Song Heping knew that the traps hurriedly constructed were very simple and crude, hardly constituting a significant threat.
But he wasn't seeking to inflict serious casualties on James's squad members, merely to create disruptions and exert influence, which would allow him to find an opportunity to strike.
The enemy saw him as prey, and he, in turn, treated them as his prey.
If the health bar is thick, just grind it down slowly.
In the jungle, Song Heping feared no one.
James quickly realized he had indeed underestimated his opponent.
For a distance of less than two kilometers, James's commanded Green Beret Team took a full hour to traverse!
James himself was startled when he checked the time again.
Although no one was injured again, he discovered more than a dozen makeshift traps while leading the way at the front of the team, all within just one kilometer's distance!
These traps, very few were real, the vast majority were fake.
Sometimes it was absurd to the point that a single vine lay across the path, which they had to examine carefully for a long time before realizing it was a hoax.
Not only that, but every time they stopped, they would come under fire.
Although they hadn't been hit, at times James even suspected that Song Heping fired without having a clear view of anyone.
These aimless shots never hit anyone in the team, but each time they managed to make the team stop in terror to take precautions.
Soon, some members of the team couldn't take it anymore.
"FUCK!"
The first to curse was Robert.
"This bastard is toying with us! He's just a coward! I'm going to catch him and peel off his skin strip by strip, torture him for hours, and let him die in agony!"
He swore with extreme malice, even somewhat hysterically.
But to James, it was just impotent rage.
The opponent was like an eel, impossible to catch, even though his men had spent years in the jungle undergoing survival training.
It showed just how fast the opponent was in the jungle.
How did he do it?
How could he be so physically strong and so well-adapted to this place?
Morins's explanation was plausible, but the other arms dealer?
Did he have this kind of capability?
What James didn't know was that Morins was not with Song Heping at all at that moment.
Every time, Song Heping let him go ahead while he stayed behind to deal with James and his men.
In Song Heping's words to Morins—don't stay and drag me down.
Pop pop—
Two more gunshots rang out in the distance.
"He's at the 11 o'clock position!"
James had just issued the warning when Robert, like an arrow, shot out.
"Robert, stop!"
James shouted from behind, but Robert didn't take it seriously at all.
He ran forward frantically with his gun, with only one target in mind—catch the enemy!
Previously, every time there was a gunshot, everyone would stop to find cover and then open fire in the direction of the gunshots.
But they soon realized something was wrong.
If they continued like this, their ammunition would be quickly depleted.
Obviously, it was another trap.
So now it was like don't shoot until you see the rabbit.
Don't fire until you see the person.
Robert soon disappeared into the front.
James immediately ordered, "Weber, Byron, follow! Assist Robert!"
"Yes!"
The other two members of the Vanguard Team immediately shouldered their rifles and chased ahead.
Lucas, responsible for the rear guard, said to James over the channel: "Colonel, this isn't working! We're just taking hits passively!" the usually calm veteran was also somewhat anxious, "He's trying to wear us down to death!"
"I know, do you think I haven't figured that out?!" James felt a surge of frustration building up in his chest, ready to explode.
"Colonel, shall we contact the Colombian government Army and ask them to send a helicopter to assist us?" Lucas began to sound the retreat.
In his opinion, it wasn't worth taking such a risk.
"Bullshit!" James wasn't in the mood to listen, recalling how he had lost his temper with Freddie earlier, pointing at him and boasting brazenly as if he could catch Morins with just a stretch of his hand.
To bow his head now, admitting defeat and asking for help from the enemy?
Nonsense!
That was impossible!
"Colonel! Something's happened!"
Weber's voice came through the earpiece.
"Robert is dead!"
This news was like a grenade exploding in the heads of all the squad members, leaving them in a stunned silence.
"What happened!? How did he die?!"
Before James could finish, sudden gunfire erupted.
"Contact! Contact!"
Byron's voice carried a hint of panic as a barrage of gunfire drowned out his shout.
"Follow up!"
James led the remaining team members as they frantically ran towards the direction of the gunshots.
But only halfway there, the gunfire suddenly stopped.
"Byron! Byron!"
There was no response.
"Robert! Robert!"
Still no response.
James realized that something serious had happened.
In his night vision goggles, a heat source suddenly appeared ahead.
James immediately stopped, hid behind a tree by the roadside, and then made several tactical hand signals to Franklin and Roger, who had come with him.
The two of them started to move forward alternately, one on the left and one on the right, with James in the middle position, also advancing by relying on the trees.
They weren't attacked.
It wasn't until James reached the heat source that he saw clearly that Byron was lying on the ground.
Byron was clutching his neck, and in the night vision goggles, the area around him was a pool of brightly highlighted liquid, he was bleeding out...
"Franklin!"
James shouted.
"Come here!"
Franklin hurried over and was shocked at the sight of Byron on the ground.
Byron wanted to speak, but he couldn't say a word.
Before Franklin had a chance to administer emergency treatment, Byron's head tilted, and he died...
Ten minutes later.
The remaining team members all gathered together.
Robert and Weber were also found.
All dead.
Robert had two wounds; one on his face, a 50-centimeter wooden spike had gone straight into his mouth, and another wound on his neck, sliced open to the width of a child's mouth, all his blood drained.
Of the three men, Weber died the most straightforwardly.
Shot in the head, very neatly that way.
"How did he do it..."
Lucas, who had just come up, trembled as he saw the scene.
"Colonel... we should retreat... This guy isn't human..."
"He is human!"
James suddenly reached out, grabbed Lucas by the collar, and yanked him forward.
Lucas heard a grating sound coming from between James's teeth.
"Are you even Special Soldiers? Scared stiff by this?"
The others were silent.
After a while, James finally gestured: "Everyone, come closer."
The team huddled together, and James issued orders in a low voice.
The tragic deaths of the three team members had driven James to madness.
But he had also calmed down considerably, finally coming to grips with the reality that the so-called "arms dealer" he was facing was no ordinary man, even if he himself had been through countless real combat missions but had never seen an enemy so tough and ruthless.
Now, he wasn't going to let Song Heping play him to death passively.
He decided to take the initiative.
The calmer James decided to do the opposite of what was expected.
He planned to set a trap for Song Heping.
After making the arrangements, he clenched his teeth and said to everyone, "Remember, today it's either them dead or us gone!"
While they were discussing tactics, hundreds of meters away from them, near a bush, Song Heping, panting heavily, had just set up another trap.
Within a hundred meters around this area, he had laid all kinds of haphazard real and fake rudimentary traps.
After doing all this, he sat down on the ground with a thud, leaning against the trunk of a tree.
His energy was completely spent, as using guerrilla and harassment tactics to entangle the Green Beret Team required a lot of physical strength.
He took off his tactical pack and started rummaging through it, looking for something to warm him up and boost his strength.
But then he realized a serious problem.
His food was completely exhausted.
The rations he had scavenged from dead bodies were all gone.
"Fuck..."
He felt somewhat regretful.
When he had killed the three Green Berets, he hadn't taken one of their tactical packs.
At the time, things were too urgent, and he was too tense, which caused him to forget about it.
Now there was no time to look for food, as James's team might catch up at any moment.
There were eight of them in total, and now three were dead.
There were five left.
If he could take out three more, the remaining two would be much easier to deal with!
But this was a life-threatening endeavor—one misstep and he could be the one to fall.
However, he felt no fear at all; on the contrary, he was somewhat excited.
Back in the army, his instructor had said he had an inherently antagonistic personality; despite appearing indifferent most of the time, once he entered a life-or-death confrontation, he became inexplicably excited, not knowing fear at all, very suited to being a Special Soldier.
Now it seemed that the instructor's assessment and profile of him were spot on.
What a keen judge of character!
He slung his tactical pack back on and suddenly, Song Heping's hand froze, he didn't move, but his gaze shot to the right, every hair on his body standing on end!
After a fraction of a second, Song Heping's right hand drew the dagger from his thigh with lightning speed and swung it with a speed beyond comparison!