The Ultimate War Of The Apocalypse
Chapter 332 - 325: Wearing a Hat

Chapter 332: Chapter 325: Wearing a Hat

Gao Yuan was followed by two people; to his left was Atiq’s son Garini, and to his right, Ashraf.

As Garini looked toward the equipment that had already been decided to be abandoned, his gaze burned with intensity. He reached out to touch a 155 mm howitzer, caressing the barrel several times with deep affection before turning his head to Gao Yuan and asking, "Is this for us?"

"Yes, so all of these are yours!"

Gao Yuan pointed at the array of planes in front of them, shouting, "Everything, all of it, is now yours."

Taking a deep breath, Garini’s face showed reluctance, then with resignation he said, "Blow them up, blow up all the planes..."

After speaking, Garini turned to Gao Yuan, "Leave us at least four trucks, filled with gasoline, and one tanker truck. That’s my request. Without trucks, we can’t quickly transport these weapons."

Gao Yuan stretched out his hand toward a hangar and said, "There are about twenty trucks here, and see those big oil drums? All full of gasoline, all yours."

Garini couldn’t stop smiling.

Gao Yuan whispered, "They’re all yours, all yours."

"Our tribe..."

Garini, still young and unable to remain as calm as his father, stopped mid-sentence and said emphatically, "Thank you, my brother."

"Don’t mention it, my dear nephew."

Gao Yuan and Garini hugged each other, then Garini whispered, "I have to go back now; father is waiting for me."

Gao Yuan smiled and said, "Alright, I’ll walk you out."

"No need, Uncle. I’ll just walk," Garini responded.

Turning to Ashraf, Garini embraced his uncle and then asked softly, "Do you need me to bring anything for you tomorrow?"

Ashraf shook his head with a smile, "No need, I don’t have much to take. Just grab me some bread from up there and the bullets I left at home."

"Uncle, you are a true warrior. You defeated the Soviet Union, beat America, and now you’re about to fight aliens. We will always be proud of you; you are the pride of our tribe."

After speaking, Garini hugged his uncle, then whispered, "I’m going back."

Ashraf smiled and said, "I’m not going back, I will never return..."

"No, Uncle..."

Ashraf shook his head, still smiling, "I’m sure I won’t come back. We all have to understand that."

Ashraf took off the headscarf from his head and handed it casually to Garini, "Take my headscarf back, bury it in Panjshir Valley at the feet of my father."

Garini solemnly accepted Ashraf’s headscarf, and then he took off his own black headscarf and offered it to Ashraf, speaking softly, "Uncle, wear mine."

Ashraf shook his head, then with a smile he said, "I won’t wear a headscarf anymore. I’m going to wear a military cap, like... like I used to."

Garini took back his headscarf, and whispered to Ashraf, "Uncle, I’m leaving."

Garini was somewhat sad; he was in pain and looked as though he was about to cry.

Ashraf was still smiling, "It’s just war, and I am a warrior. Warriors shouldn’t die of old age at home; they should die on the battlefield. Garini, go on, turn around and leave, like your forefathers did, not crying like your wife. You are a man, a warrior. Warriors don’t cry, smile, smile."

Garini forced a smile, then nodded his head and turned to leave.

Ashraf was still smiling—he was always smiling, just as he had said, always to smile, no matter what.

Garini left. Ashraf fumbled around his waist for a bit and pulled out a wrinkled hat. Then he stretched it out with his hands, patted it a few times, and put it tidily on his head.

There was no sens of ceremony, just pulling out a hat, patting it, shaking it, and wearing it on one’s head. However, Gao Yuan knew that Ashraf who had swapped his turban for a military cap was different.

The military green cap was washed to a pale hue, limp and shapeless without a badge, just a plain military green hat.

"With a turban, I’m a tribal elder; with a cap, I’m a soldier of the Northern Alliance. The Northern Alliance may have dissolved, but Masood’s spirit lives forever. I am willing to sacrifice myself to defeat the Aliens, sir," Ashraf said, saluting Gao Yuan, then he added with a smile, "That’s why I’ve come."

This must be the legendary act of doffing the robe to fulfill filial duty, and donning the robe to give loyal service—some spirits are indeed universal among humanity.

Gao Yuan returned the salute and then stammered, "Uh, okay, very good, you can stay... next to us, then. Do you have any requests?"

When it came to requests, Gao Yuan finally perked up.

"Here we have all sorts of sniper rifles. Would you like to switch your rifle? A scope? Or something else? Whatever you want, we have it," he said eagerly.

Ashraf thought for a moment, stretching his foot out and inspecting his footwear, then murmured after finding his shoes were really too worn-out, "Give me a pair of shoes. I don’t want army boots; they are too heavy."

"A gun? Don’t you want to switch your gun?"

Ashraf shook his head, pushing forward the rifle he was leaning on, and said, "I can only use this one; I don’t know how to use those scopes. I’ve tried the Dragunov, but I find scopes get in the way."

The Dragunov is the SVD; it’s an okay gun, definitly better than the Mosin-Nagant, but Ashraf doesn’t use it.

Speaking of guns, Li Yang clearly had more say than Gao Yuan. He asked quietly, "If you don’t use a scope, then what’s your shooting distance?"

Ashraf thought for a second and then replied with a smile, "As far as the eye can see."

His range was wherever his sight could reach.

Was that even possible?

Li Yang frowned and said, "But the eyes can see targets several kilometers away—that’s not very specific."

Ashraf kept smiling, "I can get closer to him."

Beyond four hundred meters, a human-sized target would not fill the gap in the iron sight’s notch.

So Ashraf’s range couldn’t possibly exceed five hundred meters, it just couldn’t. That was Li Yang’s subconscious judgment, but thinking of Simo Hahya from World War II, who had supposedly killed targets at seven hundred meters with a Mosin-Nagant—although it was a legend—it made Li Yang hesitate to say definitively that Ashraf couldn’t achieve it.

After hesitating for a moment, Li Yang asked Ashraf, "What’s the distance you’re most accustomed to in combat? What’s the most common distance at which you shoot your enemies?"

Ashraf replied with a smile, "Two hundred meters, not exceeding three hundred meters."

Li Yang frowned a bit, because the distance Ashraf was used to fighting at, compared to the range he mentioned where he could shoot upon sight, was quite a big difference.

At that moment, Ashraf added nonchalantly, "There are longer shots, but not many. The last time I killed a sentry at this base, I had shot from the end of the valley where we first met, because he shot at me first; otherwise, I wouldn’t have fired from such a long distance."

Li Yang estimated in his mind—the end of the valley was roughly six hundred meters, nearly seven hundred meters. To kill a target at such a long distance with a single shot...

Indeed, one should never underestimate the heroes of the world.