bullyxtreme Chapter 19 Current Situation
Chapter 19 Current Situation
After cursing for a long time, the system remained unresponsive. Lu Ye grew tired of cursing and finally quieted down.
[Should I increase my Perception attribute to 2/5? 400 points can be exchanged for one day of lifespan!]
"Fuck you! You bastard!" This time Lu Ye really exploded and started cursing for half an hour.
Agility attribute increased to: 11 (maximum 20)
[Basic Shooting: Upgraded from LV4 to LV5 (Static Shot Hit Rate Increased by 70%; Dynamic Shot Hit Rate Increased by 35%)]
After calming down and careful consideration, Lu Ye decided to allocate one attribute point to Agility and keep the skill point in Basic Shooting. He reserved 1400 points and one attribute point for unforeseen circumstances.
[Host: Lu Ye]
[Position: Private (Probationary Period), Foreign Mercenary Auxiliary Company, 3rd Defense Brigade]
Life expectancy: 15 days and 15 hours (death will occur in 15 days due to a ruptured brain tumor)
[Constitution: 9/10]
【Strength: 8/10】
Agility: 11/10
Perception: 0/5
Points: 1400
Skills: Basic Shooting (upgradeable at LV5), Quick Reload (passive), Basic Tactical Movement, Basic Weapon Maintenance
Inventory: Empty (Not unlocked)
[Points Mall (Partially Unlocked)]
[Currently available attribute points: 1]
Lu Ye was still hesitating whether to add his last attribute point to perception when he heard the military doctor urging him.
"Alright, next!" The medic waved his hand impatiently, then turned and yelled outside, "Move that guy with the intestines sticking out to the corner! Don't fucking block the way, I can't save dead men!"
Stepping out of the smoky medical tent, a gust of cold wind hit him, carrying the pungent smells of gunpowder, rotting flesh, and cheap tobacco, instantly clearing Lu Ye's muddled mind and angry emotions.
The skills and items he had just seen in the system shop were like a fire, igniting his deepest desire for survival.
We must make money and acquire resources!
Lu Ye took a deep breath of the cold air and looked up to survey the forward position of the "17th Cannon Fodder Battalion".
The drafty canvas tents lay askew on the muddy, cratered ruins. Those who had been "cannon fodder" huddled in twos and threes around the faint campfire.
Many of them didn't even have a complete set of military uniforms. They wore tattered down jackets and held rifles in their hands. The only emotions in their eyes were despair and numbness.
"Please, sir... give me a shot of morphine!"
In a muddy ditch not far away, a soldier whose leg had been blown off was clinging tightly to the boot of a logistics officer, his voice filled with sorrow.
"Get out of here! Can you afford to pay for the dirt you've dirtied my new boots?!" The logistics officer, wearing a peaked cap, kicked the wounded soldier hard in the chest, sending him tumbling into the mud.
Then, the officer turned and yelled at several soldiers who were carrying wooden crates: "Hurry up! Take those two crates of winter clothing and penicillin to Major Vorov's quarters!"
"And those military-grade canned meats—the major said we can't waste these high-end goods on these good-for-nothings who won't live to see tomorrow! Drain those moldy black breads from last month and give them to them for dinner!"
"Sir, but the weather forecast says there will be a blizzard tonight. They won't freeze to death without winter clothing..." an old soldier carrying supplies pleaded boldly.
"Freeze to death? That's because their lives are cheap!" The officer sneered, taking out an expensive cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.
"Major Vorov said, what right does a piece of trash who can't even hold a position have to wear a winter coat?"
Lu Ye stood in the shadows, coldly watching this scene, his fists unconsciously clenching at his sides, his determination to become stronger growing even stronger.
Struggling to control his anger, Lu Ye strode across the muddy clearing and found the rest of the squad next to an abandoned armored vehicle at the edge of the camp.
Dmitry was sitting on the ammunition box, silently wiping the rifle in his hands.
Alexei and Anton sat to one side, the atmosphere still somber, clearly not yet recovered from the grief of losing Seryozha.
"Captain." Lu Ye stepped forward, his voice low.
Dmitri looked up, his weathered and scarred face showing exhaustion: "Is the arm treated?"
"It's a minor injury, nothing serious."
"Lu, was this the camp you were in when you first arrived at the battlefield?"
"No, Captain."
Dmitry pondered for a moment, then instructed, "Everyone is here. I believe you've all noticed that this camp is completely different from a regular camp. Tonight, we'll take turns on night watch."
"Lu, you're a new recruit who was injured and went through a battle before entering the camp. You're on the first shift! The others, in order, are Alexei, Anton, Maxim, Victor, and I'll be on the last shift!"
Lu Ye nodded along with the others, knowing that this was a special favor the captain was giving him.
On the eastern Ukrainian plain in the early morning, there were no birdsong and no sign of life. The occasional sporadic artillery fire in the distance reminded everyone that this was the eastern Ukrainian front.
Here, being blown to pieces by artillery shells in one's sleep is not uncommon, and being able to see the sun rise the next day safely is an immense luxury.
Lu Ye jerked his eyes open from the cold, damp cot and instinctively reached for the SVD sniper rifle beside his pillow. The realistic feel of the metal barrel eased his tense nerves slightly.
A throbbing pain came from the wound on my left arm; the anesthetic had long since worn off.
Lu Ye put on the blood-stained training uniform and pushed open the canvas door of the makeshift tent.
The scene before him made him frown slightly. In the open space not far away, hundreds of ragged "cannon fodder" were gathered.
"Get out of here! This is what I got in exchange!" A burly soldier kicked another skinny soldier to the ground, stuffed the muddy bread into his mouth, and cursed indistinctly.
"That damned fat pig, Vorov! He sold all the winter coats and canned meat on the black market! He even confiscated the damn antibiotics!"
"Shut up!" said a one-eyed veteran coldly.
"If his supervisory team hears this, you'll be the next one tied to the barbed wire and used as a target. Last night, the wounded soldiers who came back from the front lines wailed in their tents all night because they didn't have painkillers or anti-inflammatory drugs. Vorov found it noisy and just sent his supervisory team in to treat the seriously wounded."
As Lu Ye listened to these scattered curses, a chill ran through him.
The image of Major Vorov, with his large pregnant belly, cigar in his mouth, and vodka in his hand, from last night, resurfaced in my mind.
Here, greed is more deadly than enemy bullets.
Lu Ye withdrew his gaze and reached behind him to touch the inside pocket of his training uniform.
There lay the spoils he had looted from the bodies of enemy snipers and scouts the day before: two mechanical watches, a slightly deformed gold ring, and several stacks of blood-stained US dollars and rubles.
My parents and daughter back home are waiting for the money, and I don't know if there will be a chance to get rid of these things.