Super Strong Little Divine Farmer

Chapter 944: Chapter 945: Jungle Raid

Under the moonlit night, Lin Chen and Zhao Xiaohua’s silhouettes darted swiftly through the dense forest.

At first, the distance to the bridge was still far, so the two didn’t need to worry about exposure, pushing their speed to the limit.

Only faint shadows could be seen in the jungle, leaping and dodging between trees.

As they got closer to the bridge, their pace began to slow.

However, like two phantom-like figures, they alternated between quick and slow movements, evading the sentries’ line of sight.

Zhao Xiaohua kept her eyes on Lin Chen, who was keeping pace with her, and couldn’t help but marvel in her heart.

She knew that she had already pushed herself to her limits, yet Lin Chen managed to match her stride.

Moreover, Lin Chen’s agility and evasive maneuvers were no less capable than her own.

What surprised Zhao Xiaohua even more was Lin Chen’s exceptional observational skills.

Every time they were on the verge of being discovered, Lin Chen would react with lightning speed.

At this moment, Lin Chen was equally impressed with Zhao Xiaohua.

After all, his Spiritual Energy was abundant, allowing him to sustain such high-speed movement across long distances.

Yet during this prolonged sprint, Zhao Xiaohua showed no signs of weariness—her breath steady, her face calm, and her pace every bit as swift.

Both crouched in the tall grass; they had now infiltrated the hostile camp and could even hear the voices of their adversaries.

”I’ll take care of the sentries outside first, then come back to support you,” Zhao Xiaohua whispered.

Lin Chen nodded cautiously and began moving forward stealthily.

Crouched in the grass, Lin Chen observed that the enemy camp was situated by the riverside, with twelve people in total—eight drinking in the center of the camp and four standing sentries around the perimeter.

In the freshly rain-soaked forest, the air was especially crisp.

Lin Chen moved carefully through the undergrowth and soon spotted a man in fatigues—an African soldier—resting on the trunk of a tall tree, his weapon in hand, seemingly dozing off.

A cold smirk tugged at Lin Chen’s lips. In a few flickering movements, he scaled the tree, climbing silently to a height of over ten meters, stopping right behind the unsuspecting Red Turban militant.

With one hand, he muffled the soldier’s mouth; with his other, he drew a swift stroke.

A crimson streak of blood cascaded down the militant’s neck.

The soldier convulsed briefly, his gaze filling with terror as he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Lin Chen carefully tied the soldier’s body to the tree and leapt down, heading straight for his next target.

Under another tree stood another Red Turban militant; a cigarette dangled from his lips as he poured whiskey into his mouth.

Suddenly, a silver needle flew out from the bushes, piercing straight into the militant’s throat. Before he could even react, the whiskey bottle fell to the ground with a thud, and he slumped against the tree dead.

Just then, the soldier’s radio crackled to life.

”Duo Ya, you drunkard, are you passed out again? Get up quick; it’s time to change shifts.”

Lin Chen frowned as he picked up the soldier’s rifle and climbed a nearby tree.

At that moment, the sound of chaotic gunfire erupted from the other side of the forest—Zhao Xiaohua had clearly made her move.

The soldiers in the camp scrambled to grab their weapons and sprang to their feet at the sound.

”Bang!” A crisp gunshot echoed.

A Red Turban soldier collapsed instantly, a bullet lodged in his forehead.

The remaining soldiers exchanged panicked looks before scattering to find cover.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Lin Chen pulled the trigger on his rifle; bullets burst in rapid succession, taking down four Red Turban soldiers almost instantaneously.

Just then, Lin Chen’s gaze sharpened. With a swift movement, he leapt down from the tree.

Almost simultaneously, a bullet struck the exact spot where he had been perched moments before.

Lin Chen furrowed his brow, instantly deducing that the enemy sniper had locked onto him.

Though Lin Chen had evaded the sniper’s shot, the bullet had revealed the sniper’s position.

His movements became as elusive as shadows as he swiftly approached the sniper’s location.

The remaining Red Turban soldiers began firing wildly while cautiously advancing toward Lin Chen’s previous hiding spot.

But at that moment, the gunfire was met with suppressive firepower from Zhao Xiaohua, pinning the soldiers down and forcing them to duck for cover.

Meanwhile, the sniper, known as Charles, lay motionless atop a tree trunk, completely hidden beneath layers of leaves. Even if someone approached within arm’s length, spotting his concealment would be nearly impossible.

Charles was the top sniper of the Red Turban militia, with countless victories under his belt. His bullets, once fired, never missed their intended target.

But this time, for the first time in his career, Charles had failed.

He narrowed his eyes and scanned the woods meticulously through his sniper scope.

As a seasoned sniper, common sense dictated he should change his position after missing a shot.

But Charles was an exceptionally arrogant man.

Failure was intolerable to him, and he was determined to personally eliminate the threat that had tarnished his perfect record.

Suddenly, Charles spotted a flash of black fabric dart through the bushes. A cold smile crept across his face as he lined up his scope for another shot.

Frustratingly, the target moved too quickly, constantly obscured by tree trunks and dense foliage.

”Damn it! How is this guy moving so fast?”

Lin Chen closed the distance between himself and Charles’ hiding spot, and Charles began to panic.

Throwing precision out the window, Charles fired furiously, spraying bullets at any possible location where Lin Chen might be hiding.

”Bang! Bang! Bang!” The dull sound of the sniper rifle echoed throughout the jungle.

Then, without warning, the previously rustling bushes grew eerily still. The forest fell silent.

Clutching his rifle tightly, Charles slid down from the tree in retreat while scanning his surroundings.

Trusting his sniper instincts, Charles was certain Lin Chen must be close—somewhere nearby.

He began maneuvering carefully, eyes darting in every direction for any trace of Lin Chen.

Suddenly, Charles felt a gust of air behind him and reflexively spun around, pulling the trigger.

”Bang!”

The shot echoed, but his surroundings were empty.

”I’m up here!”

A cold voice rang out from above. Abruptly, a figure dove from the treetops, locking his knees around Charles’ neck and twisting sharply.

”Crack!”

With the sound of a vertebra snapping, Charles slumped to the ground, his eyes filled with unwilling defiance as life drained away.

Lin Chen grabbed the sniper rifle and climbed back up the tree, aiming at another hidden Red Turban soldier through the scope.

”Bang!” The gunshot rang out, and the soldier collapsed lifelessly on the spot.

Quickly shifting his aim, Lin Chen located another Red Turban leader hiding behind a tree, unwilling to show himself.

The soldier, trembling, held his radio frantically shouting for reinforcements.

Lin Chen squinted slightly, loaded another bullet, and fired directly at the base of the tree.

”Bang!” A bullet hole appeared on the trunk.

”Bang!” A second shot buried itself precisely within the same bullet hole.

”Bang! Bang! Bang!” Three consecutive shots followed; the final bullet tore through the tree, embedding itself squarely between the leader’s eyebrows.