Chapter 47: Now We're Well-Stocked with Ammunition

As soon as the gunfire rang out, He Weixin—hiding among the crowd as mere cannon fodder—instantly crouched with his gun in hand, utterly terrified.

On the other side stood the merciless witch, who could shoot a man square in the head without so much as blinking—utterly inhuman.

It was only when he regained his senses that he noticed the rope bridge ahead had collapsed.

Seeing this, He Weixin silently cheered Su Miao in his heart.

With the rope bridge destroyed, he wouldn’t have to force himself to the front lines, hiding among these desperate refugees.

But soon, He Weixin sensed something was amiss.

Only a handful had immediately crouched down after the gunshot.

Most of the refugees were in a panic, clutching their heads and scattering in all directions—more concerned with finding cover than simply dropping down.

Would those crouched among them be spotted by the maniac from Villa 36?

They most certainly would!

A chill shot through He Weixin as he dared not stand; instead, he scrambled and crawled along the wall, blending himself into the chaos, desperate to escape.

At that moment, Su Miao stood at the window, her magical spatial array deployed as she watched the people across the ruined bridge.

Her aim was to sever the rope bridge, preventing anyone from crossing.

But she noticed those few who had dropped down too swiftly—revealing the guns in their hands.

Without hesitation, Su Miao fired several shots, dropping six men in quick succession.

Two of them managed to escape in the confusion, causing injuries among the nearby refugees, but none escaped her notice.

He Weixin, one of the lucky survivors, pressed himself against the wall, his clothes soaked, his body trembling uncontrollably—whether from cold or fear, he could not tell.

Two of his brothers lay dead, shot before his eyes.

Regret gnawed at him.

Why had he spoken out of turn?

With the immediate threat across the ravine dealt with, Su Miao counted her remaining ammunition: 301 rounds of 7.62mm for her AK47, and 105 rounds of 5.56mm for her M416.

With so many enemies, it was nowhere near enough.

She glanced again toward the rope bridge. “Xiao An, keep watch here. I’m going downstairs.”

Su Miao made her way to the second-floor landing, removed the cabinet blocking the stairwell, and proceeded to the first floor.

For safety, she first blocked the main door with a haphazard barricade of cabinets, securing her position before descending cautiously to the remains of Yan Xi, leader of the 12th Combat Unit.

Earlier, fearing someone might barge in, she hadn’t dared to search the body.

Now, with precious time won and the villa’s perimeter seemingly secure, Su Miao could finally scavenge for supplies.

Another AK47—this one fitted with a two-times scope.

A fine find!

The gun was still fully loaded.

Not far from the body lay a backpack. Inside, 600 rounds of 7.62mm ammunition.

Su Miao’s eyes lit up.

At last, her ammunition woes were solved.

The bag also held six bombs the size of sweet potatoes—perfect for lobbing when the need arose.

A curved dagger, shaped like a tree branch, gleamed with a deadly edge.

A canteen, a roll of bandages, two packs of compressed biscuits.

A wallet.

No cash, just some receipts and a photograph—a little girl smiling from a hospital bed.

She had no use for these.

Blinking, Su Miao returned the wallet and canteen to the body.

Once the battle ended, she would carry all the corpses outside, offering a simple mud-and-rain burial for the fallen.

Finishing her search, Su Miao felt an unexpected sense of joy.

Perhaps this was the real world.

It was more exhilarating than any game.

She hurried back up to the third floor, her body trembling—this time, from happiness.

“Big sister, they’re gathering people to move supplies, trying to block off the mudslide area and build a makeshift path,” Xia Xiao’an reported. “Some people are approaching from behind the mountain.”

Su Miao glanced outside.

After a month of torrential rain, the mudslide zone had nearly become a massive ravine.

The gully was filled with raging water streaming from the mountain and both banks, its current growing ever stronger.

If they tried to cross by blocking off part of the area, they risked triggering another mudslide or flash flood.

Su Miao led Xia Xiao’an to the rear of the villa, opening every window as before.

Behind Villa 36 stood two other villas, spaced about a hundred meters apart.

Beyond them was a three-meter-high wall, already breached near the mudslide, where trees lay sprawled in disarray.

Above that, a slope carved by the landslide rose steeply—treacherous ground, where any misstep meant falling to one’s doom.

“There, big sister—they’re over there,” Xia Xiao’an pointed.

Following her direction, Su Miao activated her magical spatial array, leveled her AK47, and took aim.

Bang!

The first head that appeared was blown apart.

Within three seconds, two more tried to sneak up, thinking they were well covered; Su Miao fired twice more, killing them both.

Li Mingtian, commander of the 10th Combat Unit, watched in horror.

The Villa 36 defenders were simply monstrous.

Fighting in these mountainous, rain-soaked conditions was difficult enough without the weather. Yet the enemy picked off his men one by one, killing three in the blink of an eye.

“What now, Captain?” a team member asked.

They dared not show themselves, forced to take cover behind the slope or boulders.

“Wait,” Li Mingtian replied.

The boss had said that, apart from the 1st and 2nd Combat Units, all other teams would join the fray.

He had no intention of repeating Yan Xi’s mistake—leading his entire unit to a pointless death. Lose your life, and you lose everything.

Soon, the 3rd, 6th, and 7th Combat Units arrived.

The group leaders gathered, exchanging uneasy glances.

Who would take point? That was the question.

“Old Li, the boss has high hopes for you. I won’t compete for the honor—lead the assault,” one said.

“That’s right, Old Li. Of all our teams, yours is the best armed, the strongest,” another chimed in.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Li Mingtian snapped. “Either find a way to take that position or stay out here in the rain and catch a cold for all I care.”

He showed no patience for their excuses—they were all in this together.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already made arrangements on the way here,” said Bai Rui, leader of the 6th Combat Unit, gesturing behind.

On the muddy mountain path, hundreds of refugees struggled forward, carrying planks, cabinets, and sandbags.

“We’ll have these expendables lay the path up front. One unit suppresses the defenders here, while the other three flank and seize the two villas on either side,” Bai Rui explained.

“Then, we’ll have a real shot at blowing Villa 36 to the sky!”

…

“Big sister, there are a lot of people coming up the mountain—all the refugees from the resort area,” Xia Xiao’an said, her voice trembling. “They look like they’re up to something dangerous.”

Su Miao gazed out into the rain-soaked forest.

With the enemy refusing to show themselves, she felt at a disadvantage.

Suddenly, she recalled something: in the Middle East, wedding celebrations often ended in tragedy, with revelers firing into the sky—only for the bullets to fall and kill guests below.

Could she try the same tactic?

Even if they stayed hidden, she could still make them pay.