Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

On a snowy night, time seemed to be frozen, moving extremely slowly.

Twenty minutes have passed.

Nikolai lay motionless a few meters outside the threshold.

The pool of blood that was once steaming hot has now frozen into a dark purple ice shell, like a dirty patch stuck to the snow.

His hand was still scratching towards the inside of the house, but he could no longer reach the door that had allowed him to survive.

"Bang!"

A muffled rumble of thunder suddenly echoed from the distant woods.

A bright, clear eye was drilled less than half a foot above Likov's head.

Inside the room, Belikov and Gerasimov huddled in the shadows against the wall, not daring to lift their eyelids.

Immediately afterwards, "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Several more rapid gunshots rang out.

Bullets pierced the door frame and wall panels, and wood chips flew everywhere like shrapnel, stinging the skin when they hit.

Gerasimov clutched his short shotgun tightly, cowering in fear, while Belikov stared intently at the holes that had been pierced in the darkness, his eyes revealing a ruthless, seasoned glint.

He's lying.

Belikov lowered his voice, a twisted glee in it. "Gerasimov, did you hear that? That bastard's panicking. He's firing blindly, trying to kill us all with this random, blind firing. He can't see where we are inside, that's why he's firing so randomly!"

He was breathing heavily, staring intently at the snow pit outside, his tone extremely certain:

"He's in cahoots with Ivanov; they desperately need this medicine to save lives. The more frantically he fires now, the more it shows he's out of options. Time is on our side. As long as we hold this position and don't move, once that old fox can't hold on any longer, the initiative will be in our hands!"

However, the person in the woods clearly had no intention of playing this endurance race with him.

Two hundred meters away.

Zhao Shanhe lay prone in the snow pit, expressionless as he pulled the bolt of his rifle again.

Zhao Shanhe slightly adjusted the crosshair, and this time, the crosshair steadily locked onto the kerosene lamp hanging on the central beam of the room.

"Bang!"

Thunder roared again.

The bullet whizzed through the air and struck precisely at the junction of the kerosene lamp's metal base and the crossbeam.

"Snap!"

The lamp filled with kerosene shattered instantly.

The embers that had been hanging in mid-air, along with large amounts of spilled grease, poured down from the roof like a rain of fire from hell.

"boom--"

The flames instantly licked at the scattered wood chips and dry grass, and thick smoke, accompanied by dark red firelight, filled the narrow, dead-end corner in that instant.

"That beast!"

Belikov's previously confident expression instantly crumbled, and he roared as he waved his arms, trying to block the oncoming heat wave.

Kerosene flowed down the wall panels, and flames burrowed into every corner like venomous snakes.

"He wants to burn us alive!"

Through the thick smoke, Belikov stared intently at the snow pit outside, a final flicker of ferocity rising in his eyes.

"Gerasimov, we can't wait any longer!"

Belikov grabbed Gerasimov’s shoulder with such force that his nails almost dug into his flesh.

He leaned close to the other person's ear, lowered his voice, and spoke so quickly it was as if he were giving his last instructions:

"Listen carefully, I've observed it. That old fox Ivanov is in that snow pit diagonally opposite. The gun in the woods is accurate, but it's a bolt-action rifle; after firing one shot, you have to pull the bolt back. He only has one chance. That bastard won't easily aim for the head; he's waiting for us to expose a large portion of our bodies. He wants a fatal blow."

Belikov wiped the blood from his face, his eyes filled with a terrifyingly sinister look:

"When the fire reaches the doorway, roll out to the left. Don't stop, fire randomly into the woods to lure out his first shot. As soon as that shot is fired, hide behind Nikolai's body as fast as you can."

Gerasimov trembled violently, his teeth chattering.

"And...and what about you?"

"I'm going to capture Ivanov!"

Belikov grinned, revealing a mouthful of bloodied white teeth, like a madman. "If you can trick me into giving you that one and a half seconds, I can reach the edge of the snow pit. As long as we drag that old fox back, we'll have a chance to survive!"

He gripped the short shotgun tightly with his right hand, while the charred flesh on his left hand throbbed faintly in the heat, but he didn't even flinch.

"Ready... Charge!"

With a low growl like that of a wild beast, Belikov, Gerasimov, prepared to die, gritted his teeth and charged out of the inferno.

Gerasimov, like a wild dog whose bottom had been scalded, plunged headfirst into the blinding snowlight outside.

He didn't dare to look up at all, and while scrambling and crawling behind Nikolai's body on his left, he hysterically pulled the trigger.

"Bang! Bang!"

The muzzle flash of the short shotgun was extremely conspicuous on the dim snowfield.

Almost at the same instant, a barely perceptible spark suddenly lit up deep in the forest.

"Bang!"

It was a thunderclap that was extremely deep, yet had a cold, metallic quality.

Gerasimov's body suddenly stopped in mid-air, as if he had been struck head-on in the chest by an invisible hammer.

The 7.62 caliber bullet, carrying terrifying kinetic energy, pierced through his chest cavity in an instant.

The moment the bullet pierced his body, it tore open a fist-sized hole in his back, and the sprayed blood mist instantly condensed into tiny ice crystals in the frigid air.

Gerasimov didn't even have time to scream before he crashed onto the snow like a rag, sliding two meters away, twitching twice before falling still.

"Now!"

Belikov let out a distorted roar from his throat, a roar born of extreme excitement.

He was waiting for this bullet to leave the barrel, waiting for Zhao Shanhe to pull the bolt and eject the empty cartridge case in that one and a half seconds!

Belikov was launched out, skimming the ground.

Instead of running in a straight line, he slid along the ground like a gray wolf, frantically lunging towards the slightly raised snow pit diagonally opposite.

Snowflakes flew wildly past his ear.

He seemed to hear a faint yet crisp metallic clanging sound coming from the woods:

"Click".

That's Death changing his scythe.

Belikov's eyes were bulging with veins, and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst.

He mustered all his strength and leaped, plunging into the snow pit before that cold gaze could lock onto him again.

Ivanov remained remarkably calm in the snow pit; the instant the kerosene lamp went out, he anticipated that Belikov would risk his life for that very second.

The old fox grabbed a handful of frozen soil mixed with ice shards and hurled it at them.

"Pfft!"

The cold mud and sand pelted Belikov's face.

Taking advantage of that half-second delay, Ivanov unleashed astonishing power, rolling backward in an attempt to create distance.

"Old dog!"

Belikov lunged forward like a mad dog, landing squarely on top of Ivanov.

The two rolled into a ball, Belikov's charred left arm tightly strangling Ivanov's neck, while his right hand held a short knife firmly against Ivanov's carotid artery.

At this moment, Zhao Shanhe had just pulled the second bolt.

Through the scope, Belikov hid most of his body behind Ivanov, the blade already pressing against him until blood was visible.

"Shoot!"

Belikov's voice was filled with utterly manic triumph as he roared into the woods from behind his human shield:

"Go ahead and shoot, you fucking idiot!"