Lin Jie observed the person in front of him.
About thirty years old, around 1.75 meters tall, dark-skinned, eyes slightly squinted, with an ordinary appearance.
From him, Lin Jie did not sense that heart-palpitating, iron-blooded aura of slaughter described in many novels.
One could say this person had no aura of a great master.
If he changed out of his combat uniform, dropped the long gun in his hand, with those thick calluses on his hands and his dark face, Lin Jie would believe without a doubt that he was a construction worker coming to the city for work.
The man with the frown lines indicated that this person was indeed a sharpshooter with a hundred percent accuracy.
Such a matter involving lives, Lin Jie naturally would not think anyone would dare to falsify.
Lin Jie spoke, "We are less than sixty meters from the target here; I need small-caliber live ammunition with strong penetration, preferably a rifle similar to the old 38 Rifle type."
