Chapter 20: Full-Power Bullet

Boom... Hum...

Following the thunderous roar of the violent explosion, Milton felt a wave of mild tinnitus and dizziness.

The extreme tension of combat and the shockwaves from various blasts can significantly impair a person's senses. This includes their perception of time. This is precisely why, in the heat of battle, most people rarely choose to "cook" a grenade—you might think you’ve held it for a second or two, but in reality, three or four seconds have already slipped by!

Yet, Milton suppressed the discomfort and the physiological fatigue from his relentless running, counting the seconds in his mind. He needed to estimate the time it would take for the enemy—who had just left to retrieve supplies—to return, so he could fire at the doorway and attempt to thin their ranks once more amidst the swirling smoke.

The enemy had likely moved about 15 meters away, but they wouldn't be walking slowly. A rough calculation suggested that firing at the doorway in eight seconds might yield a hit. Milton was currently positioned at the left fork of the intersection; after firing and revealing his position, he would have to retreat to the stairwell immediately, without a moment's hesitation.

"Milton is about to fire toward the one o'clock position, then retreat. I need cover. Watch for crossfire."

"Copy."

"Understood."

Bang, bang, bang...

Milton leaned out and fired five shots toward the doorway. Regardless of whether he scored a hit, he withdrew toward the stairwell exactly as planned.

However, he had barely taken two steps when a sharp "whiz" sound suddenly filled his ears.

This was... the distinct sound of bullets passing incredibly close to one's body!

At the same moment, several deafening roars erupted from the smoke-filled doorway.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Through his headset, Milton heard the gunfire and the sound of the nearby concrete wall shattering under heavy impact—the enemy had returned fire at his previous position! Had he stayed even a second longer, or if the smoke hadn't obscured the enemy's vision, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

But what sent a deeper chill down Milton’s spine was the harsh, clipped sound that emanated from his own abdomen.

Clang! Crack!

The hard armor plate had been struck... the ceramic had shattered...

Milton felt as if his abdomen had been struck by a heavy sledgehammer. His muscles felt as though they were being torn apart, and a dull, searing pain rapidly spread to his chest, followed by labored breathing and numbness in his limbs.

He had been hit.

But this power... that wasn't right. How could standard rifle fire cause this much damage to Level III armor plates?! It was nearly a penetration!

Driven by a fierce instinct to survive and the remnants of his rationality, Milton maintained his composure. He only swayed slightly before continuing his retreat toward the stairwell as planned. His two teammates were laying down covering fire at the doorway; he had to capitalize on this window to escape.

There was no shouting or frantic scrambling. Only after retreating into the stairwell and ducking behind fresh cover did Milton take two deep breaths, trying to keep his voice from trembling. There was no time for lingering fear; he had to immediately report the information he had just gathered.

"I’ve been hit. Minor injury."

Brandon, who was in the middle of reloading, felt his heart sink. "This..."

Milton forced his teammate to suppress his shock. "It’s nothing major. Don't forget, I have body armor."

His calm, steady demeanor bolstered Brandon and "Boss," whose voices sounded a bit more relaxed. "So, proceed with the original plan?"

Milton winced in pain and looked down at his vest. The good news was that the bullet hadn't penetrated the plate. The bad news was the caliber...

"Yes. Reporting intel: based on my preliminary assessment, the enemy is using an FN FAL rifle, chambered in 7.62x51mm NATO, M80 ball."

A full second of radio silence followed.

The FN FAL, the "Right Arm of the Free World"—a legendary weapon known for its power, accuracy, cost-effectiveness, and ease of maintenance. And the ammunition it fired was a "full-power cartridge."

A full-power cartridge!

This was also the upper limit of the protection offered by Milton's vest. The NIJ Level III standard is designed to withstand direct hits from M80 bullets with muzzle velocities below 847 m/s. However, the biggest issue with ceramic plates is their poor multi-hit capability and weak edge protection. Once struck and cracked, the defensive performance in the surrounding area drops significantly. Plus, the edges are notoriously vulnerable... Even if he were lucky and the bullets didn't strike the same area, the sheer kinetic energy of a full-power round hitting the limit of the armor would inevitably leave the wearer briefly incapacitated.

In close-quarters indoor combat, the effectiveness of body armor is greatly diminished compared to open-field warfare, because life and death are decided in seconds—incapacitation is equivalent to death!

In other words, each of them likely had only one chance to be hit.

There was no room for error left...

If they were hit again, the result would be death!

The only silver lining was that the enemy had truly been caught off guard; otherwise, few would choose to use a bulky, hard-to-control weapon like the FN FAL indoors.

As Milton adjusted himself, struggling to recover from the impact, he vaguely heard four sets of disorganized footsteps approaching... they sounded close to the intersection.

Four seconds later, the sound of two grenade explosions followed.

Boom! Boom!

Hiding behind cover and enduring the pain from his wound, Milton spoke. "The enemy has grenades and prefers using them to clear potential safety angles rather than slicing the pie."

"Tactical deployment, now."

"'Boss,' you're using a submachine gun, which is more agile. Guard the stairwell entrance. Shoot the moment you see an enemy, then retreat. Their weapons are too cumbersome for this environment; your armor and our cover are enough to protect you."

"Brandon, move to the floor below, to the corner. Do not expose yourself. As soon as 'Boss' fires, pull out and engage to form a crossfire."

"Don't be afraid. You must follow the plan, or we all die."

In truth, Milton didn't want to issue such wordy tactical instructions, but his teammates weren't professional soldiers or SWAT officers; he had to keep their morale steady.

Both positions were extremely dangerous, but neither offered any objections and quickly moved into place. Because Milton’s position moments ago had been even more perilous... the leader had taken the most dangerous job and had even been wounded; how could they complain?

They weren't afraid of danger—they were only afraid of being left with all the risk while others stayed safe. Milton clearly wasn't that kind of teammate, so they obeyed.

"If they toss a grenade, make sure to throw one into the same spot before you retreat. Otherwise, if they haven't pulled the pin and we're already retreating, we’ll be giving them our backs. Understand?"

"Copy."

As the three of them communicated, the enemy's clearing of the intersection was nearing its end.

Just then, another massive explosion echoed through the space. The booby trap in the utility room had been triggered!

"Good..." Brandon couldn't help but console himself. "At least the numerical disadvantage has been leveled."

Their firepower, armor, and physical condition were inferior, but at least they had the defender's advantage!

The enemy was clearly thrown into chaos by the second trap for a moment, but soon, Milton heard three sets of footsteps pushing toward the stairs again.

"They've lost two men without retreating; their morale is high, and they are confident in their gear. That enemy with the heavy armor and the FAL should be fine."

"Prepare to engage."

Milton hid behind the wall, waiting for the battle to begin.

The enemy was closing in.

The footsteps sounded as if they were right in his ear.

And then, he heard the sound of something being tossed into the room.

Thud... Thud...

A grenade!