The far side of Reef 0014

Listening to the unending gunfire and explosions coming from the reef above, it was clear that Ding Ye's team had run into trouble with their assault. Hou Rui, who had been tense all along, finally felt a bit relieved. He had wasted much time circling the reef to familiarize himself with the terrain, but now he had at last found a relatively easy landing spot.

"Ding Ye's been held up by the enemy. This is our best chance—let's move," Hou Rui said, slinging his Remington 870 over his back and being the first to disembark, swimming vigorously toward the reef. Jelly, Baldy, Lax, and the others followed, quietly heading to the pitch-black, unseen side of the reef.

The reason Ding Ye hadn't chosen the back of the reef as the attack route was simple: the coastal area was lined with massive rocks, standing almost vertically, with a height difference of up to fifty-six meters. If they attacked from here, the pirates could hold off dozens of attackers with just a single machine gun and a handful of guards.

But the situation had changed; Ding Ye's frontal assault had drawn the pirates' attention, giving Hou Rui and his group a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

After swimming across 5,600 meters of open water, Hou Rui was the first to reach the rocks. He searched for a long time before managing to find a foothold barely the size of half a palm. The others quickly gathered, and Jelly, the biggest among them, stood on the spot, allowing Hou Rui to climb onto his shoulders and help the strong man above. The three stacked themselves together, finally managing to scale the rock.

The battle raged on at the front of the reef, explosions flickering across their faces.

"Why aren't they back yet?" Jelly seemed anxious, his grip tightening on his metal AK-74 as if he might crush it.

"Quiet—look, they're back," Hou Rui whispered. The strong man who had scouted ahead had silently returned.

"Three hundred meters ahead, there's a small rocky outcrop. The pirates have set up a machine gun nest and a searchlight there, with only four guards around it. The rest must be up front, holding off Ding's attack," the strong man summarized.

"This is our chance. Let them fight—let's rescue the hostages and get the hell out," Jelly said, eager to charge forward but was held back by Hou Rui.

"Don't rush. Even with fewer guards, we can't be careless. Jack, you focus on the machine gunner. Jelly and Baldy, you're a team; the rest are with me. Keep a twenty-five-meter gap and advance simultaneously from both flanks," Hou Rui ordered. He, Lax, and the bespectacled man moved left, while Jelly and Baldy crawled right.

Gunfire was still fierce on the other side, causing the pirates guarding the machine gun nest to glance nervously behind them. This worked in Hou Rui's favor, letting their group slip within 560 meters of the machine gun under cover of darkness.

Just as they prepared to move closer and take out the four guards by hand, some noise unexpectedly came from Jelly and Baldy's side—a clattering, like an empty can rolling. It was as if they'd stirred a hornet's nest; the searchlight snapped on, and the tense pirates opened fire without hesitation. Bullets struck the rocks around Hou Rui and his comrades, sparks flying everywhere.

Hou Rui was about to grit his teeth and return fire when someone acted faster. Two meters behind him, a petite figure knelt on the rocks, wielding two 1911 pistols scavenged from Vietnamese police. As smoke curled from the muzzles, all four pirates fell in quick succession.

It was a remarkable feat; Hou Rui hadn't expected that the girl, whose eyesight worsened at night, could shoot so expertly at close range. In the two and a half months on Zero Island, Lax had never once revealed this skill.

But there was no time for wonder. As soon as the guards fell, the pirates at the machine gun nest opened fire, and the searchlight above swept back and forth, hunting for targets.

The worst part was that on these bare rocks, Hou Rui's group had nowhere to hide. The pirates' machine gun was the first to tear Baldy apart, leaving him nothing more than a heap of mangled flesh—he never even had a chance to scream.

Seeing the machine gun's trajectory shift toward Jelly, Hou Rui shouted desperately, "Take out the light! Take out the gun!"

"Bang! Crash!" Before the words faded, the strong man shot out the searchlight, buying them a brief moment to breathe.

"Bang! Clang!" But his second shot was blocked by the machine gun's armored shield. Sensing danger, the gunner adjusted his aim, unleashing a wild barrage at the strong man's muzzle flash, chipping stone and sending shrapnel flying. The strong man's fate was uncertain.

"What do we do, Hou?" Those on the rocks were trapped. Jelly dragged Baldy's remains in front of him for cover, firing at the armored shield while shouting at Hou Rui.

To stay and fight would mean getting picked off one by one. With no other choice, Hou Rui made his decision. He yelled, "Cover me—I'm going in," and sprang up, darting toward the machine gun nest from the flank.

Jelly, Lax, and the others provided covering fire, their bullets sparking against the pirates' position. Seizing the moment, Hou Rui rushed 340 meters, almost reaching the side of the machine gun nest—only to be blocked by a barbed-wire fence.

Because of the darkness, the strong man's earlier reconnaissance had missed the low fence, which now securely protected both flanks of the pirates' stronghold, leaving Hou Rui unable to advance. The machine gun was close—so close—but unreachable.

From this distance, Hou Rui could see the entire nest: sandbags formed a semicircular fortification, behind which sat a Soviet-made .50 caliber field machine gun. A massive iron plate served as an armored shield, deflecting all incoming bullets. Through the observation slit, Hou Rui could barely make out the figures behind it, but he couldn't get a clear shot.

The machine gun spat half-meter-long flames, its relentless fire filling Hou Rui with anxiety. Yet his mind was blank, unable to think of a solution. He kept reminding himself to stay calm—there must be a weakness, and he had to find it.

Suddenly, the machine gun shifted slightly, changing its angle. That small movement illuminated Hou Rui's mind.

"Jelly, draw the gun's fire to the left—keep it going, keep it going!" Hou Rui shouted, nearly losing his voice.

"God, are you crazy, Hou? That's a machine gun—a .50 caliber!" Jelly pressed his head to the rocks, shouting even louder.

"If you don't, we're all dead!" Hou Rui's anger flared. If he kept shouting like this, the pirates would target him before the plan could even begin.

"You're insane, Hou! You owe me a million dollars," Jelly roared, tossing aside Baldy's corpse. He fired his AK-74 toward the machine gun nest and, like a leopard, sprinted left, each stride spanning over a meter.

The pirate gunner took the bait, chasing Jelly's movement with his fire. Hou Rui watched as the massive armored shield slowly shifted, gradually exposing the gunner's body.

Jelly's wild dash ended at the edge—any further, and he'd be forced to leap into the sea. The deadly .50 caliber bullets whistled after him, so Jelly accelerated, leaping off the fifty-six-meter cliff with a drawn-out scream, crashing into the ocean below.

But even then, the pirate gunner didn't stop firing, pouring bullets into the water where Jelly had landed, intent on finishing him off.

As the armored shield turned, Hou Rui finally saw an arm—but he held his fire. He had only one chance; if he failed to kill with a single shot, the deadly 12.7mm bullets would be aimed at him next.

Next, a shoulder appeared in his sights, clad in a pale yellow t-shirt with a Doraemon print. At last, a twisted, sweat-soaked face emerged. But Hou Rui, who had waited so long, lowered his gun, for he saw a boy of only fourteen or fifteen. Shaking from the recoil of the gun, the child was the pirates' machine gunner.

The gun kept firing; after Jelly's leap, the bespectacled man took on the suicidal task of drawing the machine gun's fire.

"Nineteen, shoot! Hurry, shoot!" But the bespectacled man wasn't as fast as Jelly. He barely finished his shout before the gun's bullets caught him. Though he jumped off the rock, his body was shredded midair by the machine gun.

Time was running out. With the bespectacled man's death, Lax had to take over the task of distracting the gunner. Hou Rui watched as Lax, her petite frame resolute, stood and fired futile shots at the machine gun before sprinting toward the sea.

"Hou, I don't want to die!" Lax's cry nearly pierced Hou Rui's eardrums. Now, torn between the lives of his comrades and the moral line of shooting a child, Hou Rui was driven into a corner.

Better them than us.

With the situation desperate, Hou Rui had no choice but to prioritize survival. At that moment, the machine gun's belt ran dry. The boy turned, lifted another box of ammo, and expertly began reloading.

"Raise your hands! Don't make me shoot!" Hou Rui shouted in English, aiming his Remington 870.

The pirate boy was stunned, looking up at Hou Rui in terror. But then his eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight, and he reached for the gun's firing handle.

A gunshot rang out. Forced, Hou Rui pulled the trigger—the Remington's shell struck the boy's belly, the steel shot tearing through him, intestines spilling out, his arm severed at the elbow, his small body flung back twenty-three meters before falling lifeless.

Numb, Hou Rui slowly stood, climbed over the wire, and entered the machine gun nest, staring at the boy's face close up, his mind a chaotic mess, so absorbed he didn't notice Lax and the strong man arriving.

"Let's go, Nineteen. We still have a mission to complete," the strong man urged. Lax was more direct—she grabbed a stray jacket and covered the boy's face.