Volume 9: Molten Mine Chapter 467: Sniper Annihilation War
Molten Mine, coordinates B151, H117.
Allen had just crossed a road that was divided into four parts when he ran into a group of heretical believers who were on their way.
Although these people were wearing protective clothing and helmets, making it difficult to see their faces, Allen was able to identify them instantly.
The team of more than thirty people in total wore nearly twenty different types of protective clothing, including some bulky space suits that had been out of production for decades. The overall structure of this clothing was based on the extravehicular space suits of the old era, but the materials and craftsmanship were completely opposite to the concept of tailor-made and meticulous space suits. If it could be summarized in a few words, they would be simple, cheap and modular.
This space suit is for "external hull maintenance workers" - a profession that once existed but has now disappeared. During the ark's nine hundred years of drifting, the external hull is bound to have various damages and failures. In most cases, such problems are solved by repair robots.
But robots are not omnipotent, and some complex operations still have to be done manually, which naturally gave rise to such a special profession.
An adult with normal intelligence and physical fitness needs three months of training to become an "external hull maintenance worker". Generally, ten to fifteen workers form a maintenance team, with an engineer as team leader and technical guidance. When this industry was at its peak, the number of workers engaged in "external hull maintenance" on the entire Ark was nearly 10,000.
The salary level of this profession is not high, just enough to cover daily expenses, but the subsidy for each maintenance operation is much higher than the average salary level of the Ark residents - in an era when a standard meal with meat (protein synthetic meat) and vegetables (bean sprouts and some fungi produced by hydroponic farms, the main edible vegetables during the drifting period) only costs fifty credit points, the subsidy for going out of the cabin for a maintenance operation is six to eight thousand credit points, and if it is an emergency repair task, it will be even higher.
Of course, high pay also means high risk. According to official statistics, the overall mortality rate of external hull maintenance workers is around 6.9%, calculated based on the number of people leaving the cabin. That is to say, for every 100 workers who leave the cabin for maintenance work, seven will not be able to return to the Ark alive.
…
After the Ark landed on Alpha, this high-risk occupation naturally disappeared from human history, and the thousands of space work suits in stock became "waste" with nowhere to use in an instant, and flowed into the public at a very cheap price.
Many people who cannot afford professional protective clothing will go to the black market to buy these antiques from decades ago as substitutes, but because these space suits are the result of extremely low costs and have been in disrepair for a long time, their reliability is not high. In addition, these are equipment designed for the zero-gravity environment of space, and using them on the ground will greatly limit the wearer's ability to move - because the death rate caused by accidents caused by these space suits is even higher than that of the drifting era.
Although many people bought it, they were basically penniless rookie hunters or low-level mercenaries with limited funds. They knew in their hearts that the performance of this thing was really not that good. It was okay to wear it to some less dangerous places, but if you wore it to the Molten Mine Area, it would be no different from seeking death.
Almost half of the team Allen ran into were wearing these cheap space suits, and the most worn ones were even patched and taped...
Neither the rescue team sent here nor the staff stationed in the base could wear this kind of equipment. The identity of this group of people can only be exiles living in the wilderness. The exiles who appear in the Molten Mine Area must be a group of "extremists" belonging to the heretical sect.
Fortunately, the group did not discover Allen.
Allen hid behind a turned-up roadbed, and carefully watched the group of people with the scope mounted on his sniper rifle - they seemed very anxious: the leader kept waving the automatic rifle in his hand, and he seemed to be shouting at the people who fell behind. But the distance was too far, Allen could not hear his voice, and because they were all wearing helmets, he could not judge what he was saying by observing his lip shape.
"Could this group of people be rushing to support friendly forces?" This was the first thought that popped into Allen's mind. "Could it be that the commander and Team Leader Breya are exchanging fire with the heretics?"
So this group is in a hurry to get deeper into the mine?
Allen's eyes swept over these people one by one - their equipment was very poor. Not only were their protective suits colorful "international brands", but their weapons were the same. The best-looking one among them was the 50% new Type 01 rifle in the leader's hand. The things in the hands of others were not even fire sticks in the eyes of this elite soldier.
Allen even suspected that in such a high temperature environment as the Molten Mine, those things that were pieced together from various parts and could barely be considered "guns" might explode as soon as they were fired...
As for high-tech equipment such as electromagnetic weapons and laser weapons that require strong logistical support, they simply do not exist.
The fighting capacity of this team is not very high. Judging from their marching formation, their combat skills are obviously not good either. As for the tacit understanding and cooperation between each other, there is no such thing.
Even if it was the Garrison Corps, which Allen and his men looked down upon the most, if they just pulled out a team of ten people and, without the help of "external things" such as terrain, intelligence, and fire support, and the two sides confronted each other head-on in an open area, the team of the Garrison Corps could easily annihilate these thirty-plus people, and there was a high probability that they would be unharmed.
"The distance between me and them is about 170 meters. Their weapons are basically mechanical sights... Some don't even have sights. The chance of hitting me is very low..." Allen calculated in his mind, "And there are two several-meter-wide cracks in the middle. It's difficult for them to rush to my side in the first place."
His fingers gently stroked the trigger guard of the sniper rifle, and his heart began to struggle.
"In order to speed up their march, they all choose to march in open and flat areas, with few shelters around. With my ability, I can completely wipe them out here. This may help relieve some of the pressure on the commanders..."
"But once a firefight breaks out with this group of people, my position will inevitably be exposed. If there are still people of theirs nearby, I will be in danger... The most fatal thing is that I will not be able to pass on the news of the support base to the commander..."
"My primary mission is to deliver intelligence, but the commander and his men may be in the middle of a tough battle. Even if I can get to the battle area in time, I won't be able to get close to them..."
"It would be better to eat this group of people first and then make other plans..."
After Allen made up his mind, he immediately loaded a bullet into the gun and began searching for the target.
The assault rifle loaded with active ammunition was placed at his feet - if there was a container of the Seed of Corrosion among this team, he was fully capable of killing such a monster.
He wouldn't even give the Seed of Erosion a chance to leap over the first crack.
Although Allen serves as a sniper in the team, his performance in fully automatic weapon shooting is also top-notch in the team. He can shoot at a moving target at a distance of 150 meters with a Type 01 assault rifle. With a magazine of 20 bullets, no more than three bullets will miss the target - this moving target is not the kind of moving target in the shooting gallery that moves slowly like an old lady in a wheelchair, but a drone target that moves irregularly at a speed of up to 25 meters per second.
The imaginary enemies they set up during training were all based on the most ferocious indigenous creatures in the wilderness or enhanced species of erosion.
Allen moved the muzzle of the gun steadily and locked the crosshairs on a burly man in the center of the team.
The big man was carrying an old-fashioned general-purpose machine gun on his shoulder. Although the rusty gun body meant that it had received very poor or almost no daily maintenance, and the failure rate during shooting was definitely high, Allen didn't dare to gamble. No one could guarantee that the machine gun would jam after firing a certain number of bullets.
Above one hundred and fifty meters, but within three hundred meters... this was the most terrifying distance at which this array of general-purpose machine guns could suppress the enemy. A ten-millimeter caliber full-power bullet could easily penetrate one-meter-thick rock, and a hundred-round ammunition belt ensured the continuity of the firepower - the machine gunner did not need to aim precisely, as long as he "splashed" at the place where Allen was hiding, he would be suppressed so that he could not raise his head.
With the first shot, he must kill the machine gunner who poses the greatest threat to him.
The ballistic calculator built into the sniper rifle scope was still working normally. Allen didn't have to waste energy calculating parameters such as wind speed and air pressure. The computer had automatically adjusted the deviation of the crosshairs for him. At a shooting distance of 170 meters, he could almost hit whatever he pointed at.
"Bang! Bang!" He pulled the trigger.
One shot in the chest and one in the head.
The machine gunner fell down!
The team instantly became a mess. Some of them immediately rushed towards the nearest shelter, while more of them were spinning around like headless flies. The most outrageous guy was tripped by his companion, fell to the ground, rolled more than ten meters away, and fell into a fissure filled with magma.
Just as Allen expected, this group of people had never received any formal military training and had no emergency plan when they were ambushed.
As for the leader, he reacted quickly and jumped behind a huge rock in the first moment. However, he did not issue orders or gather his men in time. Instead, he stretched out the gun in his hand from the edge of the rock and fired indiscriminately outside.
As for the point where the bullet landed, it was tens of thousands miles away from Allen's hiding place.
Even this "commander" had no military qualities at all. Any rookie from the recruit company would perform much better than him at this time.
This doesn't look like a troop rushing to support friendly forces, but rather more like a group of hard laborers being driven by supervisors.
"This guy doesn't even know which direction he's firing..." Allen thought so, and he suddenly felt a lot more confident.
Two more shots killed a man who was trying to pick up the machine gun that fell on the ground. For a moment, those who failed to find cover lay on the ground - perhaps they thought that this way they could avoid the bullets flying from nowhere, but to Allen, who was on higher ground, these guys looked like they were lying on the ground waiting to die.
He even gave up his usual two-shot shooting and used single bullets to kill the enemies who were exposed in the sight one by one, as if the Grim Reaper was calling their names. Every few seconds, someone would be shot in the head, and every shot was a fatal shot without exception.
Including the first machine gunner who was killed, there were a total of eleven people who failed to find cover. Allen killed all of them in less than a minute, and he hadn't even emptied his second magazine.
Up to this point, this group of people had not discovered Allen's location. The environment in the Molten Mine Area greatly interfered with their judgment. They could only hear gunshots coming from a distance, and their companions were killed one by one, but they didn't even have the chance to fight back.
"The rest of the people are hiding behind the bunkers... The air temperature is so high that thermal imaging can't be used, and we can't determine their positions..." Allen moved the gun slightly, and the sight of the scope moved back and forth between several rocks. At first, some people followed their leader's example and stretched out their guns from the edge of the bunker to shoot randomly, but after Allen shot through the palm of one of them, no one did it anymore.
In the Molten Mine, as long as the protective suit is damaged, even if the injury is not fatal, it is equivalent to a slow death - these people don't carry any repair tape or other things. If the protective suit is pierced, they can only watch the oxygen inside leak out...
This feeling might not be as satisfying as being shot to death...
No one showed up, and the situation suddenly fell into a stalemate. This was not good news for Allen - although he suppressed this group of people, if the believers of other heretical sects heard the gunshots and moved towards this side, the situation would be bad.
