<h4>Chapter 351: True Sniper Expert?</h4>


    In the middle of West Silvermoon City, there was a luxurious flower-shaped hotel building isted from other infrastructure. A group of yers was standing around, with some people rapidly applying Blood Tonics on themselves or fishing out bullets, Energy Crystals, and other supplies from their backpacks.


    There were even more people with their firearms or Energy converters raised, facing the dark, three-meter long hallway with transparent flooring, attacking three Elite yer-turned zombies.


    “Da, da, da...”


    “-244, -234!”


    “Bazoom...”


    “-545!”


    Dense bullets and Energy skill attacks interweaved, forcing the three Elite zombies many steps back. However, other than their heads, these types of T-Virus infected zombies did not have critical points — the damage was greatly reduced once they were hit.


    Therefore, even though the three zombies had been consistently pushed back by the force of the yers’ skills and bullets, there was one which had had its stomach busted and both its legs broken but still had its greyish lifeless eyes wide open as it roared and scrambled to crawl forward!


    “F*ck, these brats are really resistant!”


    “Sk, why did y’all bring along these three NPCs? With a situation like this, who still cares about missions!”


    “If it wasn’t for the three of them dragging us down, we would’ve definitely left the city by now. We wouldn’t have to be stuck here.” A Scout yer, wearing a ck Level 47 special operationsbat uniform with a sci-fi style submachine gun raised in his hands, had finished firing all the bullets in his magazine and was quickly changing it as he scolded with dissatisfaction.


    He wore a dark red-colored guild badge on his chest — there were three other yers in this team wearing the same badge. All their equipment appeared decent.


    There was a total of 17 people on the tform now; 14 yers plus three NPCs.


    Besides the team with Sk the Sniper, Ultimate Heavy Armor the Heavy Armored Warrior, and the “civilian” yer My World, there were four casual Elite yers led by this Scout.


    However, My World’s team members were already left with only four people.


    Two Maniptors out of the initial three female yers had chosen to forcibly pull themselves offline due to being unable to take the biohazard crisis plot, leaving one pale-faced female Doctor who did not dare to look ahead as she helped everyone replenish their HP with one eye closed.


    As for the three NPCs, they were Old John and two NPC sales assistants from the ammunition store.


    “I’ve said it before! This is a protection mission, and I had promised someone to ensure their safety!”


    “Moreover, this ce was originally very safe; if it weren’t for your people wanting to get points from attacking that Commander-Grade Tyrant, the alloy door of the linkway wouldn’t have been destroyed and we wouldn’t be in this situation now!”


    “Luckily, the Level of that Tyrant wasn’t high, and it had left when its HP was almost depleted. If not, everyone would’ve already been done for!” At the edge of the tform, Sk’s expression was simrly dissatisfied as spoke.


    “Ping!”


    “-2255!”


    The Level 50 12.7MM-caliber quality Excellent sniper rifle with a length of more than 1.5 meters in his hands fired, blowing up the head of an Elite zombie already left with minimal HP.


    “Ping!”


    Beside Sk, Watermelon Skin fired a Fine sniper rifle at the same time, but he had made a mistake again as the Normal armor-piercing bullet hit the chest of the zombie which had already been shot dead by Sk, resulting in a meaningless overkill!


    “Ah, I’m beaten...I really just can’t figure out why there are still so many people in the game who would choose the Sniper profession when one doesn’t make it in output and doesn’t make it in team battle Contribution either!”


    “Especially when they can’t bear to spend money, peasant yers choose the Light Armored Warrior or the Maniptor so that they can at least rely on skills for output. Would a Sniper without a sniper rifle with an attack power of 600 and above be of use to the masses on the battlefield?” the Scout yer asked in an enigmatic tone after seeing Watermelon Skin’s attack, sulky after being criticized by Sk.


    “Who says a Sniper is useless? Was it because of your submachine gun that we broke that Tyrant’s defenses?”


    Hearing those words, Watermelon Skin raised his head and shouted, looking unfazed.


    “Ah, you broke a defense once, but how high are your outputs throughout the entire process of fighting the boss, huh? Not mentioning anything else, is the Team Contribution of you two Snipers added together as high as mine? Furthermore, with this Death’s Star in my hands, would breaking the Tyrant’s defense again really be very hard?”


    The Scout yer seemed extremely satisfied with Watermelon Skin sounding out to argue with him as a secret smile shed his eyes. He deliberately raised his volume as the Level 45 Rare submachine gun in his hands, opened fire once more!


    “Da, da, da!”


    A string of blue-glowing bullets rushed out of the muzzle of the Rare-Grade submachine gun and hit the two remaining roaring Elite zombies. The two almost dying Level 40 and above Elite-Grade zombies had bullets flying through their bodies, both losing their lives in the blink of an eye!


    These were Energy-type special bullets of at least D-Grade and above — this Scout yer clearly belonged to the group of Star Coin yers who were not really concerned about money.


    “Don’t you look down on Snipers! True top Snipers would be able to absolutely y you with output from the same equipment and with the same Team Contribution!” Watermelon Skin’s face was a little grave as he rebutted defensively; when he said this, his expression was clearly a littlecking in confidence.


    After all, Snipers were indeed on the losing end in terms of output per unit time.


    Even though the damage of a Scout’s submachine gun could not match up to that of a sniper rifle, its firing speed was much faster, indeed able to surpass Snipers in output per unit time with the same equipment — this was an undeniable truth.


    But this was nothing more than a Scout who had met everyone an hour ago and joined the team in escaping from the zombies, an average yer who was so clearly mocking Snipers just because his equipment was good — it really frustrated Watermelon Skin.


    If it were not for the helpless situation, he would definitely have separated from this brat; the kind of person who loved to boast was absolutely not likable at all.


    “Yo, a true Sniper expert? Where is he? Don’t tell me you’re talking about Thousand Miles in your Storm City’s Top 10 Experts? Even so, there’s not much of a possibility to surpass me in output because my Talent is Critical Attack. Even if Thousand Miles had the S-Grade Talent True Eye... Don’t tell me you didn’t know that Thousand Miles had just been defeated by our North City’s Top 10 Expert, Onishi, just yesterday?”


    Having already finished off this wave of crisis, the Scout yer raised his Rare submachine gun and continued speaking boastfully. When he was speaking of his own Talent, pride shed across his eyes, but as he was mentioning the Onishi, his eyes shed a sense of admiration and intense jealousy.


    In the game, yers who thought that if the expert yers in their city were brilliant, they themselves would be just as brilliant weremon. At the same time, they would also look down upon the other cities or top yers with power — there were some yers who loved to use this as a reason to mock others!


    “Of course it’s not Thousand Miles, it’s...”


    Watermelon Skin could not help but spill it out.


    Appearing in his mind was a human silhouette in a dry desert surrounded by Desert Tarant corpses sprawled all over the ground, dead from being hit precisely at their critical points.