan Ya's left hand snap and grab his right arm. Those five fingers, as fierce as iron claws, with just a slight pull, crushed the enemy's grip on his rifle, causing him to collapse in pain.

"Crack!" With a short, crisp sound, the sharp dagger in Xuan Ya's right hand pierced the jaw of the short, thin monkey soldier, the tip protruding straight to the back of his nose.

This method of killing was not only cruel but also sophisticated; the victim's throat was crushed before he could even scream, and he died without a painful howl.

Warm blood flowed down Xuan Ya's wrist, soaking his sleeve, and the terrifying man seemed to exhale a refreshing sigh, as if bathed in warmth.

I knew that Xuan Ya's reaction wasn't a release of pressure; these lowly soldiers posed no threat to him whatsoever.

Xuan Ya's outburst of anger might have been from being suffocated by the mud, or perhaps from being annoyed by the trouble Baba Tu had caused him, or perhaps, killing someone in this way was tasteless and boring.

The guard, about to stomp on my chest, saw his comrade die in the blink of an eye at the hands of the raven. He hurriedly raised his rifle to fire, but I swiftly raised my arm, my left index finger wedging behind the trigger, preventing the rifle from firing.

At the same time, my right hand grabbed the man's throat, flung him to the right, and shoved him firmly into the mud.

This guy was also skinny; he felt like a small bundle of straw in my hand. His head, buried in the mud, was constantly bubbling, and his limbs, exposed above the surface, writhed and struggled in agony.

I felt a sharp pain in the inside of my thigh from the man's fingers, which were cramping from suffocation, but I still pressed his head deeper into the mud.

Originally, I could have crushed his Adam's apple, because these people's bodies are mostly weaker than ordinary people. After all, they have suffered from hunger for a long time, and when it comes to hand-to-hand combat ability, they are negligible compared to me.

But the moment I pressed him into the mud, I vaguely sensed that my opponent was a black boy of only fifteen or sixteen years old. His withered limbs were struggling weaker and weaker, and the small hands that were gripping my thigh tightly had obvious purplish-black bruises under their fingernails.

Chapter 318: Trapped in the Canopy

The remaining guards did not find me and Hanging Crow. They continued to search deeper into the mud forest. After all, these people were not the enemies I wanted to shoot. As long as I got rid of them, that was enough.

The boy I had pinched under the mud with one hand had gone from struggling to convulsing. Seeing that he was about to suffocate, I suddenly lifted him with my right hand and pulled him out of the mud like a big radish.

At the same time, I plucked the mud out of his mouth and pushed him to the side under a tree. But his rifle, which I had thrown into the muddy ditch, sank to the bottom and disappeared.

Xuan Ya had already slung his pack, which he'd tossed far away, over his shoulder and, rifle in hand, was chasing after us towards 10:30. I didn't dare delay either; I grabbed my own backpack and ran as fast as I could. My biggest fear right now was that Baba Tu had already swum across the river, and we'd come all this way only to find ourselves empty- handed.

I trudged out of the woods, the river's surface already shimmering with the silken light of dawn. With my sniper rifle in my right hand, I quickly climbed a tall tree and used binoculars to peer across the river.

Muddy water continued to flow down my forehead, and the opposite bank gradually reflected a golden glow. The fleshy red sun rose from the east side of the woods. The

dense grove was filled with palm trees and shrubs; their long, wide, and small, dense leaves increased the overall density of the forest, making it impossible for the human eye to see too deep.

If Babatu ran into the woods, we'd have to quickly climb to the western valley top and snipe him from above; if he didn't escape but hid in the woods, neither Xuan Ya nor I dared to cross the river rashly, as Babatu's sniper shot would instantly take our lives.

Time was running out, so Xuan Ya, perched on another tree, suddenly fired a shot towards the opposite bank. With a muffled bang, a white line of fire shot into the opposite woods, and almost simultaneously, another muffled bang came from the opposite bank, a line of fire shooting towards the canopy where Xuan Ya was hiding.

Xuan Ya, like a sparrow whose head had been smashed by a slingshot, plummeted vertically from the high tree, landing heavily on the grass.

My heart sank. It seemed Xuan Ya had hit Babatu's bait, fallen into his trap, and been instantly shot by the ambush.

As I retrieved my binoculars and raised the sniper rifle resting on a tree branch, the ambush in the canopy of the large tree where the gunshot had rang out on the opposite bank had vanished without a trace. Only the swaying trunk and the leaves, trembling after the bullets had grazed, remained.

A bead of sweat instantly rolled down my forehead. Could my opponent be the infamous Shadow Assassin from the headhunting market? His attacks were truly bizarre. The usually cautious and cunning Raven had been shot down in an instant. If I were to use conventional tactics against him, I would surely die by his gun as well.

The canopy where I was crouching was very dense, a good hundred meters away from the Raven's position. Baba Tu, hidden in the woods on the opposite bank, must be scanning my direction with his sniper scope.

I immediately lowered my center of gravity, pressing my chest against the thick tree trunk, daring not to move again. The opponent's strength was on a completely different level from any of my previous formidable enemies. This guy was almost flawless, and those seemingly insignificant flaws were most likely traps; otherwise, why would Hanging Raven have opened fire so hastily?

A full hour passed before I dared to slightly lift the binoculars under my chin and peer at Hanging Raven's body.

The tree where Hanging Raven had been shot down was overgrown with dense water plants. I couldn't see his body buried in the grass, only the soles of his leather boots were vaguely obscured by the plants. Judging from this, most of Hanging Raven's body was probably embedded diagonally in the ditch.

The assassin on the opposite bank, after shooting Hanging Raven down, didn't fire a few more shots at his body, partly because the grass blocked their view, and partly because they were also wary of another sniper.

Actually, I don't know if Baba Tu knows he's been attacked by two snipers. If he does, he'll surely kill me; otherwise, he won't let it go.

Another hour passed, and the bright red sunrise had become blinding. Fortunately, the angle of the light was slanted towards the opposite bank, making it easy for the enemy's sniper scope to flash and reveal the imposter's identity. But how could Babatu make such a basic and fatal mistake?

I didn't know how many assistant assassins Babatu still had. If there were two or more, once I shot one, if the other was Babatu himself, he could shoot me in three seconds, with a high probability of hitting a vital spot. I

couldn't just leave Raven's body in the wilderness. I had to wait until dark to carry him back to the pickup truck and find a proper place to bury him. After all, without him, I probably wouldn't even know how I died.

As morning approached, the sun revealed its scorching nature, relentlessly baking everything. My body, lying on the tree trunk, was completely soaked with sweat, and Raven's feet still dangled motionless in the grass.

The water bottle was slung across my back; my throat was parched, but I dared not turn around to get a drink.

The Shebelle River was wide and straight, its current exceptionally swift. The blood in my brain, like the rushing river, was swirling in countless eddies.

This was the most dangerous battle I had faced since entering Somalia. Until now, I hadn't even seen Babatu, let alone seen his face or his bizarre tactics.

Chapter 319: The Middle Finger in the Valley
"Bang." Just as I lay on the tree, sweating profusely and filled with dread, a thin, dry white line of fire suddenly shot down from the valley top to the northwest, piercing the canopy of a large tree on the opposite bank like a sharp sword.

A body immediately fell from the thick layer of branches. I quickly raised my sniper rifle and peered into the valley from the scope.

A man with a shaved left side and a braided right side had already pointed his dark gun at my left eye, which was pressed against the sniper scope.

I trembled with fear, my blood seemed to freeze instantly in my veins, and a silent cry escaped my lips: "It's over."

Because I was already a fraction of a second slower than him; his rifle, like a wolf's jaws, had already seized me. If my index finger, hooked on the trigger, dared to move even slightly, the bullet would instantly shatter the scope and blow my eyeball out.

The verdant valleys on the opposite bank were now fully revealed in the blinding sunlight, their shapes resembling crowded seashells. Although I was 1,615 meters away from that man, I knew in my heart that my life hung in the balance on his index finger.

For three brief seconds, I completely forgot to breathe. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to tear open my throat and leap out to escape.

I forcefully suppressed every nerve in my muscles, not daring to let this tremor reach my index finger on the trigger.

However, the other man hesitated to fire. He seemed determined to drain the last drop of blood from my soul with this terror, until I was completely withered like a scarecrow against a tree trunk.

A thick, strong middle finger was reflected in my pupil pressed against the sniper scope. That guy was actually conveying his contempt with a defiant gesture. When he raised his large, square face, resembling a python skin, I suddenly realized. He was none other than the Heaven-Shaking Slave, one of the eight legendary assassins.

"Phew!" The breath I'd been holding in my chest, which I thought would finally escape to another world, was completely released after all the scare. I pulled back the foot that was about to step into the gates of hell.

Although Hantiannu was a killing partner hired by Xuanya at great expense, I couldn't help but feel annoyed. From the skin color of his fingers, I could tell he was white, though I didn't know which continent he was from. But the middle finger he gave me was particularly meaningful.

Xuanya had already told Hantiannu my personal information so he could distinguish friend from foe and avoid accidentally harming his allies, and also to facilitate coordinated operations, allowing us to formulate tactics based on our respective strengths. However, Hantiannu gave me a very unfriendly and intimidating welcome from the moment we met.

He seemed to be warning me not to think I was so great in Southeast Asia, and that if I crossed him and fought him, this "killing machine" wouldn't even know how I died.

This was the fourth formidable assassin I'd encountered since meeting Xuan Ya and Lian Qiutong. His middle finger, though arrogant and disrespectful, had somehow managed to quickly pinpoint my location and instantly kill me, demonstrating the strength behind that contempt.

Han Tiannu retracted his aggressive middle finger, then pointed his index and middle fingers at his eyes, poked twice at the trees on my side, and circled his thumb and other four fingers.

At this moment, the bigger picture was paramount. As long as things progressed towards the ultimate goal, I didn't need to care about such pointless "insults."

Han Tiannu's meaning was clear: he was telling me that the guy he'd knocked down from the tree wasn't Babatu, and the real Babatu was lurking in the trees behind me.

Babatu's unpredictability and adventurousness astonished me. Hearing that Xuan Ya and I were being held back by the warlord's guards' fierce firepower, he ordered two of his deputies to swim to the other side and exchange fire with Xuan Ya and me across the river.

This inevitably created a smokescreen of both sides holding their positions on opposite banks, and Babatu himself was lurking behind me and Xuan Ya. Was he planning to sneak up a tree from behind, dagger in hand, and kill us alive?

The thought sent chills down my spine, and cold sweat broke out on my back. The warlord guards who had rushed into the mudflats to search during the night had probably already been slaughtered one by one by Babatu; otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to lurk behind us.

Behind me were trees of similar height, densely covering the riverbank. Babatu was probably lurking in one of those thick canopies, waiting for his chance to hunt me down.

It seemed that only Babatu was still alive. His two henchmen were already formidable fighters; one could only imagine how skilled Babatu must be.

I remained hidden in the treetop, afraid to make any sudden movements. Meanwhile, Hantiannu was still lying beneath a palm tree at the top of the valley, using a pile of stones to block the shooting angle from the forest on the opposite bank. Unexpectedly, this half-bald, half-braided fellow was twitching his mouth, seemingly leisurely eating something.

Hantiannu's shot was incredibly expensive; Xuanya had given him so much money in his lifetime, and now he had only fired one shot and was ignoring the rest.

The sun on the river was approaching two o'clock in the afternoon, the hottest time of day. Staying like this wasn't a solution, but with Babatu lurking behind me, I dared not rashly climb down to escape.

"Bang!" A muffled gunshot suddenly rang out from the muddy forest behind me. At first, it sent chills down my spine; I thought a bullet was flying towards me. However, a second muffled gunshot immediately calmed my terrified nerves.

Although the shots were a little further away, I could tell that the two shots came from different places. "Bang, bang." Two more shots rang out, and the despair I felt earlier vanished instantly with the sound of two constantly moving gunfire in the distance.

It was clearly two snipers, running and exchanging fire. Thinking this, hope surged back into my chest. I quickly grabbed my binoculars and looked towards the body of the raven. The two feet that had been vaguely buried in the grass were nowhere to be seen.

Finally, I could confirm that there were no enemies lurking in the dense canopy behind me. I was both surprised and delighted. I hurriedly grabbed my rifle from a branch and slid down the thick trunk.

Following the intense, rapid gunfire, I leaped forward like a rabbit released from its rope. Whether the raven was chasing Babatu or being chased by Babatu, I was determined to flank the two men's battle to the left and seize the opportunity to kill Babatu with a single shot.

The trees around me gradually lowered. Clutching my long sniper rifle, I kept my center of gravity low to prevent the drooping branches from scratching my cheeks, especially my eyes.

Chapter 320: The Living Mud Doll in the Low Grove

The soil beneath my military boots began to loosen and soften, with muddy ditches four or five meters wide, like the stripes on a zebra. Although they weren't deep, they still delayed me as they lay in front of me.

At this moment, I dared not waste another second. The tangled low trees on either side of me had already become black shadows as I sprinted past.

The deeper I rushed into the muddy forest, the more ditches appeared that blocked my path. Using the momentum generated by my rapid running, I pushed off hard with my feet, squeezing and leaping across.

After all, humans don't have wings, not even the wings of a domestic goose that can't fly but can glide for a few meters. Moreover, some ditches were nearly ten meters wide. My feet repeatedly fell into waist-deep mud and water, so I held my rifle high and waded through the murky water to the bank.

Only now did I understand how sharp Hanging Crow's eyes were. If Heaven-Shaking Slave could accurately detect me, it was because he was high above, analyzing the terrain to pinpoint my approximate hiding place.

If a bird flew past the tree I was disguised as, its straight gliding, a sudden jerk, a rapid swerve, or an increase in altitude would expose me. Of course, only someone with Heaven-Shaking Slave's strength could detect such subtle and fleeting changes. Hanging Crow

's strength was like a bottomless abyss. In ordinary battles, he only revealed a level of strength and technique superior to his opponents. As the saying goes, a gentleman does not easily reveal his edge. If he used his ultimate technique against a mere monkey soldier, he would probably be close to death.

After interacting with these high-end assassins from the headhunting market, I further understood that I had indeed been lenient with Hanging Crow in our first encounter. How many kinds of Hanging Crow's ultimate techniques were there, and how destructive each one was, I had no idea at all.

This was the second time I had teamed up with Xuan Ya to intercept an enemy. Every shot he fired seemed reckless, as if he were roughly guessing the enemy's location and intentionally exposing himself to the enemy. Yet, he was still alive, still living through so many years as an assassin.

The woods on the opposite bank were like layers of green curtains, but Xuan Ya accurately saw through his opponent's disguise. When he fired that shot from the big tree behind the riverbank, he must have considered that he would attract a line of fire, yet he still dared to fire his sniper rifle so "easily," truly a testament to his skill and daring.

Xuan Ya fell from the tree because, at the moment he hit his target, he realized he hadn't hit Baba Tu. In that split second, he suddenly realized that Baba Tu wasn't on the opposite bank, but lurking behind him.

At this moment, although Xuan Ya had killed an enemy, his position had also been exposed. To avoid being killed by Baba Tu behind him, he used the line of fire coming from the opposite bank to fall from the tree and feign death, thus escaping Baba Tu's hunt.

The other creature in the woods across the river hadn't yet swam over to examine the hanging crow's body, indicating they knew of my presence but couldn't detect my disguise.

As for me, if I hadn't obediently remained perched in the tree, intending to wait until nightfall to slip away and follow Baba Tu to another opportunity to shoot him, I would probably have been riddled with bullets from both sides.

I don't know how long the Heavenly Slave had been disguised at the valley top, but I remember on the way here in the pickup truck, the hanging crow gave a mysterious and confident smile, as if he had anticipated this situation.

Moreover, after feigning death by falling into the bushes and burying himself in the grass, the crow, having paralyzed the enemy for several hours, suddenly crept into the woods like a ghost to silently hunt down Babatu, whose attention was focused solely on me.

With these thoughts in mind, I knew I couldn't run in a straight line anymore, or I'd be stuck in the mud. Because I was running with my back bent low, my vision was extremely low, and I could already see the crow's leaping feet through the undersides of the low trees.

Babatu was fleeing southeast; he already knew that all his henchmen were dead, and now three assassins were chasing him alone. At this point, Babatu would certainly not be interested in fighting; escape was the best option.

The situation had turned in my favor. Following the direction the crow was chasing, I accelerated again and cut diagonally forward. If the muddy woods ahead became more humid, all three of us—one fleeing and two chasing—could potentially step into the mud and die. Even so, Babatu had to run for his life, and the crow and I had to chase for our lives.

Babatu absolutely cannot escape back to the Sea Demon alive. The death of the Love Prisoner has already made Jason Jody suspicious. If this guy gets away, the risk to the women on the ship will increase instantly.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Raven leaped left and right, dodging the dark mud pits while firing at Babatu.

With each shot Raven fired, I held onto hope; it certainly wasn't blind firing. But Babatu was extraordinary, naturally possessing skillful dodging techniques.

"Bang, bang." As Raven and I chased after him, two intense lines of fire shot from the valley at one o'clock, heading straight for the rapidly fleeing Babatu.

With the assistance of a long-range sniper rifle from above, Babatu was in even more trouble. The low trees ahead were getting denser, like rows of wooden fences. Although the distance to Babatu had closed, his vision was completely blocked.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The Heavenly Slave had just been on the mountaintop across the river; how could he have climbed to the summit of the highest valley to the south in such a short time?

Who was the guy who shot Babatu? If he was the Heavenly Slave, then who was the guy who gave me the middle finger?

Thinking this, the Raven, who had been chasing and firing on the left flank, suddenly vanished without a trace.

I suddenly realized that a third party had appeared, as perceived by both sides. Without thinking further, I plunged into the thin muddy ditch beside me and swam towards the low-lying shrubbery.

Although someone had attacked Babatu, who knew if, after he was killed, it would be my turn or the Raven's turn to be shot in the mud.

"Huff, huff huff huff..." Like a sticky, living clay figure, I slowly floated from the ditch, filled with withered branches and leaves, to the bottom of the shrubbery before daring to slowly peek out to breathe.

I smeared mud all over my face with my muddy hands before I could barely open my eyes. At this point, besides my eye sockets, my ears and nostrils were filled with muddy liquid, the stench of decay incredibly strong.

I broke off a thin twig and used the hook-like end to hook my sniper rifle.

Because of the urgency of the situation, I hadn't had time to cover the muzzle with a condom before going into the water, so I simply threw the weapon nearby.

The twig, like a newborn snake, cautiously reached for the sniper rifle lying across the ditch.

Once I retrieved my weapon, I quickly pulled the bolt, the long barrel quietly protruding from under the low bushes, the muzzle aimed at the southernmost valley.

Chapter 321: Encountering the Mud Escape Technique

Lush green mountain grass, like animal fur, covered the stone walls. The valley top was saddle-shaped, with many tall and short sea jasmine trees and large-leaved green palm trees making the mountaintop look like the hair standing on end after an electric shock.

Through the sniper scope, the T-shaped crosshair slowly moved from left to right, beginning to capture the camouflaged opponent. According to the scale on the scope, the opponent was firing at the mud forest from a distance of 2,100 meters, indicating this person was no ordinary individual.

My sniper rifle could only see some dense vegetation; occasionally, when the wind blew from the valley top, the leaves, full of green sap, would tremble and shine, diffusing dazzling sunlight.

Furthermore, many large rocks bulged out of the mountaintop, covered with vines, making it difficult to see the shooter's face in a short time.

After a long while, the crow on the left flank still hadn't fired the expected shot, and Babatu, running ahead of the mud forest, seemed to have vanished in an instant.

Fortunately, the dense canopy of trees provided cover, preventing the snipers lurking in the valley from continuing their firing despite the terrain's advantage.

The speed with which the Raven hid indicated that the shooter in the southernmost valley wasn't the Skybreaker; the Raven must have known the Skybreaker's ambush location beforehand.

If the opponent was another valiant general hired by the Sea Demon, why would he shoot at his own comrade?

All these speculations ultimately led to only one possibility: that guy was very likely the Pirate King's protector: Water of Fate. If the opponent was indeed Water of Fate, then the Pirate King must have planted a trusted confidant on the Pirate Demon before his departure.

The old commander, trapped between the two rivers of Somalia, having learned of Babatu's assassination attempt, had Water of Fate preemptively strike, catching the enemy off guard and eliminating Babatu, who was throwing sand into his bowl. But neither the Raven nor I knew this information beforehand.

The sniping position chosen by Mingzhongshui was the same as the location Xuanya had selected. These assassins, both renowned generals, shared the same strategic vision.

Mingzhongshui must have been lying in ambush for some time. If he had been high up in the valley, this mysterious figure would have been watching us when Xuanya and I approached in our brightly lit truck at night.

Hantiannu, who had been so arrogant and self-assured, probably only now realized that his head had been aimed at by Mingzhongshui's sniper line several times.

Only now did Mingzhongshui fire and kill Babatu, seemingly understanding the situation. Although he didn't understand why Xuanya and I also wanted to kill Babatu, at least our interests were aligned.

Hantiannu should be grateful for his first shot; he killed Babatu's henchman. If that arrogant guy had fired at me then, becoming a suspect in Babatu's scheme, Mingzhongshui's two shots would have hit Hantiannu in the head.

Only when Mingzhongshui realized that the three of us were in cahoots, all aiming to kill Babatu, did he take advantage of the high ground to fire. Even if the distance was too great to kill Babatu with a single shot, it could at least slow down his escape and help Xuanya and me catch up with him.

I stood under a low tree in the ditch, the thin muddy water reaching my chest, the dense branches hanging down from the treetop completely covering me. The sniper rifle scope still couldn't detect anything unusual on that hilltop.

There was still no movement from Xuanya's side. We both knew that Mingzhongshui's disguised sniping position must have a huge rock to his left, blocking the fire from the Hantiannu on the top of the valley to the north.

By this time, Xuanya and I had run into the muddy grove, and the terrain here was flat, formed by river alluvium. It was easy to imagine that Mingzhongshui looked at us like he was standing in his own house, looking at two small fish in a fish tank on the coffee table. He could reach into the water and kill them at any time if he wanted to.

The mud forest environment is unique, unlike other places. Running here means stepping into mud with every step, making a squelching sound—it's like running on magnets while wearing iron shoes. It's also extremely difficult to retaliate at higher ground.

Shui's plan was too clever; he clearly waited until I and Xuan Ya chased him into this awkward terrain before shooting at Baba, demonstrating that we shared common interests and might cooperate.

However, Xuan Ya suddenly disappeared and hid, simultaneously signaling me to hide quickly. Obviously, given the passive situation where the enemy could easily kill us while we had little chance of retaliation, neither Xuan Ya nor I would accept this agreement.

None of us knew what kind of person Mingzhongshui was, but we couldn't risk our lives as a "litmus test."

Xuanya's hesitation to fire meant he was waiting—waiting for Hantiannu to move quickly after hearing the gunshot, waiting for one of us three to have a sniper rifle to lock onto Mingzhongshui, so that our "cooperative game" of hunting Babatu could continue.

If Mingzhongshui killed Babatu and then fired at Xuanya and me, who were hiding in the mud forest, then Hantiannu would fire at him. We could only cooperate while keeping each other in check; otherwise, we'd just stay put.

But the most anxious person was me. I wished I had a telepathic ability to let Mingzhongshui, disguised on the valley roof, know that our killing of Babatu wasn't out of competition among headhunters, or to win the commission for assassinating the Pirate King. If he knew my predicament, he would understand that we were essentially protecting the Pirate King for free, protecting Mingzhongshui's livelihood.

The harsh reality is cruel. I can't communicate with the Water of Fate. God has given us terrifying weapons and the skills to fight, but our instinct for telepathic communication is extremely limited. So, God is sitting in his rocking chair, secretly laughing.

This time-wasting killing pact only gives Babatu a chance to escape, while I can only stand under the rotting muddy ditch and wait, not daring to risk showing myself again.

More than an hour has passed, and I estimate that the Heavenly Slave has reached a position where he can control the Water of Fate. I slowly withdrew my sniper rifle and began to observe the position of the left flank, the Hanging Raven. There, apart from the filthy muddy ditches and the crooked weeds, there was no sign of anyone under the dense, endless low trees.

In these conditions of severely obstructed vision, the sniper rifle is no longer effective in combat, because all three of us have buried ourselves in the muddy ditches, and no one dares to stand up and walk. We can only crawl like crocodiles, searching for our target.

Time was ticking away. I had to return to the Buale Apartments tonight; otherwise, the guards would notice the building was deserted and report it to the Sea Demon.

Chapter 322: Bark Straws.

Using the time I had been waiting, I used my dagger to cut many branches, blasting them into camouflage and draping them over my back. I began crawling deeper into the mud forest towards Baba Tu's hiding place. As long as I paid attention to the density of the branches overhead, it would be difficult to see anyone's movements in the distant valley.

The sniper rifle on my back had its barrel sealed with a condom. I crawled along the edge of the ditch, digging into the mud with my hands while constantly sensing the viscosity of the mud to reduce the risk of sinking.

After crawling about a hundred meters southeast, I felt the mud become increasingly wet and soft. If I continued crawling until the mud was as diluted as liquid water, I could swim away and escape.

However, as the mud thinned until it became liquid water, there was a transitional zone of soft, runny mud, like sesame paste. Even if Babatu was incredibly skilled, he couldn't possibly cross this man-eating swamp and escape into the river.

The further I crawled forward, the greater my fear became. The crisscrossing muddy ditches resembled countless intertwined giant pythons mating, and the mud's consistency became increasingly irregular. I not only had to be careful of the tree canopy overhead for cover, but also watch my own body; one slip and I'd fall into a mud pit and suffocate.

The wild birds near the shrubbery had long since fled their nests, frightened by the gunshots. Only small creatures like water spiders, toads, and mudfish remained in the muddy puddles, busy with their own lives, hopping and skipping about, seemingly oblivious to us.

I squeezed my eyelids hard, breaking off the dried mud, and began to survey my surroundings. The closer I got to the enemy, the greater my chance of seeing them; conversely, the greater the chance of being seen by them.

Suddenly, I noticed a muddy ditch to my left. About twenty-five meters away, several green toads were hopping and leaping about erratically.

At first glance, I saw nothing, but when I peered again at a thirty-degree angle, I saw a slanted tree branch slowly moving.

The branch was covered in yellow mud, about the thickness of a knitting needle, and less than forty centimeters long. Instantly, my cerebellum throbbed; I knew what it was.

While I and the crow hid, Babatu used his dagger to cut a section of the branch. Using his index finger and thumb, he twisted it, separating the bark from the branch's core. Then, holding the core at one end with his teeth, he slowly hollowed out the branch, creating a makeshift straw.

Babatu knew that if he ran any further southeast, he would be forced into a mud pit and suffocate. So, taking advantage of the brief opening, he unexpectedly swam into the mud ditch and circled around to the right flank of the crow, trying to return to the pursuer's rear between me and the crow.

In this way, the further the crow moved forward, the greater the distance between us became. Babatu's "mud escape technique" was turning the speed of his pursuer's attack into his own escape speed.

However, because the mud ditches were scattered haphazardly, I had to choose to crawl under the dense, leafy low trees, which led to my unexpected encounter with Babatu.

Watching him slowly approach, and with my sniper rifle unable to hit the target in the depression in the ground, I had no choice but to draw an FN57 pistol and slowly crawl diagonally towards the point where the two met.

After crossing a row of low trees, I climbed onto a raised patch of muddy grass. Just then, a small, shovel-shaped mirror suddenly appeared beneath the moving bark straw, using the refraction of light to scan the surroundings.

I didn't immediately hide; the small mirror spun around once and then quickly disappeared. This made the situation tricky.

The other party wasn't an ordinary person. Babatu wouldn't immediately retreat after shining the small mirror on me, because such an action would indicate he had already discovered me. After retracting the small mirror, the breathing tube, which had been tilted on the muddy ground, slowly moved forward again, at the same rhythm as before, showing no signs of panic or confusion.

This made me conflicted, yet I had to be cautious. Had Babatu genuinely not seen me, or was it a deliberate trap to lull me into a false sense of security? There was still no sign of the crows. Had he really gone deeper into the mud forest?

At this moment, I could no longer follow this route, which might have been discovered, to meet Babatu in the ditch. I had to find another ditch and intercept my opponent at the next confluence.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..." I struggled to move my limbs, which were clinging to the grass, back to the original muddy ditch, and then swam back along its edge.

When I slightly raised my head again to peer into the ditch twenty-five meters away, the slanted bark straw had stopped moving, like a weed growing on the ground.

To ensure safety, I bit a sharp dagger in my mouth beforehand and continued to approach the straw along the edge of the ditch.

The sun above the mud forest cast countless jagged beams of light, and the murky mud evaporated under the sunlight, releasing a pungent, nauseating stench.

As I tensed every nerve in my body, less than four meters from the tree bark straw, I braced myself with both hands on the ground and pushed off with my legs, like a cat leaping into the air to pounce on a cricket. In that instant of airborne victory, the dagger, which had been clenched between my teeth, was already in my left hand, its sharp tip pointing downwards, ready to be swung fiercely.

"Thwack, thwack, thwack!" Baba Tu's bite on the tree bark straw must have been near his head, so I estimated the area to be his back and stabbed him three times into the muddy water. The blade of the sharp dagger was about twenty-five centimeters long; if it hit its target, it would surely pierce through Baba Tu's chest and back.

This unstoppable series of stabs was not even finished when my heart sank. The feeling of the muddy water slapping against my wrist told me that the enemy's body was no longer under the tree bark straw.

In that split second, before the mud splattered back into the water, I felt a splash on the muddy surface to my right. A sharp white light flashed within a clump of yellowish-brown muddy shadow, aimed straight for my neck.

I leaned forward sharply, dodging the fatal blow, and grabbed the wrist of the attacker with my left hand, which had almost grazed the back of my head. Just as I had seized Baba Tu's arm, the dagger in his other hand, still covered in mud, stabbed straight for my leaning chest.

I quickly dropped the pistol in my left hand and grabbed the wrist of the attacker holding the second knife. With a "snap," although I stopped the enemy's horizontal thrust, the explosive force of his attack was truly ferocious. I felt a sharp pain in my chest as the sharp tip of his knife cut a ten-centimeter gash. If it weren't for my incredible brute strength, which allowed me to withstand the attack, the knife would have penetrated ten centimeters into my flesh.

I gritted my teeth and, using my hard forehead, slammed it into Babatu's nose with a loud "thud," causing him to stagger backward before I could fully twist his arms to my chest.

As he fell backward, one of his feet, submerged in the murky mud, suddenly shot up, the thick, hard heel of his military boot slamming into my chin with a loud "clang." Instantly, the pain made my vision blur, my head spin, and I felt nauseous.

I managed to free my grip on his arms, and Babatu's entire body fell backward into the mud. I, too, was caught in his powerful kick and landed in the muddy water.

Against someone with considerable hand-to-hand combat skills, at a distance of only four or five meters, even a pistol at your waist is no longer practical; from drawing the gun to aiming and firing, it takes at least 1.5 seconds.

In such a short fighting distance, a dagger and grappling techniques can take down an attacker with a single blow in less than a second. So neither Babatu nor I drew our guns; I didn't even dare waste time drawing my second dagger.

After we got up, like two frogs leaping and colliding, we pounced on each other again, gripping each other's triceps and biceps tightly, forehead to forehead, straining fiercely.

"Hmph, hmph..." Mud and water rolled down our hair and cheeks. Our two ferocious faces, baring teeth and snarling, stared at each other with malice.

At that moment, we were like two lions clinging to the carcass of a wildebeest, their throats rumbling with angry growls as they fought over the meat, neither willing to yield an inch.

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