Just after time travel, I was parachuted into the meat grinder of World War II. I started with an M1903 Springfield, with only three bullets, and all my teammates were wiped out. Behind them was the defeated defense line, and in front of them was the fully-organized armored division. Everyone thought this group of mercenaries were abandoned. But Feng Bo picked up a rusty Mosin Nagant, pulled the bolt, and licked his chapped lips in the snowstorm - he had a "battlefield master" system in his body. Every time he sniped a high-value target, his dynamic vision, ballistic prediction, and concealment capabilities would skyrocket. When the enemy's headquarters was blocked in the canyon by one man and one shot, the skyrocketing bounty amount rang out on the radio. From abandoned children on the front line to walking war machines, in eight hundred miles of enemy-occupied territory, he would feed bullets into the forehead of every enemy.
