Chapter 695

The first thing to arrive was the explosion. Rambo instinctively threw himself flat on the ground.

Then came the whistling gunfire.

It flashed past, echoing dully through the valley. Crimson beams wove between the trees, heavy footsteps abruptly appeared, followed by many battle cries Rambo could not understand.

He could not understand them, but he was deeply shaken.

A man wearing a helmet charged out of the woods. His uniform was black and green, and a cold, stern Double-headed Eagle was printed on the top of his helmet, staring mercilessly at Rambo.

Amid the rain of beams, he reached a hand toward Rambo and spoke a short, forceful sentence. Rambo did not understand it, yet a smile appeared on his face of its own accord.

A familiar feeling had returned.

He gripped that hand and stood up from the ground. The man glanced at the M16 on him, grinned, then pointed into the mountains and woods. He extended his right index finger and made a shooting gesture.

Rambo looked at him, then at the indistinct figures among the trees, and suddenly shoved him aside. At some point, he had already gripped that combat knife in his hand. A dark shadow lunged at him.

The pale face, lit by the scarlet beams, was like a vicious ghost from Hell. Its gaping mouth had exceeded the limits of how wide it could open, its masseter muscles torn apart, black blood pouring out. Rambo saw it all with perfect clarity.

His thoughts seemed to slow, but his movements did not.

The knife thrust out, and he felt it sink into flesh.

He was knocked to the ground and heard a curse filled with anger. The weight on him suddenly lightened. The monster that had tackled him was yanked away by the man. Gunfire