I'm in Detective Conan, and I start with the Grand Theft Auto system.

After firing an RPG, Lin Shen didn't just stand there and watch the show.

He knew very well that his position would be exposed as soon as he made a move.

The enemy wasn't some weakling; they were highly trained CIA snipers with incredibly fast reaction times!

So the instant the rocket left the barrel, he rolled to the side and changed his position.

He crouched behind the container, glanced down at the transmitter in his hand, and threw it away!

The reload is too slow; he doesn't have time to play around with it one shot at a time.

He flipped his hand, and another fully loaded RPG appeared in his hand from the system space.

He effortlessly hoisted the gun onto his shoulder, peered out, aimed, and pulled the trigger—the whole action was completed in one smooth motion.

Whoosh—Bang!

The rocket, trailing a white flame, struck precisely the sniper position atop the western warehouse.

Before the explosion, Lin Shen felt a cool breeze brush against his right cheek.

It was a bullet that grazed his face almost simultaneously, so close that he could feel the airflow from its trajectory.

He tilted his head slightly, knowing full well what was going on.

The enemy sniper reacted very quickly, you could even say he spotted him immediately.

But no matter how fast you go, you can't outrun yourself!

With a deafening roar, the sniper position was engulfed in flames.

Lin Shen sneered, "Trying to outsnipe me? Do you think you can beat me?"

"I only need to aim at a general direction; I don't need to lock onto you at all."

As he spoke, the man vanished again.

He changed positions again, picked up a new RPG, and fired at the remaining sniper positions in the southeast direction.

…………

The remaining snipers were on the verge of a mental breakdown.

They had a total of five locations. The two colleagues in front of them were just reporting "Target locked" on the walkie-talkie, and then they went silent the next second, leaving no trace of their bodies.

They could see it clearly through the sniper scope!

Those two people were directly blasted to pieces by the rocket, without even a chance to escape.

The same thought flashed through the minds of the remaining three snipers: How much is the monthly salary? Is it worth risking their lives?

Without saying a word, one of the snipers dropped his rifle, climbed out of the cover, and slid down the ladder.

The other one didn't hesitate either, put away his gun and ran.

The third one also quietly slipped away.

At that moment, the CIA commander's communicator rang in my headset again: "Hold on tight!"

"Snipe that bastard with the RPG! You hear me!"

The sniper, running down the ladder, pressed his earpiece and replied, "Roger that, aiming."

As he said that, his feet moved even faster.

He cursed inwardly: Using a sniper rifle to snipe an RPG? Are you kidding me?

If someone fires a rocket with an blast radius of 10 or 20 meters, you can only hit a spot with your own shot at most. How are you supposed to fight them?

Moreover, everyone is hiding in high places. Once those positions are exposed, there is nowhere to hide. Someone can blow you up with just a rough shot. You have to be accurate to the centimeter.

This war is simply impossible to fight!

He's not here to die; no matter how high his salary is, he won't live to enjoy it!

The other two snipers had the same idea.

The three of them went downstairs almost at the same time, hid in a blind spot, and then tacitly took out their walkie-talkies—no, they kept their earpieces on, to listen to the commander's movements.

They decided to put on a show!

Soon, they saw that their sniping position had been bombarded by rockets!

One of the snipers reacted quickly, grabbing the headset and letting out a scream: "Ah—"

Then I immediately ripped off the headphones and threw them away like a hot potato.

The other two snipers did the same, mimicking a muffled thud with their mouths before cutting off communications.

The three snipers quietly found a hidden corner and crouched down, planning to wait until the battle was over before showing themselves!

Snipers may not be able to hit the target accurately, but when it comes to survival, they are professionals!

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Over at the warehouse, Lin Shen destroyed the last sniper position that was lit up with fire, and no new sniper shots were fired at him.

He put down the RPG rocket launcher he was holding, tossed it to his feet, dusted off his hands, and glanced back at Tomizawa Tetsuji, who was crouching behind the bunker, his face still pale.

Lin Shen said, "President, it seems like the other side has run out of steam."

Tetsuji Tomizawa swallowed hard, staring at the burning flames and then at the corpses on the ground. He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.

It took him a while to finally find his voice: "Brother Lin...you're really being unfair!"

"If you had this thing, why didn't you take it out sooner?"

Lin Shen glanced down at the rocket launcher, somewhat amused: "You didn't ask me, how would I know if you wanted it?"

Tetsuji Tomizawa was speechless.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words to refute it.

Thinking about it carefully, what they said is right.

I don't think I asked that question!

He didn't dwell on the matter and quickly changed the subject: "Okay, okay! Once I'm safely back, get me another hundred rounds!"

Lin Shen walked to the side, bent down and picked up the heavy black money box: "I said, Chairman, now is not the time to talk about this."

"We need to get out of here before their reinforcements arrive."

He tested the box; it was incredibly heavy, containing a solid $76 million.

He pushed the money box and walked quickly toward the warehouse door.

As Tomizawa Tetsuji followed, he took out his phone and quickly dialed a number.

The phone rang twice before being answered.

Tetsuji Tomizawa lowered his voice and spoke quickly: "Rum! It's me! I need your help!"

"I have over a hundred Gatling guns in my warehouse at Mihua Wharf. Find a way to get them out of there!"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Rum's voice was emotionless: "Understood."

Without another word, Tomizawa Tetsuji hung up and quickly caught up with Lin Shen.

As soon as he reached the warehouse entrance, he saw Lin Shen struggling to stuff the money box into the trunk of a car.

But the box was too heavy; it contained seven thousand six hundred US dollars, each bill a hundred dollars, totaling nearly eighty kilograms.

Lin Shen tried to lift it several times, his face turning red, but he still couldn't put it in place properly.

Just as he was about to try a different position, he suddenly heard the sound of a car engine in the distance.

Tetsuji Tomizawa heard it too, and his expression changed. The sound was getting closer and closer, like a convoy of cars heading this way.

He panicked completely, quickly walked to Lin Shen's side, and urged, "President Lin! What time is it and you're still worrying about this money!"

"Your life is more important! Get in the car and leave quickly! Forget about your things!"

Lin Shen was still struggling with the box: "You make it sound so easy! You're not short of money, but I am!"

Tomizawa Tetsuji stamped his feet in frustration: "Forget about the money! I'll give you double! Double!"

Upon hearing this, Lin Shen finally stopped what he was doing.

He straightened up, turned to look at Tomizawa Tetsuji, and slowly a smile appeared on his face: "Just based on what you said, Chairman, I guarantee I'll bring you home safely."

Lin Shen turned around, quickly got into the car, started the engine, and waved to Tomizawa Tetsuji: "Get in!"

Tetsuji Tomizawa quickly climbed into the passenger seat.

The car engine emitted a deep roar, the tires scraping against the concrete, sending sparks flying, before it slammed the money box into the sea. They'd come back for it another day.

He then sped off toward the exit of the dock.