Assassination

The cemetery in winter was a field of white. The boundaries between the white crosses or gravestones and the ground were blurred. Only a few vacant graves awaited their occupants, black holes one after another, like bottomless wells that no one could climb out of once they fell in.

Snow crunched underfoot, and the occasional dead branch snapped beneath their feet on the frozen ground as the group slowly approached the sedan parked by the roadside.

Then Su Ming suddenly sensed a wave of killing intent.

"Get down!"

He shoved Howard, who was still talking nonstop, to the ground. A bullet flew through the spot where Howard had been standing a moment earlier. Without hesitation, Su Ming dragged him behind a gravestone. At this angle, they were safe for the moment.

Snow clung to Howard's beard, and one of his lips had been split open, but he remained calm.

"Was that aimed at me?"

"Yes. If I saw it right, that shot was meant to blow out your heart." Su Ming crouched behind another gravestone.

"Did you bring a gun?" Howard patted himself down and pulled out a small mirror.

Of course Su Ming had brought guns. He had enough weapons on him to start a local war. Unfortunately, he could not take them out. His identity could not be exposed. Right now, he was a clean, law-abiding businessman with no fighting ability whatsoever.

Judging by the density of the fire, there was only one sniper. But the fact that the shooter had aimed for the heart rather than the head showed that he had a military or police background. He was not a true expert.

Snipers with absolute confidence in themselves usually preferred headshots because they were more lethal. A professional assassin like Deadshot could put a bullet in