Two legs are ultimately slower than wheels.
While Song Heping was still sprinting rapidly across the wild, unexpected trouble had already erupted in Uelda Village.
Three pickup trucks rudely screeched to a halt in the village's central clearing, engines still roaring, as over a dozen ferocious ard n jumped out.
One of the militants raised his hand and shot a burst into the sky.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
"Get out here! Quick!"
"Hand over the food and money! n stand to the left! Won to the right! Kids stay out of the way!"
Leading them was a burly man with a scarred face, swinging a sword around and roaring in a mix of broken Arabic and local dialect.
They were a newly risen ard faction from the nearby mountains, self-proclaid "Freedom Fighters," but in truth, they were rely bandits exploiting the chaos to loot, burn, and plunder.
Before the war, Siria had ample food supplies.
At its peak, Syria was renowned as the "Granary" of the Middle East.
The agricultural GDP accounted for up to 26%, with an annual wheat yield of 4.8 million tons, exporting 2 million tons, feeding the dostic population without issue, and even "fleecing" so foreign exchange from the international market.
But these past two years of raging warfare had turned agriculture into a chaotic stew.
Especially in northeast Siria, where governnt's scorched earth policy and anti-governnt ard forces sought to leave no survival path for the opposite side, resulting even in farmland devastation.
Forget about planting wheat; right now, many rural areas in Siria have nothing left but barren earth, beyond the yellow soil, there's nothing.
Uelda, in the northern wheat production area of Deir Ezzor, was amidst warfare, and further north, the wheat-producing areas fell into the hands of the Arican-backed Kurd forces, leading to severe food shortages in so southern towns and villages.
The flatbreads they once relied on for survival were now a luxury, with boiled wheat paste mixed with other grains being the best they could hope for, filling their stomachs just to survive was the greatest wish for most people.
When the world is chaotic, bandits arise.
It's easy to understand why these ard organizations, sprouting like bamboo shoots after rain, robbed food, money, and property.
Terror-filled cries instantly filled the small village.
The villagers were roughly herded from their hos, like lambs to the slaughter.
An elderly person moved a bit too slow, got knocked down by a rifle butt from one of the ard n, blood flowing freely. Several young won were dragged away, letting out heart-rending screams.
Two youths attempting resistance were forced to kneel at gunpoint.
Faris was shoved into the group of n, protecting the trembling Sayina tightly behind him, his face filled with desperate anger.
"Damn it! Is this all the food you've got? Trying to feed beggars?!"
The scarred-faced man kicked over a small half-bag of wheat the villager had handed over, scattering the grains across the ground.
His greedy eyes scanned the terrified won, licking his lips with a lecherous grin: "Brothers! Take all the won!"
The bandits erupted in beastly laughter, starting to pull at the won.
Crying, cursing, and sinister laughter mingled together.
anwhile, at the village's east side, Song Heping had already leaned against a mud wall, deftly pulling out his only weapon from his waist—a butterfly knife.
Because of the low-altitude parachute jump from Gelbi Mountain, to reduce weight and avoid accidents, Song Heping had discarded everything during the sprint, except for this small knife he had hidden on him.
The butterfly knife, as a close combat weapon, is the second essential tool for many Special Soldiers, not only easy to conceal but also extrely handy for killing.
He moved along the mud wall, the village was small to begin with, and now everyone had been driven to the center, leaving the houses empty.
The most important task now was to acquire a weapon.
He had to find a lone guy to target.
There were over a dozen opponents, rely relying on a butterfly knife would be insufficient.
Passing through a few houses, Song Heping quickly identified his target—a militant holding an AKM assault rifle standing at the village's road intersection, looking around.
He surveyed the surroundings.
Song Heping opted to climb over a courtyard wall into a villager's backyard, traversed the house and exited via the front door, approached the tall, thin guy from behind along the courtyard wall.
The opponent seed to hear footsteps, turning his head to see what made the noise.
No sooner had he turned his gaze, a butterfly knife pierced into his chin, directly penetrating the lower jaw, pinning the tongue and upper jaw together, like skewering a pig's tongue.
"Huh huh—"
The tall, thin figure's eyes bulged an inch, emitting strange sounds from his mouth, unable to call out.
As the butterfly knife pierced the opponent's lower jaw, Song Heping's other hand grabbed the handguard of the opponent's AKM, twisting—
The gun slipped out.
"Die..."
Song Heping pressed harder, directly pinning the opponent to the ground, the knife remained firmly embedded in the jaw.
At last, Song Heping withdrew the knife, slicing it effortlessly across the opponent's throat once the blade ca out.
Snap—
Blood sprayed instantaneously from the artery.
Song Heping ignored whether the opponent lived or not, retrieving the magazine from the tall, thin person's body and placing it on himself, then stood up and left.
At the village's central clearing.
A bandit's hand was just about to grab a young girl's hair, forcefully pulling her onto the truck.
Ping—
A crisp sound, like puncturing leather.
The bandit's temple suddenly exploded into a blood blossom, falling silent to the ground without a word.
"There's an enemy!"
The nearby bandit shouted in alarm, hastily readying his gun.
But the second and third soft pops followed almost imdiately!
Ping—
Ping—
Two more bandits pulling won took shots to the back of their heads, collapsing to the ground.
Precise!
Fatal!
Like the Grim Reaper's roll call!
"Take cover! Find shelter!"
The scarred-faced man exclaid in shock and anger, ducking behind a pickup truck, crazily firing towards the direction of the bullets—the rooftop of a mud-brick house at the village entrance.
"Da-da-da-da!" Bullets kicked up dust from the mud-brick house.
Chaos exploded instantly!
The villagers scread, scattering in all directions, seeking cover.
The bandits searched panic-stricken for the unseen enemy, firing blindly.
Song Heping rged into the shadows like a leopard, swiftly moving between the village's crude houses.
Each shot from the AKM assault rifle in his hands was brief and concealed.
He used corners, wood piles, and even baskets discarded by the villagers as cover, each ti he erged, accompanied by a sharp gunshot and a bandit falling.
A bandit spotted him, tried turning the gun, but Song Heping had already tactically rolled behind the well, simultaneously firing a shot.
Ping—
The bullet accurately pierced the gap under the opponent's gun-holding arm, entering the heart.
"He's over there!"
Another bandit pointed toward the well, shouting, his words cut off.
Ping—
A bloody hole appeared in his forehead.
Fear started spreading among the bandits.
They couldn't catch a glimpse of Song Heping's position, only seeing their comrades mysteriously falling one after another.
So broke down, frantically firing towards suspecting directions, stray bullets injuring hiding villagers, bringing more harrowing cries.
Scarred-face's eyes reddened as he saw Faris and Sayina hiding behind a low wall, nastily smiling while raising his sword: "Damn it! Let's have a few kills as offerings!"
He charged toward Faris.
Just as the scarred-face was only steps away from Faris and his daughter, sword raised high—
Song Heping's figure flashed out like a ghost from the shadow of a house's side!
He didn't fire because Sayina was right behind.
AKM bullets at close range easily penetrate bodies causing accidental injury.
He dashed toward the scarred-face like an arrow, at a speed too fast for the opponent to react!
Snap!
A jarring crack!
Song Heping's left hand clamped the scarred-face's knife-wielding wrist like an iron vise, instantly twisting it apart.
anwhile, his right hand struck upward like a hamr, crashing into the scarred-face's jaw!
"Ugh!"
Scarred-face's scream was only audible halfway, the entire jaw shattered and deford, blood and teeth spraying crazily, his massive body collapsing with a thud, twitching twice before going still.
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