Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 132: The Thrilling Chase

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The man froze, his body tense as he glanced around, clearly trying to assess his options. The rest of Marcus's team had already taken positions, weapons aimed, ready to engage at any sign of resistance.

"Hands up!" one of the soldiers shouted, his rifle trained on the target. "Do it now!"

For a moment, the man hesitated, his gaze darting toward the thicker part of the forest, as if weighing the risk of making a run for it. Marcus could see the panic in his eyes, the desperation of a man who knew he was cornered.

"Don't even think about it," Marcus growled, stepping forward slowly. "You take one step, and it's over. Hands up. Slowly."

The man's chest heaved as he raised his hands, palms open in surrender, but his eyes still flicked nervously around. Marcus knew this type-the kind who was waiting for an opening, hoping for a mistake.

"Get down on your knees!" another soldier ordered, stepping closer with his weapon aimed directly at the man's chest.

As the man dropped to his knees, his eyes darted one last time toward the dense underbrush. Marcus caught the movement, his gut twisting with the realization that the man wasn't going to comply.

Without warning, the man leaped to his feet and made a desperate dash toward the forest.

"Stop!" Marcus bellowed, but the man ignored him, his feet kicking up dirt as he sprinted away.

Marcus didn't hesitate. His rifle snapped up, the crosshairs locking on the fleeing target's leg. One sharp breath, and he squeezed the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot echoed through the forest, and the man let out a scream as he tumbled to the ground, clutching his leg. The shot had been clean, hitting just above the knee, rendering him immobile.

"Arghhhhh! You fuckers!" The man screamed, his hands instinctively clutching at his leg as blood seeped through his fingers. He writhed in pain on the ground, cursing under his breath as Marcus and his team approached.

"You had your chance," Marcus said coldly, stepping closer with his rifle still aimed at the man. "Now, you're going to answer a few questions. Or we leave you here for the animals."

The man gritted his teeth, glaring up at Marcus. "Screw you... I'm not telling you anything." "Okay...since you made your decision,"

Marcus fired a single shot into the dirt right next to the man's head, the crack of the bullet sending a sharp warning. The man's eyes widened in panic, and he flinched instinctively, his breath catching in his throat.

"Let me make this clear," Marcus said, his voice low and menacing as he leaned in closer. "You either talk, or I make sure you bleed out right here, nice and slow. It's your choice."

The man clenched his jaw, still glaring at Marcus, but the defiance in his eyes wavered. He was trapped, bleeding, and the fear of dying alone in the forest was beginning to take hold. He spat on the ground, his voice hoarse as he finally spoke.

"Fine... I'll talk," he growled, still clutching his wounded leg. "But I swear, Garrick's going to kill you for this."

"Let us worry about Garrick," Marcus replied, keeping his rifle trained on the man. "Where's he headed? How many of you are left?"

The man grimaced, the pain from his leg pulsing through his body. "He's... heading south, to regroup with the rest of the Iron Claw. There's... a fallback location near the ridge, not far from here. He won't stop coming after you. You know that, right?"

"Bullshit, I know they are heading north as that is where your outpost is located," Marcus said sharply, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't in the mood for more lies.

The man's eyes flickered with panic, realizing his story had been exposed. He stammered for a moment, his breath shallow and his face pale from the blood loss. "I-I'm telling the truth! I swear, we were supposed to head south, it was part of—"

Marcus raised his hand, cutting the man off. "You're lying again. I gave you a chance. More than you deserved."

The man's lips trembled, his gaze darting between Marcus and the soldiers surrounding him. He tried to speak again, to plead for his life, but Marcus had already made his decision. His rifle remained steady, the barrel pointed directly at the man.

"You should've talked when you had the chance," Marcus said coldly. Without another word, The squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the forest, the sharp crack cutting through the tension like a knife. The man's body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide and lifeless.

"Move out. We've wasted enough time on him," Marcus ordered, his voice firm as he motioned for the soldiers to continue.

Marcus stepped over the lifeless body, his expression unflinching as his team pressed forward through the dense underbrush.

As they moved deeper into the forest, the Apache overhead provided updates, its thermal imaging picking up more heat signatures ahead. It wasn't long before Marcus's team came across another group of Garrick's men. Like before, the soldiers swiftly surrounded them, rifles raised, and the same tense standoff unfolded.

"Hands up!" a soldier barked, his voice cutting through the stillness. "You know the drill." This group, too, looked panicked and exhausted, their faces streaked with dirt and sweat. One man, slightly older than the others, stepped forward, his hands shaking as he raised them. "We don't want any trouble," he said, his voice quivering. "We're just following orders." "Get on your knees!" another soldier ordered, his weapon trained on the group. The men complied, dropping to the forest floor with their hands raised.

Marcus moved in, his eyes scanning each of them. "You know how this goes," he said coldly. "Where's Garrick? Where are the rest of your men?"

The older man gulped, clearly terrified. "I swear, we don't know," he said quickly. "Garrick told us to fall back south, regroup near the ridge. That's all we know."

Marcus's jaw clenched. "South again?"

"We are moving South."

*Bang...bang...bang.

Marcus fired three quick shots, each bullet hitting its mark. The bodies of the men slumped to

the ground before they even had time to process what had happened.

"South," Marcus muttered under his breath. "Same damn story every time."

He holstered his weapon and signaled for his team to move out. "We can't waste any more

time on this. If Garrick's men keep feeding us the same bullshit, we'll never catch up to him.

We know where they're really heading-north."

"Sir...the Apache just located Garrick," reported another soldier.

"Where?"

"About 800 meters North of us."