In front of a mass grave, he was randomly shot and executed by his own people. **
The moment the bullet flipped over the Tianling cover, the ghost sniper Mo Bai, who had been lurking for three years, smiled behind the scope. He had already calculated the trajectory accurately - a ricochet deflected by 0.1 Mm, just enough to crush the cyanide poison sac in the wisdom tooth. When the enemy happily came to cut off his ears to claim the reward, the "corpse" had already broken three Adam's apples with his backhand, and took away the opponent's most advanced rangefinder.
A true sniper never cares about the finger on the trigger.
**"Reporting to the commander, the traitor Mo Bai has been suppressed!"**
That night, gunfire rang out on time at the enemy's celebration banquet. Between the eyebrows of the Japanese major general, a blood flower precisely calibrated eight hundred miles away bloomed. While they were hurriedly attacking the "ghosts", Mo Bai was wrapped in a stolen military coat and roasting sweet potatoes in the ammunition depot of the headquarters - and by the way, he touched nine copies of the troop deployment map.
**But no one knows: He has actually not eaten for three days. **
