Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C165

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Chapter 165: Attagirl!

Amidst the shouts and pounding footsteps, the sharp, staccato bursts of the rang out continuously. Spent shell casings clattered to the ground, bouncing away. As Wang Ping pushed open the car door and jumped out, a sudden, piercing scream erupted from behind him, causing the gunfire to abruptly cease.

Peering under the car, he spotted a man lying on the ground, clutching his arm in agony. Blood spurted from the back of his outstretched hand.

"Nice shot!" Wang Ping muttered approvingly, gripping the strap of the canvas bag with one paw while dragging the rifile case with the other. Without hesitation, he bolted into the swirling dust.

"There! He’s over there!"

The shout came from one of the men who had been about to drag the injured person toward cover. Startled by the commotion caused by Wang Ping, the others quickly ducked back down, using the as a shield while blindly firing their guns forward.

"My hand! Cover me! Help me!" the wounded man wailed repeatedly.

"Shut up! It’s not even broken. Pick up your damn gun!" another snapped harshly.

Thwack! A hard rubber pellet suddenly zipped past from the side, narrowly missing one man who had bent down to reload his weapon. Startled, he broke into a cold sweat and shouted frantically.

"On the left! He’s on the left!"

"Shoot him!"

"Where is he?!"

"I can’t see anything! Shit!"

Amidst the chaos, a figure clad in knelt low in the northeastern edge of the sandstorm, blending seamlessly with the haze. She held a silencer-equipped pistol in her hand, its barrel trained on the position of the Hummer.

After about half a minute, the pistol emitted a soft pop. The instant the rubber bullet left the muzzle, the figure rolled to the side, sprang to her feet, and darted northward. Almost immediately, another anguished scream erupted from within the swirling sand. Barely two seconds after she moved, bullets slammed into the spot where she had just been, sending shards of gravel flying.

By now, two of the men near the Hummer were already injured. One sat slumped against the car door, sweating profusely as he used his good hand to hold the gun. The other, the driver, was cursing loudly while clutching his rear end—though the exact wound wasn’t visible, it seemed dangerously close to hitting the bullseye.

"They are hiding in the sandstorm; we can’t pinpoint their position! Think of something, quick!" someone shouted desperately.

"It’s just one person! We’ll guard all four directions. If you see them, shoot!" another commanded firmly.

At this moment, the man clutching a dropped its magazine and reached for his waist—but found nothing. Panicking, he spun around and yanked open the rear car door.

The rear door on the opposite southern side was already wide open, though he didn’t notice. Leaning fully inside, he bent down to grope around the floor—but froze.

“Shit! Who has the magazines?”

“The magazines? Aren’t they still in the car?”

“They should be in the canvas bag!”

“Fuck! Our ammo’s been stolen!”

“What?!”

Pop! Another soft sound rang out. The man leaning halfway into the car let out a sharp cry of pain and scrambled inside. His calf, previously exposed, was now bleeding profusely—a rubber bullet lodged deep in the flesh.

“At this rate, we’re all going to die! Let’s retreat!” someone shouted loudly.

“Retreat? You coward! They’re just using ! Don’t forget how we got here! If we retreat now, the boss will send someone to kill us!”

“Get in the car! There’s only one of them! We’ll drive through!”

In the chaos, the group scrambled into the nearest doors. The only one still unscathed was the man who had been sitting in the front passenger seat earlier. Now behind the wheel, he instinctively reached for the ignition—but found the key slot empty.

“Where are the keys?” he demanded, turning toward the driver nursing his wounded rear end in the backseat.

“Shit, aren’t they right there?!” the driver barked without looking back, kneeling on the rear seat and aiming his weapon out the window.

“Fuck! The keys aren’t here! Whoever took them, bring them back now!”

“I didn’t take them!”

“They’re not with me!”

“Oh shit!”

Bang! Bang!

As the group bickered, they fired blindly out the windows.

“Save your bullets! Our ammo’s gone!” the man in the driver’s seat yelled. Just as he finished speaking, a rubber bullet struck the windshield, forcing him to duck reflexively.

“Fuck!”

He cursed loudly, pounding the backrest of his seat in frustration. Then, pulling a knife from his belt, he pried open the dashboard panel beneath the steering wheel and began rummaging through the wires for the ignition.

About forty meters northeast of the Hummer, a figure dressed in khaki fatigues, goggles, and a mask lowered her pistol. She ejected the empty magazine and muttered an expletive under her breath. Her earpiece crackled with updates from Iru and inquiries from Luke.

After a moment’s thought, she rose and sprinted westward, circling around the Hummer to return to her original hiding spot—a concealed on the southern side. Pressing her earpiece, she replied coolly, “Four targets total. They’ve got ; close-range firepower is strong. Give me some time.”

Her voice, crisp and calm, was swallowed by the howling wind. Less than twenty meters away, a small silhouette froze momentarily amidst the chaos.

---

Racing back to her hiding spot, Anna lifted the camouflage tarp covering her foxhole and slipped inside. The cramped space barely allowed room for movement, housing only a backpack and a few essentials.

Reaching into the backpack, Anna retrieved the remaining half-box of rubber bullets and hastily loaded them into two empty magazines. Outside, the wind whipped the tarp, producing a steady flap-flap sound, occasionally accompanied by the rumble of rolling dirt clods.

Someone spoke over the radio, prompting Anna to frown and respond tersely, “I know! If they choose to retreat, I won’t pursue.”

With the two magazines loaded, she decided to empty the rest of the bullets into her pocket and stepped out of the foxhole. However, just as she emerged, her foot caught on something that flipped over unexpectedly.

Thud!

Anna tripped and fell hard onto the ground. From nearby, Wang Ping watched in stunned silence as the familiar figure stumbled out of the foxhole, inadvertently kicking over the black case he’d placed discreetly at the entrance.

Wang Ping: ...

“If I say this wasn’t intentional, would you believe me?”

“What the hell is this?”

Anna sat up, bewildered, and turned to see the black case lying at her feet. Opening it, she discovered a disassembled inside. Instinctively, she pressed her earpiece and asked, “Sama, did you come by here?”

“No way,” Sama’s voice crackled back, amid what sounded like Iru yelling in the background. “With visibility this bad, I’m not risking getting shot up.”

“Hmm… strange…”

Muttering to herself, Anna glanced between her pistol and the sniper rifle pieces. Decisively, she holstered her pistol and began assembling the sniper rifle.

---

“Attagirl!”

Wang Ping stood hidden less than five meters away, crouched behind the canvas bag he’d dragged along. His diminutive size made him nearly invisible. But in his excitement, he leaned forward too eagerly, pressing his weight onto the bag.

Ker-chunk!

A metallic clattering noise erupted as the contents inside shifted—pistol parts and magazines colliding against each other.

Anna paused mid-assembly, then swiftly drew her pistol, pulled the slide back, and crept low toward the source of the sound.

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