The most dazzling newcomer of the New Recruit Competition, Qin Fen from East Asia, has been wounded.

The news swept through the competition barracks like a whirlwind.

The sensation among the new recruits, just as the martial arts segment was concluding and the New Recruit Competition was about to enter its most anticipated phase, had been ambushed.

For such an event to occur at such a critical juncture, it was difficult for anyone to believe it was a mere coincidence.

As news of Qin Fen's injury spread, speculation began circulating privately among the concerned spectators following the event.

A general from the European Military Region, seeking revenge, had allegedly hired an assassin to stealthily attack Qin Fen.

A general from the American Military Region, fearing the dominance of East Asia in the New Recruit Competition, had supposedly employed a killer behind the scenes to ambush Qin Fen.

These speculative rumors flew across the breakfast tables, and spectators who had studied the schedule were particularly anxious: Would Qin Fen still be able to participate in the sniping competition?

Driven by curiosity, a large contingent of spectators hastily finished breakfast and rushed to the sniping competition venue. Some who hadn't originally planned to watch the sniping event suddenly found themselves keenly interested after hearing about the attack on Qin Fen.

For the first time, the spectator stands at the firing range were completely packed, surpassing even the crowds from the previous day's martial arts elimination rounds. All this was because Qin Fen had been attacked.

Would Qin Fen appear today?

Did he require rest in a hospital ward?

Who was the mastermind behind the attack on Qin Fen?

The competition slowly commenced amidst the audience's swirling conjectures, and the massive projection screen reappeared above them.

Qin Fen! It was Qin Fen!

The crowd immediately spotted his figure on the colossal screen: clad in the green uniform of the East Asian contingent, his right arm immobilized in a sling across his chest, his complexion lacking its usual vibrant flush and luster, showing a faint, dull sheen.

Tens of thousands of spectators simultaneously gasped, a collective "hiss" escaping them, suffused with a faint sense of regret.

The European and American new recruits standing near their East Asian counterparts appeared even more haggard than Qin Fen himself.

The moment news of Qin Fen's injury broke, the European and American newcomers began to worry that malicious speculation might fall upon them.

The commanding generals of the major military regions had also suffered a sleepless night due to this unforeseen incident.

An attack on a new recruit, if it had happened under normal circumstances or involved another person, might have been overlooked. But happening to the current frontrunner of the New Recruit Competition made it nearly impossible to avoid speculating in a malicious direction.

The generals from West Asia and Africa were equally troubled.

The previous night, Qin Fen had decisively eliminated all American mecha armor units using extremely violent methods. For any subsequent challenger, defeating Qin Fen seemed to require a miracle, or perhaps divine intervention from the legendary God or Buddha. Alternatively, the mecha pilot Qin Fen might suddenly suffer a physical ailment preventing him from deploying his highest-level combat maneuvers while piloting the armor.

Serious injury? Direct elimination? Both were viable paths!

Excluding the East Asian Military Region, the other four major regions all possessed distinct motives for the attack. As for who exactly delivered the blow, no one could determine immediately, forcing everyone to cooperate with Zhao Huzi's investigation to demonstrate their own innocence.

The sniping competition differed significantly from the previous pistol and semi-automatic rifle rounds.

For an elite sniper, hitting distant moving or stationary targets was not the true measure; it was the ability to actually execute enemy personnel.

Snipers, unlike ordinary soldiers, were tasked not just with eliminating common infantrymen brandishing rifles, but rather high-value targets like commanders or essential tactical personnel.

Individuals capable of holding command positions typically possessed acute intuition, enabling them to analyze complex and rapidly shifting battlefield dynamics. Moreover, commanders—whether in the Federation or insurgent forces—were afforded corresponding enhancements to their martial prowess.

With sharp intuition combined with elevated combat skills, commanders were far more attuned to the advent of danger or the surge of killing intent than regular soldiers. It was common for a commander to detect a sniper just as they were about to lock onto the target, allowing for immediate evasion.

In the sniping competition, the targets were no longer just moving paper silhouettes; they were living humans! A group of commanders from various echelons, having served in the military for years, who could dodge, take cover, and even retaliate.

In past sniping competitions, the result often saw the new recruit contingent virtually all "killed" before being eliminated. Among these commanders, naturally, a small fraction would be from special forces, some specializing explicitly in counter-sniping operations.

Qin Fen studied the competition rules closely. Points were awarded based on the distance and the rank of the target eliminated, with the highest total score determining the victor.

Note: To fully test a sniper’s capabilities, the uniforms worn by the commanders were sometimes counterfeit. Situations arose where low-ranking officers impersonated high-ranking ones, or high-ranking officers used the uniforms of lower ranks to conceal their true identity.

Qin Fen nodded slowly. The sniping competition was far more rigorous than he had anticipated, even incorporating countermeasures designed to confuse snipers.

"Now, all participating contestants, please select the weapons you require."

The cold, synthesized voice slowly echoed from the loudspeakers, and the new recruits from various continents immediately surged towards the hastily erected, simple armory.

The three commentators, affected by Qin Fen’s injury, volunteered to provide free commentary to foster the best atmosphere for the event.

"New Recruit Qin Fen doesn't seem very spirited today."

"Of course not. If someone attacked and broke your arm while you slept last night, your spirit would likely be worse than Qin Fen's."

"But can a low-spirited Qin Fen maintain that explosive, unparalleled momentum?"

"To be honest, I’m somewhat grateful to the mastermind behind the attack on Qin Fen."

"How so?" the other two commentators asked in unison, voicing the curiosity shared by most of the audience.

"Think about it: If New Recruit Qin Fen were at one hundred percent physical condition, who would have the highest probability of winning today's match?"

"Well... probably Qin Fen? Although we haven't seen his sniping skill, based on his prior performances..."

"Exactly! If Qin Fen weren't injured, there would be too little suspense in the competition. Now... Ouch! Who threw something and hit my head?" The commentator seated in the middle turned around, searching the area.

"Jiajia..." Lin Liqiang stared eagerly at the competition floor, quietly whispering to Song Jia, "Lady, maintain your ladylike aura. Throwing tomatoes around casually just now could easily damage the beautiful, kind, and virtuous impression you have in Qin Fen's heart."

"Hmph! Who told him to thank the person behind the attack on Qin Fen? If he says anything more, I won't just use tomatoes to express my displeasure. I will use..." Song Jia gently rotated the bright red apple in her hand, "this apple to show him. This young lady is very dissatisfied."

Lin Liqiang glanced sideways at the vividly red, dewy apple in Song Jia's hand. For an ordinary person, throwing such an object would sting; but thrown by someone like Song Jia, who possessed a decent martial arts foundation, even if it couldn't match an iron ball, it would likely be comparable to a frozen steamed bun, right? The commentator better have practiced techniques like the Iron Head Skill or the Vajra Shield; otherwise, that impact might land him in the hospital.

Song Jia pouted adorably, lightly twirling a crimson apple between her fingers.

A pomegranate suddenly appeared in front of Song Jia.

Song Jia parted her delicate lips slightly, directing her gaze towards Inzaghirota, the man who didn't speak much, who offered the pomegranate as a projectile. His actions, as always, were strikingly cool, just like his reserved demeanor.

Lin Liqiang sighed, looking up at the heavens. Old Yin, who had rushed over overnight to prepare medicines, was truly a man of action.

"Thank you." Song Jia took the pomegranate, peeled it, and took out a handful of seeds, casually weighing them in her fair palm.

Lin Liqiang shook his head repeatedly at Song Jia, sighing. Because of Song Wendong's presence, this girl was unable to investigate the mastermind behind Qin Fen's ambush, and her mood was currently at its lowest point.

"Speaking of which, I'm actually most worried about New Recruit Qin Fen's martial arts matches after the sniping competition."

"That's right, that's right! Rumor has it he suffered both a fractured arm and internal injuries. The strength of the martial artists advancing to the top thirty-two is certainly much greater than the initial cohort."

"Exactly. He was rumored to be the favorite to win the martial arts segment for East Asia. Now it seems East Asia’s luck is truly terrible. First, losing their carefully trained Super Soldier Du Zhanpeng before the competition even started, and now Qin Fen..."

A wave of regretful sighs echoed through the audience stands.

"Inzaghirota..."

A voice filled with bewilderment sounded nearby. Lin Liqiang turned to see the European recruit standing not far away: Caesar, known as the [Emperor].

Caesar’s eyes, usually filled with calm, now showed an expression of unbelievable astonishment: "You...?"

"My friend."

Inzaghirota pointed toward Qin Fen, who was entering the armory.

"Three words?" Caesar said, surprised but smiling, "You actually spoke three words? Solomon, did you hear that? Inzaghirota said three words."

Solomon, his eyes gleaming like green crystals, fixed on Qin Fen's retreating back just before he entered the armory: "He said Qin Fen is his friend."

"Inzaghirota has friends?" Caesar stared at the armory entrance, his eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity. "Qin Fen, you actually managed to earn Inzaghirota’s acknowledgment as a friend?"

"Someone who can earn Caesar's attention..."

From over a dozen rows back, Yang Lie reassessed Inzaghirota, whose aura seemed almost completely detached from the world. The first time they met, this man had only struck Yang Lie as a powerful opponent; now, it seemed he had underestimated him.

"His name is [Thunderclap] Inzaghirota. One of the three geniuses of the current European generation, but he is notoriously low-key, hence his relative obscurity."