There was a burst of bright sparks.

"Fuck you!"

With the warhead being bounced to an unknown place, the wild boar rushed towards me at high speed while breathing flames. I rolled to the side in horror. At this moment, I suddenly remembered that I had turned over in a certain battle before.

Memories of dodge RPG.

While I was rolling desperately, my right arm accidentally hit a raised stone on the ground. The instant pain from the joint made me reflexively let go of my right hand holding the gun.

Suddenly I felt a chill, and my breathing rhythm began to become chaotic.

When I regained my balance again, I hurriedly pulled out the pistol from the holster on my leg with my left hand and fired three shots in the direction of the wild boar. This was accompanied by a burst of painful howling, which made me subconsciously determine that I had hit.

I found my target. I quickly stood up and took a closer look, and suddenly I was happy. The bone spur on the head of that weird wild boar was actually stuck on the stone pier of the bridge. It was now twisting its body desperately trying to pull out the bone spur, but it failed.

Very slightly. I really didn’t expect that this stone and brick bridge pier that looked like it was made of mud would be so strong, and I also observed that the three shots just now all hit the wild boar’s butt.

It's a pity that I only carry a 9mm caliber pistol with FMJ ammunition. Although I don't hate the Beretta series, the very unfamiliar shooting feel is really not as smooth as the Glock 37 that I have used all year round. It's a pity that I

Because the number of .45GAP in stock was too small, I chose the newly purchased Beretta 90TWO. The reason for purchasing these two new guns was not only because they looked a bit fashionable, so I was interested in them, but more importantly, I had accumulated them over the years.

The 9x19mm handkerchief bullets are almost hairy, so I urgently need a batch of 9mm caliber weapons to consume the excess ammunition, otherwise I will definitely let this wild boar taste the taste of having its butt blown off by a .45 caliber warhead.

"The wild boar was sprinting really fast just now...it almost didn't escape."

While I was thankful, I also looked at the pierced pier with some worry. The stone brick that looked very strong was actually pierced by its bone spurs as easily as a steel nail shot into a wooden board. This power was almost overwhelming.

The armor-piercing bullet of the tank gun was loaded. I picked up the M1A with some fear and walked behind the wild boar. When the wild boar noticed my presence, it immediately stopped wailing and roared loudly, and then sprayed out from its mouth.

There was such an unreasonably large ball of flames that I horrifiedly picked up my rifle and fired a shot at the softer right side of the back of its head. This time, this weird wild boar finally lay motionless on the ground.

I took a few steps back cautiously, took a deep breath, and then slumped down on the ground. I stared blankly at the blackened stone bricks of the bridge piers in front of me. Inadvertently, I glanced at the nearby bridge deck that collapsed into the river.

"This bridge...could it be you who did it?"

When I was resting for a while, the birds flew over merrily again. I stretched out my hand to catch the little bird that was about to rush into my face, but when it was about to get close to my hand, it suddenly turned and flew away.

When I got to a position far away from me, I was stunned for a long time by this action, wondering if it was because the firearm in my hand made them afraid. Although I was a little sad, I quickly adjusted my mentality and started dismembering the wild boar on the spot.

Because I don't want to take this body that smells like blood back to the camp for disposal.

After nearly half an hour of hard work, I started packing the pieces of meat to take back to the camp. I took out a thin tarpaulin from my backpack and put four pork legs and cut ribs into the canvas bag.

Okay, as for the offal part, although I really like eating it, I gave up after thinking about this unknown creature. The relatively complete pig skin seemed very good. I originally wanted to take it back and make it into a pillow, but I didn’t know how.

After processing the fur, it was finally discarded in the same place.

After everything was prepared, I spent a few more minutes recovering all the bullet casings on the ground and the 9mm warheads dug out of the wild boar's butt. As for the 7.62 warhead that penetrated the back of the wild boar's head and the one that was bounced off, I still gave up.

, the former has already penetrated into the ground, while the latter really doesn’t know where the bullet has gone. Besides, it’s already getting late and I don’t want to waste time searching. As for the reason for doing this, I just want to hide my traces as much as possible.

Premature Aboriginal discovery.

On the way back, the group of birds seemed to be following me again. My previous assumption seemed incorrect. They were not afraid of my firearms, but because they hated the smell of gunpowder smoke on my hands. The evidence is that the little bird was at the moment.
Chapter completed!