Hello, Mr. Major General

Chapter 67: Escalation

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The rain fell in torrents. The night was dark. Branches swayed in the howling wind.

It was a winding road, enclosed between two mountains; the wind was particularly loud and full of echoes here. It made him think of a demon lurking in the abyss, revealing its grotesque body with every step.

The junior officer stared uncertainly for a moment, before pulling out his pistol. With his gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he inched towards the figure on the ground.

When he had nearly reached it, he extended a leg and kicked the rifle away swiftly.

Throughout this entire process, the junior officer kept his eyes trained on the man lying on the ground. He was very afraid that the man would suddenly jump up and wrestle him for his gun, plastic bag around his head or not.

Minutes passed. The man did not move.

Rain continued to fall on him, running in winding rivulets down his back.

The junior officer was a little braver now; he tiptoed over to the man, and kicked him.

The man still didn’t move.

The junior officer was finally assured. He knelt, and tried to rip the plastic bag off the man’s head. But try as he might, he couldn’t untie the ordinary-looking plastic bag.

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“The h*ll? It’s just a stupid plastic bag, how’d they tie it so tight?” The junior officer grumbled as he pulled out his pocket knife. He slashed the plastic bag open.

Just then, a lightning bolt flashed in the sky, followed by a thunderous boom that resounded in his ears.

A face had emerged from the black plastic bag: blood oozed from every facial orifice, and the lifeless eyes were wide and resentful. The sight was made all the more ghastly and horrific by the intermittent flashes of lightning.

The young officer cried out a second time; he hurriedly backed away, tripping over himself and falling down on his rear in his panic.

“Chief! Chief! We have a situation!” The officer, young and with only a few years of experience under his belt, quickly got out his phone and attempted to report to his boss.

He tried several times, but couldn’t get through.

He looked at the error message on his phone; f*ck! There was no signal here!

The junior officer looked at the main road leading towards the resort. The rain and wind obscured the entrance. He looked at the direction he had come from; that way, too, was covered in a dense fog.

He hurriedly got up, stamped the mud from his feet, and grabbed the rifle he had kicked away. He ran back to the police station as fast as he could.

…

Not long after, the superintendent of the police station near Dufeng Mountain was roused from his sleep by the urgent ringing of his phone.

“What happened?” the superintendent demanded as he hurried into the station. He saw the rifle the junior officer had hauled back from the muddy road. His eyes immediately narrowed. “That’s an American Thunderbolt sniper rifle! Where did you find this?”

“On the road leading towards Dufeng Mountain Resort Villa.” There was still fear lurking in the junior officer’s eyes. He shook it off and then looked at the superintendent admiringly. “Chief, you recognize this gun?!”

He had known that the superintendent was an army veteran, but he had not expected him to be an expert in firearms.

The superintendent smiled. He gazed at the sniper rifle, a far-away look in his eyes. “I remember those days. I’d wanted so badly to be the sniper in my squad and so I worked my ass off studying everything there was to know about these rifles. In end though, someone else surpassed me. I didn’t get the position.”

This was a painful memory for the superintendent. The junior officer, sensing this, immediately changed the subject. “Chief, there was also a dead man there, with a plastic bag wrapped around his head. I found this sniper rifle beside him.”

“What? A dead man’s body, and a plastic bag around his head?” The superintendent’s jaw dropped. “Which god of war has decided to grace our humble Dufeng Mountain with his presence today?!”

The junior officer looked at the superintendent, terror-stricken. He had no idea what his boss was talking about.

“Chief, there was also a call from the parents of a C University law student earlier this evening. They said that the C University law students are currently staying in Dufeng Mountain Resort Villa for their graduation trip, but no one has been able to contact them, not by mobile phone, internet, or even the landlines. They’re worried sick, and want us to see what’s going on. I went to check, but I hadn’t even made it into the villa when I saw… this on the road.” He pointed at the sniper rifle.

“Call Dufeng Mountain Resort Villa and get me Old Duan from their security office.” The superintendent seated himself; he lit a cigarette and began to smoke to clear his mind.

The junior officer stood up and shook his head. He tapped the phone receiver. “Like I said, The phone lines over at Dufeng Mountain Resort Villa are down. No phone signal, either. Which was why I had personally ran over to see what was up, but before I reached the resort, I found this, and the dead man I mentioned.” He added, “The body’s still lying on the road.”

“The lines are dead?! There’s no signal?!” The superintendent’s face had gone deadly serious. He took an unhappy drag on his cigarette. “I’ve heard enough. Wake everyone and have them put on bulletproof vests. We’re going into the mountains!”

Five minutes later, a small squad of policemen armed with walkie-talkies and bulletproof vests had assembled. They put on their raincoats and began walking towards Dufeng Mountain Resort Villa. Since there were many of them, they made good time and soon arrived at the spot where the junior officer had found the sniper rifle and the body.

The dead man was still lying on the ground, the slashed plastic bag drooping from the impossible knot around his neck.

The superintendent shone a flashlight over the body, then motioned for two of his men to come over. “Take him back to the station and ID him, quickly. The rest of you, follow me.”

He ran swiftly in the rain with eight policemen behind him.

He was just about to reach the villa gate when suddenly—

Whoosh

A bullet flew out of the woods near the villa; it struck the junior officer, who was leading the way, in the chest.

The man screamed and fell backwards.

“Down! Everybody down!” The superintendent hurriedly waved and ordered everyone to get down on the ground.

He crawled over to the junior officer who had been shot, and asked quietly, “Big Mao, you all right?”

They were all wearing bulletproof vests. A bullet to the vest may hurt, but it wasn’t life-threatening.

The junior officer groaned. “That hurt like a mother f*cker!”

“Your mother’s alive and well. Don’t curse her, you ungrateful child!” The superintendent said gruffly as he slapped the junior officer on the back. He slowly got up from the ground and checked his surroundings before giving the order: “Onwards!”

The junior officer who had just been shot in the chest got up.

Just then, another bullet flew out from behind a tree.

This time, it struck the junior officer’s helmet.

His helmet wasn’t bulletproof. Once again, he collapsed backwards, only this time, he made no sound.

Another policeman who had been standing next to the junior officer hurriedly shouted, “Chief! Big Mao got hit again!” He reached for the body in the mud, pulling it to the side.

The superintendent immediately fired several consecutive shots in the direction from where the second bullet had come, yelling, “Over there! Shoot them! Shoot them dead!”

On the battlefield, any sniper worth their salt made sure to move to a new position after every shot. They had to. Otherwise, the enemy would be able to trace the sniper’s position by analyzing the ballistics of his bullets. Once they had his location, the sniper would be mercilessly bombarded, with the end result being a ten-meter radius of barren land around whatever was left of the sniper. This was why snipers were also known as “cannon fodder” when out on the battlefield.

Up here, in the mountain woods of the Empire, the superintendent realized that the sniper he was dealing with was a complete amateur.

The two shots had come from the same direction.

The policemen did not hesitate to pull out their guns and return fire.

Their guns were not as powerful as a sniper rifle, but even so, there was strength to be gained in large numbers. Shots rang out one after the other, never letting up, interspersed only by only the sound of the rain. The man who had been trying to shoot them from the woods found himself completely suppressed by the gunfire; he could not find an opening, nor could he even look up from his hiding spot.

It wasn’t long before the officers heard a low scream. The branches in the forest swayed a few times. The policemen shot again, but there was no longer any movement.

It was the middle of the night, and it was raining heavily. Visibility was very low.

Assessing their predicament what it boiled down to was: an officer from the Dufeng Mountain Police Station had been killed in action. This, along with the unidentified dead man, and the sniper who had escaped, had effectively escalated the situation. This was serious.

“Take Big Mao back to the station. Call the higher-ups and the local troops for backup, stat! Tell them we’ve got a major situation here!” said the superintendent vehemently. He wiped his face; he could no longer tell whether his face was wet from the rain, his sweat, or his tears.