Chapter 154 The Harvester

"Boom—"

"Rat-tat-tat-tat~~~"

"Boom—, Boom—"

When the gunfire finally subsided and the smoke and dust gradually cleared, the entire highway was left in ruins. Several armored vehicles lay overturned in the surroundings, and more than a dozen fighters clad in body armor were strewn across the ground.

Judging from the flags that had fallen by the roadside and were still smoldering, this was a suppression unit hailing from the United States.

Figures could be seen slowly and cautiously sliding down the hillsides on both sides before sprinting toward the accident site. After a brief bout of rummaging, they stood up and gestured to those around them.

Then, another wave of people stood up and charged toward the overturned convoy. Those who had arrived earlier began expertly stripping away equipment and looting cargo from the vehicles.

"Aren't you going? Those are all top-tier gear. Don't you want to grab a bulletproof vest?"

Li Hongshen listened as the young soldier beside him spoke in an excited tone, yet he showed no reaction whatsoever. Instead, he calmly took out a magazine, drew bullets from his pouch one by one, and slowly loaded them.

"Not going. Having a gun is enough for me, and going over there right now is too dangerous."

"Ah, what's so dangerous about it? It's our first time out in combat, aren't you going to take some spoils of war? If you aren't, I'm going."

"Suit yourself."

Hiding inside the trench, Li Hongshen watched as the young soldier ignored his warning, sprang to his feet, and rushed down with the others to scavenge the cargo.

Li Hongshen remained unimpressed. According to the military manuals he had previously downloaded from the official website of the US military, a convoy like this clearly possessed the authorization to call in air support.

With nearly a thousand bases worldwide and two of the nearest ones close by, coupled with routine aerial patrols, about twenty minutes had already passed since the firefight began. Air support would be arriving shortly.

Just as Li Hongshen had anticipated, a roaring sound echoed from afar. Through the cover of the trench, the sky, slightly distorted by the intense heat, revealed two black dots flying rapidly closer. As they closed in, they were identified as the latest US Eagle fighter jets.

"Hmph, fighter jets? All they know how to do is bomb and play with autocannons."

Without looking back, Li Hongshen scrambled from the trench into a pre-prepared air-raid shelter. Accompanied by the thunderous roar of the fighter jets, the crowd rummaging through the goods below scattered swiftly.

Even so, they could not outrun the returning fighter jets. The rat-tat-tat of autocannons erupted over the roadway, kicking up another massive plume of dust and smoke from the ground.

Facing this situation, the adults who had remained behind at the position quickly brought out their heavy artillery—crude, rugged hardware from Suro, with desert-camo launch tubes hoisted onto their shoulders.

After locking onto the rampaging fighter jets in the sky with a tracking scope for a few seconds, several streaks of fire shot out from the position, leaving long trails of smoke in the air before flying straight toward the two targeted jets.

Having driven off the initial pair of fighter jets, the men in the position rushed back down. Li Hongshen was among them; of course, he hadn't volunteered, but had been driven out.

"Hurry, hurry! Their backup airborne troops are coming. Pack up quickly, take our fallen comrades back, and grab whatever supplies can be carried."

Upon reaching the camp, Li Hongshen quickly picked up two classic M1911 pistols. Although he had claimed earlier that an AK was enough, now that the gear was right at his feet, he picked it up regardless. Well, old habits die hard.

Just as Li Hongshen finished gathering his equipment and supplies, he slowed his pace, his gaze falling upon a body not far away.

It was the young soldier who had sat beside him before the battle, laughing and chatting just moments ago. Now, he lay lifeless on the scorching ground. Judging from his ravaged body, he had evidently taken several hits from an autocannon.

His hand was still tightly clutching a standard US-issue rifle, his eyes wide open, bearing a faint trace of lingering terror and reluctance.

Faced with such a scene, even Li Hongshen, who treated all of this as a mere game in the mortal world, felt a momentary, inexplicable sigh for the ruthlessness of life. Yet, he felt no sorrow; his eyes remained as cold and merciless as ever.

Amidst the thick smoke of gunpowder, Li Hongshen followed the guerrillas of the Mountain Organization to collect the bodies of their fallen comrades. Carrying the looted supplies and stepping across the scorching earth, they returned to the trench.

Less than five minutes after they retreated back into the tunnel, the sound of helicopters followed. Three helicopters formed a small formation; two hovered while the third descended to retrieve the dead.

After firing a few more missiles at the ground, the helicopters withdrew in an orderly fashion. The team in the trench, unfazed by the spectacle, loaded their supplies onto the van they had arrived in and clanked their way back onto the road toward the base.

Had the camera pulled back, it would have captured a deeply ironic scene: the helicopters carried the corpses of American soldiers, while the van transported firearms, ammunition, cargo, and the bodies of the resistance fighters.

The two parties traveled in opposite directions, departing less than ten minutes apart from one another. Between them lay a rising pillar of black smoke, acting like a sharp dividing line that split them apart.

…………Seven Years Later…………

"Rat-tat-tat-tat~~~"

"Rat-tat-tat-tat~~~"

"Boom~, Boom~, Boom~, Boom~"

"Run! It's the Reaper from the Mountain Organization over there, you'll die!"

"Rat~tat~, Ah~~~"

"Hoo~"

Li Hongshen's gaze was ice-cold, his finger pressing the trigger in a rhythmic cadence, alternating between rapid suppressing fire and precise headshots.

When his ammunition ran out, he deftly drew a magazine from his waist with one hand, slammed it into the AK-47 in his grasp, and resumed his relentless firepower.

His frame had grown much taller and broader; were it not for his youthful facial features, anyone would have mistaken him for a short-stature adult.

Whether due to the transmigration or simply his natural growth, his features had begun to lean toward those of the prime world. Placed in a developed society, he would undoubtedly fit the description of a handsome young man.

Yet, in this place plagued by ceaseless warfare, Li Hongshen was not known as a handsome youth, but rather as the legendary and terrifying Reaper of Lives.

No one on the battlefield had ever seen the Reaper's face, for no one who engaged the Reaper in direct combat ever survived. People only knew that this Reaper of Lives hailed from a resistance organization and would materialize unpredictably on the battlefield.

His most distinctive traits were his astonishingly brutal headshot rate and his ghostly movement, appearing and vanishing without a trace.

This Reaper of Lives had skyrocketed to fame six years ago during a skirmish with a US Army Ranger battalion, single-handedly wiping out an entire platoon of Rangers in close-quarters urban combat.

The United States had even slapped a bounty on his head, urging other mercenary groups to capture or kill the Reaper. Yet, over the years, while the Reaper frequently claimed enemy lives on the battlefield, neither individuals nor organizations had ever managed to capture him and claim the steadily increasing bounty.

Naturally, who would ever suspect that this ruthless Reaper of Lives was merely a thirteen-year-old boy soldier—even if this boy soldier had been active on the battlefield for over seven years, serving as a veteran hardened by years of slaughter on the front lines?