This was almost the standard assessment process for rapid shooting.
Both sides had closed in at close quarters, and the opponent had undoubtedly identified him as the target.
He had to strike first, or there would be no way out.
Absolutely fast!
Relatively accurate!
Without hesitation, Song Heping drew his gun and fired.
The speed of drawing and firing that he mastered during his days in the Special Forces was now pushed to its absolute limit.
Bang, bang, bang—
The opponent had just started to pull his gun from under his clothes, but Song Heping's bullets had already arrived.
The warheads pierced three holes in the chest.
Direct hits!
But an unexpected turn occurred.
Despite taking three shots, the opponent seemed to only stagger backward slightly, not immediately collapsing to the ground.
Bulletproof vest!
Song Heping quickly reacted, moving rapidly to the left—towards a street corner leading to a narrow alley.
If there's one, there must be two.
A visible enemy in front meant there was surely a second lurking nearby.
Facing them head-on would put him at a severe disadvantage!
Unexpected situations test a Special Soldier's ability to react and their innate qualities.
Being a top-tier Special Soldier hinges greatly on their reflexes under pressure.
Fearless amidst danger, calm, and decisive.
These are essential qualities of a Special Soldier.
The CIA agent with the bushy beard was actually a "Watcher."
His orders were to rapidly converge on the Hamra District from his defensive position while searching for Song Heping en route. When found, he was to immediately send out intel and neutralize the target at the fastest possible speed.
This was a kill order.
Kelly had already classified Song Heping as an extremely dangerous individual.
No capturing alive, just a corpse.
This was her most pressing thought at the moment.
To eliminate Song Heping was to clean up the current mess entirely.
Otherwise, the consequences would be devastating.
Bang, bang, bang—
The bushy-bearded man fired several shots at Song Heping while retreating.
But Song Heping was already moving, with several tourists and pedestrians between them.
The bullets whizzed past the bystanders.
Soon, one unlucky person went down.
A European tourist screamed, clutching his shoulder and staring at the blood dripping between his fingers, screaming as if he'd seen a ghost.
The scene spiraled out of control.
The location of Beirut itself was highly sensitive.
Various attack incidents over recent years had just started to quiet down.
But the scars and memories still lingered in everyone's hearts.
The street gunfight instantly transported the local vendors, shopkeepers, and residents back to the terrifying years gone by.
Everyone screamed, panicked, and ran in chaotic terror like headless chickens.
Song Heping fired first to claim the initiative.
As the opponent began retaliating, he struck more pedestrians.
During his second rapid shooting move, Song Heping didn't give the opponent another chance, firing two shots straight to the head.
Bang, bang—
The bushy-bearded man had just aimed his gun but hadn't yet squeezed the trigger before receiving two lethal rounds.
Blood and brain matter exploded from his forehead, splattering the nearby pedestrians.
A woman dropped to her knees, her face covered in blood, hysterically screaming and repeatedly touching her own face before realizing it wasn't her brains.
Song Heping had already moved to the street corner.