Chapter 15: Master-Level Sniper

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In this world, there were no telephones or walkie-talkies; to achieve long-distance communication like a phone call, one had to rely on certain extraordinary individuals as intermediaries.

However, this did not mean the era lacked effective means of communication.

As the ambulance burst out of the hospital, steam whistles blew from the hospital rooftop.

As the vehicle advanced, the rooftops of other buildings along the road also sounded their whistles!

In an instant, one soldier after another began moving across the rooftops.

The buildings in this city were not very tall, mostly five or six stories.

Soldiers stood guard at intervals on the rooftops, where there were connection points with excellent visibility.

The scene felt somewhat like something out of Assassin’s Creed.

Many soldiers received the signal and spotted the ambulance carrying Robin and the others.

Bang, bang—

Steam-powered guns fired bullet after bullet toward the ambulance, the soldiers aiming for the tires and glass.

Whether they would hit was uncertain, but this wasn’t a movie; with so many firing, some shots were bound to land.

“Damn it, our vehicle’s armor isn’t strong enough to ignore bullets. Think of something—quick!” the driver shouted.

“A few more shots and the protective membrane will break!” Matthew’s face darkened.

Getting Robin out of the hospital was the first hurdle!

According to the plan, the ambulance should have driven away smoothly.

But now, they had been exposed right at the start, forcing them into a fight.

They had lost a young nurse inside the hospital, along with three male orderlies—a total of four people gone—and the remaining team was stretched thin.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want a more thorough plan, but the longer they delayed, the more variables arose, and these were the only resources they could mobilize.

“And they’ll mobilize the troops soon; we can’t let them keep tracking us,” the driver yelled. “If they bring out spike strips, we’re done for!”

Matthew pulled out several cloth-wrapped packages from under his seat and opened one, revealing a brass-colored rifle with numerous steam pipes attached, apparently to enhance its power.

“Hand me the gun!” Robin reached toward Matthew.

He didn’t want anyone else to die because of him; he had to contribute.

“Your wound isn’t healed yet...” Matthew frowned slightly.

“Hand me the gun!” Robin insisted.

Without hesitation, Matthew passed the rifle to him.

The strange sensation returned as Robin grasped the weapon—this time even clearer!

Robin felt it wasn’t just a gun but an extension of his limbs, a part of his own body!

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During months on the battlefield, Robin’s best weapon had been a sniper rifle. Though back then his intellect was low, he was purer in essence.

That purity had been etched deep into his very bones.

Matthew flipped a switch.

The sound of gears turning filled the ambulance, and as the internal mechanisms engaged, windows slid open. The vehicle appeared sealed, but now several fist-sized openings allowed gun barrels to protrude while the rest remained transparent glass.

This setup enabled those inside to observe outside and counterattack, with bulletproof glass protecting them from enemy fire.

Robin pulled the bolt back; the barrel aligned with one of the small openings, aiming at a soldier using binoculars to observe them.

Breathing in, Robin realized how far he could see...

With the help of the scope, he could see even farther...

The soldier had one foot resting on a low wall, body leaning forward, tightly gripping his binoculars and making slight movements to watch them.

A gentle breeze fluttered the soldier’s coat, seemingly enough to gauge the wind speed...

The soldier seemed to notice Robin as well; catching sight of the gun pointed in his direction, he smirked with amusement.

The vehicle was moving—surely he didn’t intend to shoot me?

Chewing gum, the soldier’s face wore a mocking smile as he observed and relayed information.

Robin held his breath, his hands steady as a mountain.

The vehicle’s movement made wind speed impossible to estimate, so calculating resistance or adjusting aim seemed unfeasible, yet...

Bang!

A muzzle flash erupted as a bullet flew through the small opening.

It cut through the air so swiftly that the observer didn’t even react before the bullet struck his chest!

The sniper rifle’s power was tremendous, punching a hole in his chest as if it had blasted through.

The soldier, still chewing gum, lowered his head in disbelief at the sizeable hole in his chest.

Clang!

His binoculars fell to the rooftop, one lens cracking, the other shattered, fragments scattering across the ground.

He collapsed softly to the side, stirring up dust.

One shot, one kill!

“Wow, such a cool shot—someone’s got real skill.”

At that moment, Robin seemed to hear a phantom voice.

Unlike the annoying voice in his dream, this time it was a woman’s voice?

Instinctively, Robin glanced at the nurse, still bowed in tears—obviously not her.

Could this voice be coming from the gun in my hand? The very gun’s voice from the dream?

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Is this the system’s golden finger? At least give me some hints!

“This...” Matthew’s eyes widened. “This is impossible!”

If they were outside, standing still, with a spotter to help gauge wind speed, Robin’s shots wouldn’t be surprising.

But the vehicle was moving; there was no way to sense wind changes, yet Robin had managed a perfect kill?

That had to be luck!

Until now, everyone had been fleeing and hadn’t noticed how precise Robin’s shooting was, thinking he only managed to drive off the soldiers on the rooftop and at the hospital door.

“Another one!” the driver shouted.

Robin steadied himself, no time to investigate the voice’s origin.

Bang!

He shifted the rifle’s aim and fired again; another spotter collapsed!

The distance was at least five hundred meters.

“This...” Matthew was stunned.

One lucky shot, maybe—but two?

Could this be the true value of the Silver Wing Medal?

No wonder they insisted on bringing him out even if everyone else fell here!

In truth, Robin himself didn’t understand his newfound precision; it seemed impossible.

It was a feeling beyond explanation or description.

Right now, he was probably stronger than any sniper in those legendary dramas!

Is this what a master-level sniper is like?

No, even the most accurate shouldn’t be this perfect...

At the Battle of Triangle Hill, the sniper known as the “Sniper God” used an M1944 Mosin-Nagant rifle with 442 bullets to kill 214 enemies—not every shot was a hit.

But those two shots just now? Before firing, Robin knew they would hit!

Could it be related to that voice?

“The alarm’s quieting down!” the driver exclaimed joyfully.

The spotters were the city’s guides, controlling where the alarms sounded.

With two spotters down, their tracking ability was severely weakened.

If they killed more enemies or prevented them from observing, they might have a chance!