Chapter 1213
Chapter 1213 Talking to a Smart Person (1)_1
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Silent jungle.
The moon hung in the night sky, casting soft moonlight like water, draping the jungle in a thin layer of light.
Flossie Wright clutched her sniper rifle, leaning against a tree, her gaze fixed lightly on the two people rummaging through "equipment" in front of her.
This was the first sniper team she had conquered.
A so-called sniper team generally consisted of just two people, one sniper and one spotter, who worked together in coordination.
Yet, to Flossie, neither of them seemed professional—it was as if they were there to bluff someone.
"Damn it, didn’t even get to shoot a single bullet before getting taken out like this."
"Who knew she’d be so good at hiding."
"Sigh, I’m done with this line of work, we’re not professionals, it’s embarrassing to even mention."
The two huddled together, muttering under their breath.
As they murmured, they pulled out their equipment.
A sniper rifle, several bullets, observation gear, two packs of compressed biscuits, a box of waterproof matches, two military daggers.
That was everything.
"That’s all of it."
The spotter carelessly tossed everything in Flossie’s direction, it seemed he wanted as little contact with her as possible.
"I don’t need the sniper rifle."
Watching them dispassionately, Flossie spoke in a tone that was neither warm nor cold.
She gestured that they could take the sniper rifle back.
After a glance at her, understanding that she already had a sniper rifle and didn’t need another as a burden, the spotter picked the rifle back up.
And then, they prepared to leave.
"Wait." Flossie raised an eyebrow and called out to the two of them.
"What now?!"
Turning abruptly, the sniper looked at her impatiently.
Lifting her eyes, a glint of light flashed through her dark pupils, and Flossie smiled as she asked directly, "Where are you guys from?"
"Ah, that," the spotter looked at her and rubbed his shoulder with a chuckle, "Sorry, but we’re dead meat, not prisoners—we can’t answer any of your questions."
"That’s not a conflict." Flossie shook her head slightly.
She wasn’t asking for routes or their ambush stronghold, information that had nothing to do with this assessment; answering wouldn’t reveal anything.
"Why don’t you take a guess."
The spotter’s smile faded; he had no intention of answering Flossie’s question.
"Non-professional," Flossie paused for a moment, then stood up straight, cradling her rifle as she took a couple of steps forward, and asked with raised eyebrows, "Borrowed from next door?"
"Wow." The spotter was quite surprised, then said, "Go on."
"No more guessing," Flossie shrugged, "you guys can go."
"Good luck to you."
The spotter wasn’t hostile, and he waved to her as he left.
However, the sniper, after taking another long look at Flossie Wright, followed the spotter and left.
Flossie furrowed her brow, watching the two depart.
She had already fairly guessed the origins of the pair.
At their Base, besides the amphibious reconnaissance team, there were other units; it was a rather large base, with frequent interactions.
But the last time the police needed a sniper and turned to Flossie and the other rookies, it proved that their Base had no other snipers.
Therefore—
Where did these snipers come from?
The only possibility was that they weren’t professional snipers, but sharpshooters with impressive marksmanship who had undergone brief training, intended solely to deal with someone like her.
Considering how she had easily ambushed them, Flossie was quite sure of this possibility.
— End of Chapter 1213 —