“Fire!”
Jin Shu spun around, his ears ringing, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. Soldiers were hunkered down behind sandbags and a crumbling wall, exchanging relentless gunfire with an unseen enemy.
“RPG!”
His head snapped up just in time to see the rocket streak through the air, sailing over his position.
BOOM!
The impact shook the ground as the projectile obliterated a brick building in the distance. A soldier stumbled out of the smoke, coughing and clutching his helmet as bullets zipped dangerously close to his head.
“Get over here!” Jin Shu yelled, waving the man toward cover. The seconds stretched unbearably long as the soldier zigzagged through the open. Finally, with a desperate lunge, he dove behind the wall, landing hard next to Jin Shu.
“You good?” Jin Shu asked, eyes scanning for injuries.
The soldier blinked at him, dazed. “My... my fucking head hurts.”
“Well, you just took a rocket. I’d be shocked if it didn’t.” Jin Shu couldn’t help a bitter laugh.
The soldier shook his head, motioning weakly toward the ground. “Hand me that.”
Jin Shu glanced down and spotted an M320 Grenade Launcher at his feet. He tossed it over, along with a belt of 40mm rounds.
Thunk!
The soldier didn’t hesitate, firing grenade after grenade at the enemy's position. Explosions peppered the battlefield as Jin Shu peeked over the wall, gripping his M4 tightly. Through the haze, he could make out enemy combatants about 100 meters away, their silhouettes darting between another crumbled wall, bursts of gunfire coming from their position.
Bullets screamed past him, some hitting dangerously close, but Jin Shu gritted his teeth and aimed downrange. He squeezed the trigger, the recoil jolting through his arms. He wasn’t even sure if he was hitting anything—just pouring lead into the chaos.
“This thing got ammo?”
Jin Shu jerked his head to the side, startled. Another soldier had slid in next to him, motioning toward an M4 propped against the wall.
“Yeah, I just loaded it,” Jin Shu replied quickly, barely sparing him a glance before returning his focus to the enemy.
The soldier grabbed the rifle, and together they continued to unleash hell into the battlefield, the relentless cacophony of explosions and gunfire surrounding them like a violent symphony.
The fighting stretched on and on, as they kept exchanging gunfire, the relentless exchange of bullets and grenades drowning out any sense of calm. Jin Shu’s hands were slick with sweat as he adjusted his grip on the M4, the weight of the weapon grounding him in the madness.
“RPG incoming!” someone shouted, the voice cutting through the cacophony.
Jin Shu barely had time to look up before the rocket spiraled toward their position. His stomach dropped.
“Down!” he yelled, throwing himself against the crumbling wall as the world erupted around him.
BOOM!
The explosion was deafening, sending a wave of heat and debris over their position. Dust filled the air, thick and choking, turning the already chaotic battlefield into an eerie haze. Jin Shu coughed, his lungs burning, as chunks of concrete and shards of brick rain down on him. He pressed himself flat against the ground, heart pounding, ears ringing.
“Everyone still breathing?” he shouted hoarsely, trying to peer through the dust.
A voice answered, faint and panicked, but before he could pinpoint who it was, a shadow moved through the haze.
“Shit,” Jin Shu muttered.
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The enemy was rushing their position. Silhouettes emerge like ghosts, their shouts muffled but their intent clear. Jin Shu raised his M4, firing blind into the fog. He heard the dull thuds of bodies dropping, but they kept coming.
A sharp crack rings out, closer than expected. Jin Shu flinched as pain lanced through his stomach. The impact sending him stumbling backward, his weapon slipping from his grip.
He fell against the rubble, clutching his abdomen as blood seeped through his fingers. His breaths come fast and shallow, panic threatening to overwhelm him.
Through the dust, he saw one of the soldiers advancing, rifle raised. Jin Shu glared at him, defiance blazing in his eyes despite the agony.
In a desperate move, Jin Shu’s hand fumbled for the pistol strapped to his thigh. His fingers curl around the grip, slick with blood but steady.
The enemy soldier loomed over him now, gun aimed at his head.
“Not today,” Jin Shu growled through gritted teeth.
Bang!
Thump!
The recoil jolted his arm as the enemy soldier collapsed, his weapon clattering to the ground. Jin Shu let out a shuddering breath, but the respite was brief. More shadows moved in the distance.
“Hold the line!” Someone shouted, Jin Shu’s breaths grew ragged as he pressed harder against his stomach, trying to stem the relentless flow of blood. The pain was unbearable, threatening to drown him in darkness.
His grip on the pistol slackened, and his vision began to blur. He could hear the muffled sounds of battle continuing around him, distant and hollow, as if he were being pulled into a deep void.
“Not dying here…” he whispered, but the words felt distant, almost meaningless now.
The world around him started to fade—dust, gunfire, the enemy’s footsteps—all dissolving into an oppressive silence.
But then, faint and far away, he heard it.
“Jin Shu… Jin Shu!”
A young girl’s voice, high and frantic, pierced through the haze.
“Daddy!!”
Another voice, smaller and more panicked, echoed the first. His heart lurched, a jolt of warmth breaking through the cold numbness.
“Li Xue… Yin’er?” He murmured weakly.
The battlefield shifted, crumbled, and collapsed into darkness. The dust and debris dissolved like smoke, and suddenly, he was weightless. The next moment, he snapped awake, eyes flying open, chest heaving.
The scent of blood and gunpowder was gone, replaced by the damp earth and faint aroma of trees. He was back in the forest. Li Xue hovered over him, her face pale with worry, while Yin’er clung to his chest, her tiny form trembling.
“Jin Shu, you’re alive! Please don't scare me like that again!” Li Xue’s voice wavered, her eyes filled with fear.
“Daddy…” Yin’er whimpered, her tear-soaked face pressed against him.
Jin Shu blinked slowly, trying to ground himself. The pain in his stomach was still sharp, but this was no battlefield—no grenades, no enemy soldiers. Just the forest.
He managed a weak smirk, his voice rough but steady. “You two sure know how to wake a guy up.”
Li Xue glared, brushing away tears as she scolded him. “If you joke like that again, I’ll—”
Jin Shu cut her off with a strained laugh. “I’m fine… Just… give me a minute.”
As they fussed over him, Jin Shu let his head fall back, staring at the canopy above. His chest rose and fell as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. The memory lingered, vivid and jarring, but he forced it to the back of his mind. Just a dream, he told himself, though the weight of it felt all too real.
When he looked down, his gaze fell on the torn fabric of his robes, the hole where the sword had pierced through. The skin underneath was whole—fresh and pristine. Yet, the phantom ache remained, a sharp reminder of what had happened.
“You have a strange body, young man,” Dr. Chi remarked, his voice calm yet tinged with curiosity. He rested against a nearby tree, his brow furrowed in thought. “Your wound healed itself before I could even attempt treatment. Most would’ve been dead, or at least incapacitated.”
Jin Shu managed a weak chuckle. “That’s why I told you to take the sword out. I knew it’d close up.” He shifted, groaning as the residual ache flared. “Still, I’ll need a minute to rest. Then we should get moving before it gets dark.”
As he leaned back against the tree, Jin Shu let his thoughts drift to the fight. His guns had proven invaluable, giving him an edge no one in this world could anticipate. Yet, they were tools—powerful but limited. This was a world of martial arts and cultivators, and if he was going to survive, he’d need to adapt. A gun wouldn’t always be enough, especially against enemies far stronger than the men they had just faced.
“Those weapons of yours,” Dr. Chi’s voice interrupted his musings. “What are they called?”
“Guns,” Jin Shu replied, glancing over at the old man.
“Guns.” The doctor repeated the word thoughtfully, as if rolling it over in his mind. “Did you know that the men you fought were at least at the 7th stage of the Qi Realm? Some were even at the 9th stage. It’s no small feat for someone at the 4th stage to take down all twenty-one of them.”
Jin Shu frowned. “Did any of them survive?”
The doctor shook his head, his expression dark. “No. Those who were injured took their own lives with poison. A rather grim but efficient way to ensure no loose ends.”
“Figures,” Jin Shu muttered, closing his eyes for a moment.
Dr. Chi continued, his tone more curious now. “However, I did find something of interest among them.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small metal emblem. The faint light filtering through the trees glinted off its surface.
Jin Shu’s eyes narrowed as he took in the insignia etched into the emblem. It was unmistakable: the mark of the Crown Prince. His stomach tightened as he recalled the letter he’d received not long ago.