Chapter 68: The Decisive Strike

From the very beginning, Trainer Jeremy had been laying out his strategy. After the sudden ambush, his decision to take out the sniper was born of an unwavering confidence in victory. This certainty stemmed from his unique burst ability—though he would need time to recover afterward, at this moment it was fatal for David.

Two sniper rounds struck the shield of white light. The shield wavered violently but did not dissipate. It was as if Jeremy possessed a mastery over the shield itself; though battered, it did not slow him. Most of the force from the twin sniper rounds was deftly redirected the instant they hit the shield.

At four hundred meters, David fired four more sniper bullets. The white light shield trembled repeatedly. At three hundred meters, he fired another three times. The shield, after absorbing the final round, scattered into white motes, vanishing along with the luminous armor that had encased Jeremy.

Now within two hundred meters, Jeremy closed in. The Death’s Eye replica had lost much of its effectiveness—though the T3 Sniper Assist Device could auto-adjust, at such close range, aiming became more difficult instead of easier.

David leapt from the ground, sweeping his hands behind his shoulders and drawing two Level 2 longswords. He was not a pure marksman. He lacked the nerve to keep firing as the enemy rushed him. Yet, in close quarters, he was far more formidable than any true sniper—he wielded two Level 2 longswords and had achieved eighty percent proficiency in sword mastery.

“Kill!” David steadied himself, easing the recoil in his body, adjusted his breathing, and shouted as he charged.

The two met just fifty meters from the sniping position.

Jeremy’s face was deathly pale, yet his eyes glinted with cruelty. He was surprised to find David wielding a pair of Level 2 swords, but no matter how strong a weapon was, it depended on the wielder.

Though unarmed, Jeremy struck first as they closed. A streak of white light lashed out like a whip.

David twisted away nimbly, dodging the glowing whip, and swept his sword at it in return.

Jeremy made no attempt to evade; the white whip met the sword head-on.

With a hissing sound, the whip coiled around the blade, its tip darting toward David’s sword hand like a serpent.

Even with all his combat experience from simulations, David had never encountered such a bizarre attack. His reflexes were lightning-quick, though: he sidestepped, slashing the whip with one sword, while the other swept toward Jeremy’s wrist.

Jeremy was startled by David’s skill. This was no ordinary swordsmanship—who could possess such mastery with the blade and still be a deadly sniper?

His killing intent only deepened. To slay a genius was a thrill.

With a flick, the whip transformed into a glowing longsword. Jeremy gripped the hilt in both hands, launching a relentless frontal assault.

David soon realized that Jeremy’s swordsmanship was at least his equal. Moreover, Jeremy’s style, reminiscent of heavy two-handed swordplay, forced back David’s agile dual-blade technique.

Jeremy’s every strike was flawless—strength, speed, and footwork blended with seamless precision.

All David could do was retreat, step by step, to lessen the pressure.

Though Jeremy held the advantage, he found little satisfaction. David’s retreat was not disorderly. His dual-blade style excelled at drawn-out skirmishes. Jeremy had no desire to drag this out—at any moment, Skynet might discover their presence.

He didn’t know that David had already seized control of the entire industrial district’s security system, making Skynet’s detection far less likely. Until Skynet noticed anything amiss, it would not pay this place any mind.

As he retreated, David’s twin swords continued to threaten Jeremy’s vital points, forcing him to remain cautious.

Anyone familiar with the fighting style of Froman, commander of the Wolf Mercenaries, would be surprised. David, who had inherited Froman’s blade mastery, was not engaged in a pure running battle—his retreat was calculated, purposeful.

Attack and withdrawal—the fight reached a stalemate.

“Die!” Jeremy suddenly struck his own chest with force. His eyes blazed with unnatural brightness.

David felt an invisible spike pierce his mind. In an instant, agony exploded in his brain, his body went limp, and he collapsed backward.

Blood dripped from Jeremy’s mouth; his body wavered. This move was powerful but drained much of his mental strength.

Especially after the prolonged battle—his stamina and spirit were already at their limits. This final burst left him even weaker.

Yet Jeremy had absolute faith in the outcome. Against such a psychic assault, not even a fully-armored warrior could withstand it, let alone David.

The mind was the hardest force to command. Even with the proper inheritance, Jeremy could manage only a single psychic attack.

“David, you’ve lost!” Jeremy laughed, blood staining his teeth and lending his face a gruesome cast.

David’s state was peculiar. His true self was wracked by irresistible soul-deep pain, leaving him paralyzed and utterly powerless.

But as he retreated, he had shifted part of his consciousness into the shadow attendant’s body, which was wholly unaffected.

While Jeremy was laughing, the invisible shadow attendant crouched behind the Death’s Eye replica. At such close range, aiming was unnecessary—simply aligning the barrel with Jeremy, less than ten meters away, was enough.

“You truly are a genius, but destined to be a genius slain by my hand!” Jeremy walked forward, speaking as he came.

He knew well the effects of his psychic assault. The fact that David could still hear him only proved David’s natural mental strength.

But this was to be expected. All geniuses possessed sharper minds, enabling them to learn faster and rise higher.

David’s body hovered on the brink of unconsciousness; the pain did not ebb with time but gnawed ever more at his psyche. He struggled to open his mouth, as if to speak, but no words came.

“Any last words?” Jeremy leaned in mockingly.

At that moment, he failed to notice that the barrel of the Death’s Eye replica on the ground was perfectly aligned with his head.

Suddenly, Jeremy was seized by bone-chilling dread. He tried desperately to move, but his wounded, weakened body refused to obey.

With a thunderous crack, the last sniper round in the Death’s Eye replica roared from the barrel.

At such short range, not even Jeremy at full strength could have dodged the shot.

Through the eyes of his shadow attendant, David saw the final expressions on Jeremy’s face: disbelief, terror, despair, and a trace of regret.

All of David’s combat experience came from simulated battles, but in his previous life he had been an IT professional with solid programming skills. He viewed combat as a process of coding—preparing contingencies for every possible vulnerability, just as he had backup plans for defeat.

Never had he imagined that Jeremy would be so formidable, so much so that the Death’s Eye replica would have little effect.

Indeed, given Jeremy’s power, had David not used the Death’s Eye to shatter his luminous armor, he would have stood no chance once the enemy closed in.

Clad in white light armor, Jeremy resembled a warrior in exoskeletal power armor—there was little difference between the two in terms of combat strength.