First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 17
Chapter 17: Data
Lian Sheng pointed among the group. With helmets on, she could only distinguish by voice, then singled out the most unfamiliar one.
She didn't know him, but had seen him once or twice—a boy who stood with Zhao Zhuoluo and others.
Tall and sturdy, with a solid frame and broad chest—clearly combat material. Yet his skin was fair, and his features lacked any aggressiveness. This left a deep impression on Lian Sheng.
Ye Buqing understood her meaning: "Ye Buqing."
Lian Sheng extended her hand: "Pleasure."
Cheng Ze hadn't been gone long before quickly crawling back. Lian Sheng was discussing their next moves with the group—her suggestion was to lure and flank as much as possible, avoiding direct confrontation. Everyone agreed wholeheartedly.
Just as they were about to advance further, Zhao Zhuoluo suddenly raised a hand to signal silence.
Not far off, Cheng Ze made a few more hand signals before turning to crawl away again.
Zhao Zhuoluo whispered: "Instructors are coming—two of them. On the main path ahead."
The group was slightly startled. What luck—just lying around and they show up?
"Spread out in all directions," Lian Sheng immediately ordered, then turned to remind Lu Mingyuan and the others: "You all hide yourselves well."
Zheng Lei was completely bewildered: "Spread where? What's the plan? Should we run?"
Lian Sheng took the gun from her back, cradling it while lowering her center of gravity to avoid exposure. Before moving, she turned back for a final word: "Run? They're delivering themselves to us—improvise as planned. Now scatter!"
Zheng Lei and Shen Yu, utterly directionless, watched as Lian Sheng approached the main path while Zhao Zhuoluo and Ye Buqing fanned out to either side. They had no idea how to proceed.
Zheng Lei spread his hands: "Did we even have a plan just now?"
Lu Mingyuan tugged at them, pointing ahead as he led their retreat backward.
Lian Sheng advanced, estimating the grass height and terrain. Using a sniper rifle risked exposure, so she stopped at a midway point to avoid mishaps. Setting up her rifle, she began adjusting its angle.
The two instructors kept glancing back, moving cautiously though not quickly. Fresh from mountain combat, they gradually neared the group's position.
Lian Sheng took a light breath. When they reached her line of sight, she pulled the trigger.
The two were alert. Hearing the shot, the inner instructor instinctively leaped back—too late. His shoulder signal light turned from yellow to red. His partner swiftly raised his gun, firing toward her position.
Lian Sheng tossed her sniper rifle right while rolling left through the grass, creating rustling disturbances on both sides.
The instructor frowned, momentarily confused by the feint. Before he could act, bullets came simultaneously from front and back diagonals. Unfortunately, the angles were poor—multiple shots missed as both men dodged.
Realizing the situation, they ignored Lian Sheng for now, taking cover behind trees. She seized the chance to retrieve her weapon.
"Damn!" one instructor said. "This many ambushers here?"
Already hit twice—one more would eliminate him—yet his voice held no panic, even sounding relaxed. Checking his nearly empty magazine, he figured he could still take a few down before exiting.
The other replied: "Waiting to pick us off? But instructors aren't easy prey."
"Three targets—one in the grass dead ahead, one in the bushes diagonally behind, another behind the rocks upper right, right? We've spotted them all," the instructor said, peeking cautiously while gripping his gun. "Where's the fourth? Already out?"
As he leaned out, a bullet whizzed past. Jerking back, he saw it miss the tree by five centimeters.
As expected—students' aim could be off.
Exchanging glances, they gestured toward the positions, planning to flank from behind and pick off the easier two first.
Before moving, a female voice shouted: "Run!"
Rustling came from all three firing positions. Peering out, they saw figures retreating.
Had they stumbled upon them by accident?
Few female students participated in these exercises—most were in Command Department. Compared to average girls they were fierce, but among male peers they seemed delicate.
Makes sense—this remote area saw little traffic. Why ambush here? Must've been a chance encounter. Getting one point satisfied them, and fearing counterattacks, they wisely withdrew.
Their poor marksmanship supported this theory. The missing teammate might have fallen in earlier skirmishes.
Nothing to fear.
Confirming each other's thoughts, they gave chase.
Lian Sheng's group had fled deeper. Seeing pursuit, they dove behind rocks and trees for cover.
The instructors split roles—one provided covering fire while the other advanced through grass to snipe.
Moving inward, the advancing instructor scanned for the three targets, deciding to pursue Lian Sheng first. As he stepped forward, an iron grip seized his ankle.
Someone had been hiding in the grass all along—a fourth squad member!
Startled, he gasped, lowering his arm to aim at Cheng Ze. But his rifle was too unwieldy for close combat. Cheng Ze yanked hard, toppling him.
His stray shot fired skyward as Cheng Ze pinned him down, choking his neck for a reversal. Then a blunt pain struck his chest—something had stabbed him.
Glancing down, he saw his signal light extinguished. The weapon? A wooden knife.
Cheng Ze rolled over, using him as a shield. The other three emerged, firing at the instructor still on the path.
He dodged but took a sniper round, realizing the trap—that earlier miss was deliberate. With his partner down, he turned and ran.
The group didn't pursue, leisurely approaching Cheng Ze. Meng Jiangwu and others also ran over from afar.
Cheng Ze pushed the "corpse" off, sitting up to brush himself off.
The "dead" instructor cracked an eyelid to see—not four, but a full eight-person squad.
Lian Sheng leaned in with a smile: "Friend, corpses don't peek."
The instructor obediently closed his eyes.
"Yo!" Rifle in one hand, Lian Sheng saluted him: "Thanks for the first kill."
Instructor: "..."
Students these days grew bolder—daring to mock instructors mid-exercise. Did she not know it was still early?
Kneeling, Lian Sheng took his gun and pried out bullets. Lu Mingyuan reminded: "We can't use instructor ammo."
Instructor weapons differed—their bullets incompatible. Hence the rules: students got ten rounds to steal from each other, while instructors had thirty non-replenishable shots. The melee weapons ensured instructors could stay active when ammo ran low.
Counting six remaining, she pocketed them: "No matter. I'll find a use."
Instructor-exclusive bullets—she had plans for them?
Zheng Lei picked up the gun: "Not taking this?"
Lian Sheng glanced: "No."
Right—with mobile armories everywhere, why choose unsustainable weapons? Zheng Lei tossed it aside.
Looking at the "corpse," Meng Jiangwu's group belatedly thrilled at their easy score—no casualties! Then, seeing the others' calm, they cooled down.
They'd contributed nothing—just free riders. What excited them might be routine for these veterans.
Meng Jiangwu asked skeptically: "You signaled earlier?"
"No," Lian Sheng said, standing. "Just improvised as discussed."
That's what felt unreal! In mere minutes—what opportunity? Had they even cooperated before? Where'd this rapport come from?
"Told you it wasn't hard." Shouldering her rifle, she pointed ahead: "Move."
The eight formed a line crossing the mountain's far side. Cheng Ze scouted ahead, Zhao Zhuoluo covered the rear, Lian Sheng stayed central.
This formation made Meng Jiangwu feel like a protected chick—wounding male pride. But the gap was real. The realization nearly brought tears.
Lost in thought, they marched on.
Lu Mingyuan, ahead of Lian Sheng, asked about their destination. Cheng Ze was vague—with no landmarks, altitude and orientation were unclear. Scouts usually reconnoitered first, then designated rally points.
But Lu Mingyuan hadn't coordinated signals with them.
Lu Mingyuan asked: "What trees? Dense foliage? Path width? Slope gradient? Any distinctive rocks or pits?"
Cheng Ze, overwhelmed, described what he could.
Lu Mingyuan queried directional details, cross-referencing his mental map: "Ah, that area's no good. We can't go straight there."
The group halted. Zhao Zhuoluo asked: "Why?"
Adjusting his helmet, Lu Mingyuan explained: "En route, we'll pass two forks and multiple intersections—inevitable encounters. Historical data shows heavy traffic near the target—potential large skirmishes. Worst case, another clash near the one-third mark."
Silence followed.
Lu Mingyuan turned: "Huh? Nobody got that?"
"We understood but..." Cheng Ze asked incredulously, "Senior... you're sure?"
From a brief description, he deduced all this? They'd expected possible encounters, but pinpointing locations? The mountain wasn't huge, but neither was it small.
Not that they doubted him—as the department's top analyst with textbook modeling skills. But battlefield models relied on scout intel for predictions. With no reconnaissance since arrival, this pure speculation seemed overly subjective.
Unfazed, Lu Mingyuan had them secure the perimeter while he sketched the route with a stick.
His professional, precise diagram included past battle data for clarity.
His vast database and mountain expertise provided insights they lacked.
"Data may vary slightly, but trends hold." Lu Mingyuan said. "Even without large fights, instructors will be there. Early on, with high activity, such prime spots won't be unguarded."
Zhao Zhuoluo's group stared intently at the scribbled map.
They'd explored this mountain thoroughly for the exercise, knowing the terrain well. But without historical data or probabilistic analysis, their understanding beyond key areas remained vague.
They'd thought terrain mastery sufficient. Lu Mingyuan's analysis revealed it as mere foundation—map potential was limitless.
His level of specialization was godlike—true modeling.
Indeed, leave professional matters to professionals.
Silence lingered.
"Teacher Lu" tapped his diagram: "Clear?"
The group nodded in awe.
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