Time seemed to have put on running shoes. From the day the news of Dr. Erskine’s death reached Arthur, it began its frantic pace.
Arthur felt as if someone had fast-forwarded his life – probably at eight times the normal speed.
In what seemed like no time at all, six months had passed.
The sky was gloomy with rain falling in a steady, unrelenting drizzle. The ground was muddy and wet.
Arthur lay prone on the sodden ground with a sniper rifle in his hands. He was as still as a stone sculpture, every muscle tensed in concentration as he watched his surroundings through the scope.
If someone had told Arthur when he first arrived in this world that he would be active on the battlefield for more than six months, repeatedly facing life and death situations… Arthur would have slapped them in the face for spouting such nonsense.
As someone who initially wanted to stay hidden and wait out the war, Arthur never considered himself cut out for combat. He certainly didn’t think he could survive to the end on the battlefield.
But reality proved him wrong.
Despite several brushes with death and countless moments when he thought he couldn’t go on, he persevered.
He not only survived, he thrived.
His military rank rose, his familiarity with the battlefield grew, and he became more adept at the art of killing.
His only disappointment was with his Disassembler.
When Arthur returned to the battlefield, he had hoped that the chaotic environment would cause his Disassembler’s level to skyrocket like an unleashed mad dog. But reality had other plans.
Two weeks after his return, the Disassembler began an upgrade that continues to this day. For over five months, the Disassembler had remained in a state of perpetual upgrade.
Initially, the Disassembler was Arthur’s greatest asset on the battlefield, but its prolonged inoperability forced him to rely on and hone his own skills.
Using the shooting and combat techniques he learned from the Disassembler and the knowledge he gained from the Strategic Scientific Reserve, Arthur learned to adapt and use all of his skills effectively.
It’s true what they say – people are often at their best when their backs are against the wall.
The roar of engines in the distance didn’t make Arthur flinch. He stayed still, waiting.
A military truck with the Hydra emblem appeared in his sniper scope.
Arthur took a deep breath to steady himself. His hands, firm and controlled, held the rifle. With a sudden squeeze, he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The shot echoed sharply as the driver’s head exploded in a spray of blood. The truck veered off the road and crashed to the side.
Before the vehicle could stop, someone jumped out of the passenger side.
Bang!
Before the man could hit the ground, a red mist erupted from his head.
The truck crashed into a tree and came to an abrupt stop. Arthur quickly shed his disguise and rolled into the underbrush. Using the surrounding trees for cover, he darted toward the truck.
Several soldiers jumped out of the back of the truck – some checking the driver and passenger, while others scanned the area for threats.
“Five of them?” Arthur noted from behind a tree, his eyebrows knitted together. “Looks like I hit the jackpot… Not”
Arthur felt a pang of frustration. He had waited here for a day and a night only to encounter a truck with seven soldiers. According to his observations, similar trucks usually had no more than five soldiers on board.
Without wasting any time, Arthur stowed his sniper rifle in the disassembly room and switched to an M1 Garand rifle.
He revealed himself and fired.
Blood spurted from one soldier’s chest, and the remaining men quickly regrouped, firing wildly at Arthur’s last known position. But by the time the bullets reached him, Arthur was gone.
The shooting continued for about ten seconds before ceasing. The remaining four soldiers stood back to back, moving cautiously toward the driver’s seat of the truck. Suddenly, one soldier felt a sharp tug on his ankle and lost his balance. In the next instant, a cold, sharp bayonet pierced his neck.
The remaining three soldiers were startled and they aimed their rifles at the ground. But before they could pull the triggers, one of them dropped dead with a bullet hole in his head.
The last two soldiers fired their rifles, but instead of hitting Arthur, their bullets pierced the body of their fallen comrade, which Arthur had thrown at them as a shield.
The next moment, Arthur burst out from behind the falling body. With a powerful kick, he sent one soldier flying three meters away, while his bayonet quickly plunged into the heart of the other.
Pressing the dying man’s face to the ground, Arthur pulled out the bayonet and approached the soldier he had kicked, who was now struggling on the muddy ground.
He raised his pistol and fired.
Bang!
…
…
The truck was back on the road, with Arthur now dressed in a Hydra uniform. He wiped the rainwater from his face with a dirty rag while chewing on a can of beef he found in the truck.
The taste of the less-than appetizing beef spread through his mouth, but Arthur didn’t waste a drop of the juice. He hadn’t eaten in over a day and a night, an unimaginable ordeal for a food lover like him.
…
…
Arthur was deep behind enemy lines. Not far away, the sound of artillery echoed as the Allies and Hydra clashed fiercely.
Arthur was here for one reason – a mission he had come to both hate and excel at: a decapitation strike.
Since arriving in this world, Arthur had been tasked with such missions time and again. In the past six months alone, he had completed seven decapitation missions, each one flawlessly.
This consistent success earned him the annoying nickname “King of Decapitation.
Colonel Phillips initially resented the nickname, as did Arthur himself. But after seeing Arthur repeatedly complete these missions to perfection, the Colonel had to admit Arthur’s extraordinary abilities and began to rely on him.
Despite Arthur’s reluctance to accept this role, the unwavering faith of those around him made his objections irrelevant.
Now, once again, Arthur was sent on a crucial mission. His destination was a Hydra military factory nestled between two mountains near Klausberg.
His target: the head of Hydra, Johann Schmidt.
**(End of Chapter)**
You can read ahead up to 20 chapters on my patreon and I’ve also activated (date to date) subscription model on my patreon https://www.patreon.com/GGS6395
Support me on Patreon for extra chapters