Reborn As a Pirate

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The city gate is open!

Amidst the creaking sound of the wooden door opening, someone smashed the winch of the hanging door with a hammer.

The hanging door half-hanging in the air crashed to the ground like a meteorite crashing to the ground, smoke and dust all over the sky surged into the air, and a sudden sandstorm swept across the battlefield.

The fighters on both sides were forced to close their eyes. In this violent and sudden sandstorm, only a few people could enjoy the privilege of seeing.

Roy Hassady is undoubtedly one of the privileged.

Under the protection of the soldiers, he originally hid behind the few bunkers closest to the city wall. Even in the chaotic battlefield, he heard Karen's battle orders verbatim.

When the hanging door fell, he closed his eyes abruptly, avoiding the sweeping dust, and was the first to open his eyes after the dust passed. Fortunately, he saw the magnificence that made people tremble with excitement!

Behind the sand and dust, the densely packed Drake Musketeers poked their heads out in unison, and the sailors raised their well-maintained maritime commuters in a series of passwords, and immediately there was a round of guns bursting like beans!

The chaotic battlefield was suddenly quiet, those Sudanese guards poking in the middle of the battlefield like wheat seedlings all over the mountains, those Sudanese guards who had almost reached the gate of the city, those Sudanese guards who had captured the first bunker...

Why...it seems...maybe...it seems...not many fell down?

The corners of Roy's eyes twitched suddenly, the emotion disappeared, the trembling disappeared, he gritted his teeth and spat out a mouthful of dust, and cursed viciously: "Damn Drake, damn Brit!"

He really blamed Lorraine this time. At least from his heart, Lorraine hoped that his sailors could do their best for their allies on the basis of ensuring their own safety.

However, their cooperation is in the end a feud between invaders and traitors, and there are various disadvantages such as race, belief, culture, history and so on.

Just as Roy's lieutenant distrusted Lorraine, the Drakes agreed that dead allies are the best allies.

Even Mr. Karen Scott, a capitalist who treats money like dung, sacrificed capital weapons before the war. He told the sailors of the Musketeers that death in the line of duty in this battle is considered an accidental death, and the chamber of commerce provides compensation, but only the minimum standard.

Under multiple cognitions, the performance of the sailors can be imagined.

They heard the call to battle,

Then stick out the long or short barrel according to the situation, put it at a large or small angle according to the situation, and pull the trigger towards the messy battlefield like the situation, without even looking at the result, just like a frightened gopher. Shushu retracted his head again, reloaded happily, and complained about the greasy and excess prison food of the Omanis.

The artillery positions in the rear fared no better than their musket counterparts.

Yacharin held the straw pole brought out of the prison in his mouth, crossed his legs, and held up the binoculars.

"The targets are scattered from 105 to 350, the formation is concentrated, and our task is to block the rear."

"But gentlemen, don't forget that behind a certain rock between 400 and 450, our delicate and fleshy vice president is having a tryst with his oriental girlfriend on a rough rock."

"They don't necessarily know how to avoid gunfire, because in the face of intoxicating love, IQ is often not enough."

"If you let the enemy go, you will be scolded, and you will be punished to wash the deck and tie a knot. This is a very heavy punishment. But if you hurt the vice president or his beautiful little girlfriend, the president will kill you alive. Feed dolphins, bones catch sharks, never get a finger from your family."

"How do you choose, gentlemen? Conscientious or conscientious? I leave it to you to choose."

"I ordered, with the artillery as the unit, lock the enemy's rear, shoot freely, open fire!"

The artillery fired sparsely under the passionate battle order, and the landing points were concentrated in the range of 250 to 300, slow and scattered.

The gunners worked dejectedly, not asking for meritorious service, or even no faults. They only asked that the shells would not float, and that they would not hit things that were easy to splash, such as stones and trees. The final effect can be imagined.

Roy Hasadi's eyes were bloodshot, but he couldn't say any harsh words.

The reinforcements came, his enemies were in chaos, and his subordinates stood firm, relying on the bunker for the first time and began to organize an effective counterattack.

What's more, unlike the British guys who couldn't be relied on, the elite of the fort who he could entrust his life to finally lined up in a neat queue and walked out of the fort gate beating short war drums.

"30 meters! One or two rows interspersed, raise the gun, let go!"

That was the sonorous and powerful command of his regimental deputy.

"The wings spread out after shooting, and the rear ranks come forward! Forward, forward, defend your general, defend Hassadi!"

"Go, shoot, let go!"

Those were the two battalion commanders he had left in the fort.

The situation on the battlefield was reversed in the blink of an eye, and the Sudanese Guards were trapped in the storm of artillery and gunfire. No matter how much advantage they had before, the casualties are now so severe.

There were 1,000 of them in number, and Milani's original lineup outside the city was 600. Under the clear suppression of the first move, the difference in firepower reached 994 to 236 at the maximum.

They have formed a dense and orderly assault formation, striding forward and striving upwards.

But at this moment, the hanging door fell, and the volleys of guns and artillery were overwhelming, tearing their formation into pieces.

Before De Chiaz had time to regroup, the Milani garrison, nine hundred strong, rushed out of the citadel and, as they had done before, poured a torrent of lead fire on them with impunity.

The soldiers of the guard fell down in groups, the dead twitched their bodies, and the wounded wailed loudly.

The defeat appeared in an instant!

The close guards dragged the stupid sultan and pushed the marshal with a broken leg back to the sparse bushes. Only halfway back, De Chiaz suddenly saw a weak shell, with an indescribably lazy temperament, directly hitting the middle of the team.

"Allah……"

boom!

...

The time rewinds to ten minutes ago.

Pierce put down the writing board and pen, and reached out to Sanmei Xiao: "Kentucky, Sanmei, it's time to hand over the weight..."

Sanmei Xiao immediately handed Pierce a Kentucky rifle that had already been loaded.

The familiar touch came from the palm of his hand. Pierce pinched the gun and picked it up. The wooden butt covered with copper was pressed to his shoulder.

Pierce has always disliked Kentucky, even as he grew up, because of his height.

The body of Kentucky’s gun is 1.7 meters, which is almost as high as him standing up. Pierce can’t always use it smoothly in the small shooting bay.

To what extent has this inconsistency reached?

In terms of one person and one gun, with Kentucky in hand, Pierce Jr. used to need 5 minutes to complete a shot, but now Mr. Artis has a proficient skill, and it takes 3 minutes.

In the same situation, he can hit the 120-meter target 5 times with the Maritime Commuter, and 3 times with the 150-meter target with Charleville.

But even so, Kentucky is still irreplaceable. Kentucky is the only choice to fight against the top hunter under Blackbeard...

Pierce took a deep breath, then held it, closing his left eye.

The field of view narrowed.

Kentucky's crosshairs are moving in a narrow field of vision, and the invisible wind is drawn out by the accompanying dance of grass blades, dust, and leaves. In the distance are colored dots representing human figures, and the dark green closest to white is Pierce's target. Bashar bin Hassadi.

"Kentucky is unique."

Pierce said softly, raising the barrel slightly so that the front sight was no longer aimed at the target, but slightly upward, and then upward.

A mysterious inspiration called "right" suddenly touched his neurons, Pierce stopped his hands, exhaled, and let his muscles memorize everything at this moment.

"Can Blackbeard's hunters do this kind of shooting?"

He lightly squeezed the trigger, boom!

The gun flame sprayed out of the gun barrel, and the heavy recoil hit his shoulder like a heavy hammer. Pierce dropped his shoulders, sideways, dropped the gun while releasing the force, and took the second gun from Sanmei Xiao with a push of his arm gun.

He raised the gun again, but this time there was no longer a long aiming process, and he used his body's memory to restore the posture to three seconds ago, as if time was stuck at this moment, repeating itself repeatedly in a small interval.

Boom!

Two and a half seconds.

Boom!

two seconds.

Boom!

1.5 seconds.

Boom!

The first gun fell to the ground, and Pierce stood up holding the fifth gun, blowing away the curly hair hanging on his forehead with a cry.

"Third Sister, transfer, Yazha's shells will bite people, remember to pay attention to the top of your head when you run."

The two little guys started to run, Pierce who was 1.7 meters behind, and Sanmei Xiao who was 1.55 meters in front.

The length of Kentucky made it difficult for them to jump between the rocks. In order not to let the gun catch their feet, they could only raise their hands high as if they were surrendering, and raised the crossed butt of the gun above their heads.

Gunshots began to be heard from the direction of the castle. It was chaotic at first, gradually orderly, and reached the densest after a loud noise. After that, the gunfire sounded, and the gunfire became chaotic again.

"The confrontation in the castle seems to be much more intense than expected..."

Panting, Pierce finally ran to the set position after ten minutes.

This place is about 600 meters away from the battlefield, in a low half-mountain, it is a sparse forest composed of seven big trees.

The sparse forest is facing a path, the straight-line distance between the two is 220 meters, and the drop is 40 meters, including a mountain stream, a cliff and half a valley in the middle.

The path is the only way to enter and exit the Milani Castle, and the Sultan Guard must pass if they retreat. This means that Pierce, who is setting up an ambush in the sparse forest, can easily bring them into range, and since they have discovered Pierce, it will take at least 35 minutes to cross the straight-line distance of 220 meters.

When he arrived at the location, Pierce threw his long gun to Sanmei Xiao. Sanmei Xiao took the time to reload the ammunition, while he turned up on the tree and found a good observation point on the branch of the tree.

His second task is to assassinate the king.

In Lorraine's plan, Dilaman needs to die here.

On the one hand, the successive sudden deaths of Sudan have contributed to the political division in Muscat. Europeans like political division, the more divided, the less expensive it is to colonize a country, and the more divided, the easier it is for white people to dress themselves up as "friends".

On the other hand, the vacillating Hasadi family has always been a thorn in Lorraine's heart. However, even God cannot make more than 1,500 Omanis in the whole castle become loyal traitors. Lorraine can only choose the most rude way, and let the new lord of the Sultanate die on the way to attack Milani Castle. Completely cut off the retreat of these people to return to the country.

"It's just a mess everywhere. Where is the young sultan?"

Squatting on the tree, Pierce slowly shook the looking glass, shaking and shaking, he suddenly froze on the spot.

Sanmei Xiao had just twisted a half-size lead bullet into the barrel with great difficulty. She put away the cleaning rod and looked up strangely: "Master, what did you see?"

"Just now, Goddamn Yazha snatched my mission target away." Pierce sniffed, "Mr. Sudan flew so high that he was strung up on a branch of a tree. It's too miserable... ..."

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