Jack's decision to volunteer to harass these militants wasn't made on a whim.
First, consider the terrain. Palang, though called a town, is smaller than a typical village. Built along the coast, it's long and narrow from east to west, facing the sea to the south and slightly higher to the north.
The highway runs directly from the north to the town center, aning the town square is clearly visible from near the northern entrance — less than two kiloters away.
Coincidentally, his heavy sniper rifle has an effective range of exactly two kiloters against lightly armored units, and he has plenty of ammunition.
Second, consider the psychology. Radulan Sahiron, the Abu Sayyaf leader on Jolo Island, already sees the foreigners who crash-landed in the abandoned mine as his prize.
Although his advance force suffered a crushing defeat, and his trusted lieutenant perished, those who escaped provided him with ample intelligence.
His opponents appeared elite, but their numbers were limited, and they lacked heavy weapons and sustained firepower.
Radulan Sahiron's plan was easy to guess: this abandoned mine harbored over twenty foreigners, representing a potential profit of tens of millions of dollars.
With enough manpower and morale boosted, they could use the jungle for cover to surround the place, even if they couldn't break through.
They had more than ten tis the manpower; the advantage was theirs, and there was no possibility of defeat.
Therefore, according to Jack's estimation, no matter how cunning the old man was, he would never expect them to launch a preemptive attack, directly running to his lair twenty kiloters away and engaging in such a blatant sneak attack.
Sure enough, when the green-skinned modified Nissan pickup truck arrived outside Palang Town, the sentries on the town's watchtower were completely unaware, thinking it was one of their own.
"Stop right here."
Hearing Jack's command, Gaspare released the accelerator, jerked the steering wheel, and pulled the handbrake. The rear of the truck suddenly swung out, kicking up a cloud of dust, and the pickup truck spun 180 degrees before coming to a smooth stop.
"Don't turn off the engine." Jack warned, sticking his legs out of the window and grabbing the edge, nimbly vaulting onto the roof.
He watched himself jump from the roof into the back of the truck, retrieve a heavy sniper rifle from a box, and mount it on the machine gun mount.
In this world, the furthest sniper rifle kill distance is over 3,400 ters. These distances involve an elent of luck and require precise calculations, taking into account factors such as wind speed, gravity, and bullet trajectory.
Jack doesn't need any of that. First, he has skills to assist him; second, he's using an anti-materiel sniper rifle — the focus isn't on sniping, but on anti-materiel.
"Bang!"
The sentry killed by Jack's first shot was less than 50 ters from the pickup truck. One second he was looking at the suddenly stopped truck with confusion, and the next second his head was blown off.
A corpse with only a neck and jawbone attached fell heavily from the 10-ter-high wooden watchtower.
Bang! bang! Bang!
A series of booming sounds rang out.
From Jack's current position, he couldn't see the one-ard old man giving a speech, but through the scope, the crowd gathered together was clearly visible.
Unfortunately, because it was a high-ground shot, the heavy caliber rounds would penetrate two or three vulnerable bodies before going straight into the ground.
But that was enough. Although his sniping skills weren't at their highest level, Jack didn't need to be too accurate. He just needed to get enough bullets into the crowd as quickly as possible.
The excessively powerful large-caliber bullets created a bloodbath in the small square. Many people were completely unaware of what was happening before being killed by bullets that pierced through their comrades' bodies.
In fact, if they had been using a heavy machine gun now, due to recoil and distance, its killing efficiency might not have been as good as the heavy sniper rifle in Jack's hands.
He emptied two ten-round magazines in less than 15 seconds, and the militants in the town still hadn't realized where the attackers had co from.
By this ti, the central square of the town was a scene of carnage, with limbs flying through the air, spurting blood, and even fragnts of human tissue and organs.
From above, the square looked like a colorful canvas suddenly splashed with red ink, and then, as if an invisible paintbrush continued to sar it wantonly.
The areas of the canvas yet untouched by ink were heavily, stroke by stroke, outlined with radiating red patterns.
Click!
Jack inserted the sixth magazine, cast a healing spell on himself, and the people in the square finally reacted, fleeing this death trap.
After emptying another magazine, he loaded the second batch of ammunition he had brought, resting briefly. Even with his current physique, enduring the continuous recoil of an anti-materiel sniper rifle was taking its toll.
This was because the heavy sniper rifle wasn't welded to the machine gun mount, unlike a heavy machine gun which could utilize a mount to reduce recoil; they lacked the materials and the necessity.
Gaspare, half-exposed from the driver's seat and completely stunned, understood this perfectly, because Jack had fired in a standard sniper stance, the butt firmly against his shoulder.
Gaspare wasn't unfamiliar with heavy sniper rifles, but if he were to fire at that rate of fire, he figured his collarbone would definitely give in.
"Are you alright? Want to switch drivers?" At this distance, Gaspare couldn't see Jack's results, but judging from the town's chaotic reaction, a chase was imminent.
"I'm fine, just drive your car."
Jack cracked his neck, making two crisp snaps, and pointed his gun at the first pickup truck that sped out of town.
"Bang!"
An armor-piercing incendiary round struck the front of the truck, and flas erupted from the engine compartnt.
"Tsk, missed." Jack clicked his tongue in disappointnt.
He'd aid for the driver's seat. This multi-purpose round, penetrating armor, exploding, and incendiary in an instant — a true champion among bullets.
It is extrely effective against lightly armored targets, and its combustion performance is significant; a single impact on a 2mm thick steel plate can produce 20 fragnts.
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