My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 467

The fire-type awakened ability users among Sparrow’s team began summoning fireballs in their hands, carefully calculating the trajectory based on the distance, wind direction, and the position of their enemies.

With precise aim, they launched the fireballs into the air, allowing them to arc and curve in a controlled pattern—either a sharp or wide curve, depending on the situation.

As the fireballs reached their peak, they would fall directly onto their targets, incinerating them with ruthless efficiency.

Victor’s team, caught off guard and at a severe disadvantage, could only curse and scream in panic as they begged for their lives, realizing too late that escape was impossible.

How could Victor’s team possibly compete with Sparrow’s?

Some of his men were not only battle-hardened soldiers, but some were mathematicians, engineers, and experts who had a natural affinity for numbers.

The mathematics professor, in particular, was the first to devise this strategy.

Using his sharp analytical mind, he calculated the precise angles and trajectories, testing his theory in real-time.

Those hiding behind walls with narrow openings were quickly falling into his trap, unable to escape the deadly accuracy of his fireballs.

One by one, they were picked off, dying slowly as they realized too late they were caught in a calculated, inescapable web.

Sparrow’s eyes landed on the middle-aged professor, who appeared unremarkable at first glance. But the calculating smirk playing on his lips betrayed his true nature as he conjured yet another fireball, his gaze sharp with focus as he lined up his next target.

Sparrow couldn’t help but whistle and chuckle under his breath, impressed by the sheer talent in his team.

While their awakened abilities may not have been the most overpowering, it was the wielder who determined a weapon’s lethality. After all, weapons are only tools; it’s the one who wields them that truly makes them deadly.

And the perfect example of that stood right in front of him—the mathematics professor, whose sharp mind turned every fireball into a calculated strike of destruction.

Sparrow wasn’t about to be outdone by his team, so he continued to unleash his boomerang-like windblades, each strike more precise than the last.

Soon, curses echoed from the distance, followed by desperate cries.

"FUCK! FUCK, FUCK!!!"

"I don’t want to die! Please, stop!"

But how could Sparrow and his team stop when they weren’t the ones who initiated this fight?

Still, even though they had been dominating the skirmish from the start and none of them had been injured, Sparrow’s men couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for the opposing side.

Those with weaker resolve and a stronger sense of morality hesitated, their hands faltering as they stopped attacking.

Their hesitation left only Sparrow and the professor to continue the assault, while the others stood idly by, unsure of how to proceed.

Rakan, still inside the truck with Evelyn and the others, could only hear the desperate shouts coming from Victor’s men.

At first, he thought it was Sparrow’s team that was shouting and crying, but as he listened more closely, he realized that the voices came from Victor’s men and there was a distinct lack of gunfire.

Instead, all he heard were pleas, curses, and wails of agony—until it all suddenly fell silent.

Rakan and his subordinates were left baffled, unable to imagine what was happening outside.

The only thing they could assume was that Sparrow and his team were engaged in a brutal melee battle with Victor’s forces.

Sparrow’s side hadn’t even used up the first magazine in their guns.