Chapter 75: The Great Cheater Who Shamelessly Uses Smoke Screens

Xing Xiaolong took the initiative to stay behind and cover the retreat, solving Fierce Tiger’s greatest dilemma, and immediately began organizing the withdrawal.

He first recalled the sniper observation post from the hillside. Once Baldy and Trist descended, they switched to automatic weapons and, together with Black Fox and the other PMC, formed a line of fire to suppress the attacks from both government and rebel forces.

When Xing Xiaolong safely reached the three-story building, he set up the Mg4 light machine gun beside the rooftop railing. He began to fire steady bursts of three at the artillery position Baldy had identified, preventing the two gunners from raising their heads.

Fierce Tiger, already prepared, tossed several smoke grenades onto the road at the village entrance. Taking advantage of the brief moment of obscured vision, he managed to slip in, start one of the pickup trucks, and sped out of the village.

Though government and rebel forces noticed, Black Fox and his team spared no ammunition, unleashing their full firepower in a relentless barrage. Their marksmanship, unmatched by ordinary men, pinned the enemy down, making interception impossible.

Those wild, panicked shots—guns raised without aiming, a brief burst before ducking back—sent stray bullets scattering, virtually wasted.

At a distance of one or two hundred meters, aside from the occasional lucky shot that clanged against the truck’s body, nothing even grazed the pickup.

The only real threat, the artillery position, had lost its effectiveness. With the advantage of height, Xing Xiaolong’s continuous bursts from the light machine gun kept the gunners trapped inside, unable to fire.

Under mutual cover, Fierce Tiger reached the roadside fifty meters away. When the armored vehicle rolled down the embankment earlier, its ten-ton weight collapsed the steep five-meter slope, creating a tilted earthen ramp—a makeshift path.

Utilizing this ramp and with the help of the now-awake hostages, including Artelia Lian Lagas, and an adrenaline surge from Baldy in the face of mortal peril, they assisted Fierce Tiger in transferring the unconscious hostages. In under two minutes, everyone was safely aboard.

With the most critical task accomplished, Fierce Tiger immediately notified the PMC still fighting at the village entrance, instructing them to board and protect the hostage vehicle for a coordinated withdrawal.

Black Fox and Baldy, out of rifle ammunition and now firing handguns, threw smoke grenades into the road’s center, followed by flashbangs and defensive grenades, all hurled at government and rebel forces, suppressing them so thoroughly they could not raise their heads. Then, they quickly seized another pickup truck.

With a PMC skilled in stunt driving, the performance of this second-hand armed pickup was pushed to its limits. In less than five seconds, ignition, start-up, tire burn, and a swift turn were executed, and the vehicle burst out of the village.

As the pickup passed the three-story building, all the PMC—including Baldy and Black Fox—cast sincere, respectful glances toward the rooftop, where the lone defender fired frantically, unable to even look their way.

At that moment, in the hearts of all, Xing Xiaolong was no longer the burden they once took him for, but a true warrior, equal to any among them.

To have his rear-guard action recognized by everyone, and to reap many later benefits, was something Xing Xiaolong himself had never expected.

Two pickup trucks broke through the village, and with the hostages about to be snatched by the mysterious team, government and rebel forces, now realizing the situation, became desperate, rushing out from the cover of buildings to pursue by vehicle.

Heavy machine guns atop the pickups spat fire. A barrage of 12.7mm rounds tore through, immediately felling several, while the rest retreated in terror.

Watching the two pickups escape, the government and rebel soldiers, frustrated and powerless, turned their attention to the lone figure at the village entrance—Xing Xiaolong.

A cacophony of gunfire erupted, bullets rained down on the three-story building like a storm.

Under the combined pressure from rifles, machine guns, heavy weapons, and even RPGs, the building rocked like a small sailboat in a typhoon. Even with reinforced concrete and hollow bricks, the walls were shattered, fragments flying in all directions.

Xing Xiaolong could no longer return fire; he retreated from the window into the interior.

In that brief moment shifting position, he felt searing pain in several spots, as if struck by a hammer.

Luckily, Fate favored him: the bullets that hit him were ricochets off the cement, and he wore two bulletproof vests, inner and outer, so the impacts, while painful, caused no real injury.

Relieved, he checked himself and found his heart still beating strong.

But trouble was not over.

A shell whistled through the air, followed by a violent explosion. The wall was blasted open, a gaping hole over a meter wide, debris flying like shrapnel.

Had Xing Xiaolong not retreated in time, that shot would have been fatal.

“Damn it, these gunners must be eliminated. Their heavy weapons are too great a threat. If I can’t take them out, I’m dead for sure… cough, cough.”

Ears ringing and chest trembling from the blast, Xing Xiaolong coughed out dust and abandoned the light machine gun—its suppressive advantage nullified in these circumstances.

It was time to spend heavily.

Watching the tactical map, the number of enemy dots within thirty meters was increasing. Xing Xiaolong, pinned down, gritted his teeth and decided to go all in.

And this method of escape was unique—only Xing Xiaolong could pull it off.

The solution was smoke grenades.

In many African countries, ordinary soldiers don’t even know what a smoke grenade is. Even the wealthiest, like the US military, never carry more than two per soldier—far too few to make a difference when surrounded by dozens.

But Xing Xiaolong was different. He could purchase unlimited supplies from the CF store.

This changed everything.

When any item is amassed beyond the limits of ordinary comprehension, when the balance is shattered, one becomes truly formidable.

“If I can’t beat you in numbers, I’ll outclass you in gear. You’ll see what a super bomb master looks like, what real cheating means.”

Not wanting to die with unspent wealth, Xing Xiaolong bought fifty smoke grenades in one go.

He hurled them everywhere—one in every window, inside and out; on the stairs, above and below; at the front door, inside and outside; wherever sight reached, he tossed one.

If fifty weren’t enough, he’d buy fifty more, blindly throwing as fast as he could.

With the crisp clatter of grenades unlocking, a scene of pure hacking unfolded.

From left and right, government and rebel soldiers creeping up from outside stared in bewilderment as small metal canisters kept flying out of the building.

They lost count of how many were thrown.

All they knew was that the once-clear three-story house, right before their eyes, was engulfed in endless thick smoke, soon vanishing from view.

At the same time, their comrades standing ahead, behind, and to the sides disappeared as well.