"Baolei?" What a fierce name." Yang Lie glanced sideways at the grim-faced man. "Why the long face? Been burned before?"

"Not burned." Zeus pressed his thumbs hard into his temples, gently rubbing them up and down. "Just recalled a scene I’d rather forget. Luckily, he didn't join the army. Otherwise, this year's rookie competition would have been far too lively."

"Is that so?" Yang Lie's eyes lingered on Inzarota's back for a few extra seconds. "A pity such an opponent didn't enlist."

Zeus’s lips twitched twice, muttering under his breath, "You'd better not feel sorry about it. At least, I don't feel any regret at all; I only feel that the god of fortune is still shining upon me."

"Baolei?" Lin Liqiang’s earlobes twitched twice as he nudged Inzarota’s arm with his elbow. "Old Yin, I’ve always been curious. How did a blockhead like you end up with such a formidable nickname?"

Inzarota’s eyebrows twisted in a strange manner. He raised a finger to point at the massive projection screen in the sky, simultaneously triggering bursts of awe from the spectator stands.

The recruits entering the armory didn't immediately select the finished standard-issue weapons displayed on the tables. Instead, everyone began picking through piles of components spread out before them.

Dozens of recruits resembled aunties haggling at a vegetable market, each holding a special case into which they deposited the parts they fancied.

Qin Fen stood quietly outside the crowd. His arm fracture wasn't severe, but it required careful nursing. Pushing into the throng recklessly carried the risk that some trigger-happy recruit might deliberately jostle him, potentially worsening the break and causing more trouble.

Suddenly, several people in the congested crowd retreated backward, clearing a path. Lin Ling walked gracefully to Qin Fen's side, carrying two baskets, setting one down. Without a word, she sat on the floor and began assembling her weapon using parts from the second basket.

Qin Fen smiled, watching the few nearby recruits. Lin Ling’s skill wasn't limited to firearms; her unarmed combat prowess made her a strong contender for the championship. It was utterly impossible for those snipers to stop her.

"Such speed!"

A sharp cry came from the commentary booth outside the armory. Qin Fen nodded repeatedly. Lin Ling’s hands danced like phantom butterflies; in the blink of an eye, a pile of components transformed into precision anti-sniper equipment under her touch.

The military enthusiasts stared blankly at the huge screen, speechless for a long moment. Assembling a rifle—that was a true test of skill, especially for complex instruments like anti-sniper gear, which demanded utmost care to avoid affecting firing accuracy.

Click… click…

Lin Ling smoothly lifted the large rifle, performing the final adjustments. Empty casings flew out one by one. Her dashing figure gave many spectators a breathless feeling.

Qin Fen glanced down at the parts in his own basket. These were components that had seen use in previous missions. Lin Ling must have reviewed the military district's related records; her memory was impeccable. Every component that had been used was present here, and not a single unused part was in the basket.

"Two parts are still missing."

Qin Fen looked up, scanning the finished weapons around him. To ensure his injured arm healed as quickly as possible, he needed to minimize the vibration his body endured. Jostling with the crowd to scavenge parts was dangerous, so dismantling seemed the better choice.

Carrying his basket, Qin Fen walked toward the Barrett, the rifle he was most familiar with. His left hand shot out, grasping the twelve-point-nine-kilogram Barrett.

"Oh? East Asian rookie Qin Fen is going to use the standard-issue Barrett?"

"I suppose so? It'll be tough for him to assemble a rifle with just one hand."

"A standard weapon to claim… Good heavens!"

"Huh?" A chorus of gasps erupted from the stands as the screen showed Qin Fen gripping the twelve-point-nine-kilogram Barrett with his left hand. He gave his wrist a slight twitch, and without any other visible action, the sturdy anti-sniper equipment disintegrated into a pile of parts on the floor, several pieces with good elasticity still bouncing.

Two recruits who had finished selecting their parts and were turning to assemble their weapons stared blankly at the scene. Disassembling a gun like that? How did he do it?

"Oh my god, did you see how that gun fell apart?"

"It looked like Rookie Qin Fen just flicked his wrist..."

The third commentator vigorously shook his head, his surprised face suddenly alight with joy. "Haha! It seems Rookie Qin Fen hasn't given up on fighting today! Even with only one hand, he can still pull off astonishing feats! But come to think of it, if the other rookies can’t even beat an injured soldier, they’ll truly lose face, sending it straight to the Arctic Ocean."

"More than the Arctic Ocean; I say it’s lost to Pluto."

The recruits inside the armory listened to the three commentators’ jibes, their faces darkening. If murder weren't against the law, those commentators would already be pulp riddled with sniper rounds.

An injured soldier? What kind of injured soldier could disassemble a precise, sturdy Barrett with a mere flick of the wrist? What kind of monster could assemble a rifle one-handed faster than everyone else assembling with two?

The military enthusiasts furiously pinched their own faces, trying to confirm they weren't dreaming. Someone, with one arm bandaged and immobile, was assembling a rifle five times faster than those using both hands!

If his hands were whole? The recruits shivered. Luckily, the man was injured. Luckily, this time the competition was sniping, not just rifle assembly.

The battle commencing was a different matter from assembly.

"Hoo..."

Qin Fen blew lightly across the assembled barrel and swiftly exited the armory with his new weapon.

"We… we really can't even beat an injured soldier, can we?"

Inside the armory, one recruit looked questioningly at the others.

...

A brief silence of several seconds was broken as a fierce fighting spirit suddenly ignited in the eyes of all the recruits simultaneously.

"No! If we can’t beat the peak Qin Fen, can’t we beat the injured Qin Fen?"

"Win! I must win against Qin ফেন!"

Shouts filled with fighting spirit roared out of the armory. A chill shot up Qin Fen's spine to his forehead, and he kept smacking his lips, muttering, "Obsession is truly terrifying."

"I will win."

Lin Ling was checking her anti-sniper equipment when her cold, emotionless voice reached Qin Fen again.

Qin Fen managed a wry smile. This woman’s obsession was even scarier; her emotionless tone made her sound even more aggressive.

On the screen, the recruits, fueled by high morale, were clearly assembling their weapons much faster. Qin Fen clicked his tongue in amazement. Some heads were getting overly hot and muddled; the way they were assembling those guns—if they were using live rounds, the first shot would definitely cause a blowback explosion.

"The official start of the sniping competition is very soon! Exciting!"

"Yeah, if Qin Fen can still win holding a gun with one hand today, then… haha…"

"I wonder how the commanders are preparing? Let's switch the screen and interview them."

The massive projection screen flickered, showing several military officers in the wilderness of the barren lands—majors, colonels, and even a major general—casually chatting while holding their sniping equipment. Their composed demeanor couldn't hide the iron-blooded aura of true soldiers beneath.

"Hello Commanders. We are the commentators for this competition. May we interview you? How are you feeling right now? Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?"

The commander in the Army Colonel uniform paused in surprise, then the group burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.

"Nervous, nervous, we are so nervous," the Lieutenant Colonel, clearly of European descent, managed to say while stifling a smirk. "I'm truly terrified."

"Terrified of what?"

"Terrified of what?" The Lieutenant Colonel of African descent rolled his eyes. "I’m afraid the fight will be too short. Before I’ve had my fill, these raw rookies will be crying and begging for their mothers, wanting to stop playing."

"I'm also afraid," chimed in the Major from East Asia, wielding an elastic rod in the air as if striking cowering rookies. "I'm afraid I’ll evade these 'cream puff' rookies' sniping, get close enough to beat them up, and then they’ll yell that I'm cheating."

"Oh~ you all sound very confident. Do you know there's a rookie gaining a lot of attention this time named Qin Fen…" The commentator's voice dripped with provocative sarcasm. "Be careful not to capsize in a gutter."

"Capsize in a gutter? Haha…" The Major General of American descent, who seemed to be the leader, laughed heartily. "In the history of the rookie competition, there's always a rookie who makes a splash. None have ever escaped the fate of being utterly crushed in the sniping competition. Don't worry, we’ll save him for last, then press a gun barrel to his forehead simultaneously, letting him feel what it’s like to have a whole row of guns pressed against your head."

"Oh? Is that so?" The commentator chuckled, pointing to the director. "Director, give the most talked-about Qin Fen a close-up. What are your thoughts after hearing the seniors' conversation?"

"..." Qin Fen scratched the back of his head. "Nervous, nervous. I'm terribly nervous. I’m so scared. I’m really scared."

Hahahaha...

The spectator stands erupted in peals of laughter. No one expected Qin Fen to mimic the commanders' tones and inflections from moments before. Closing one's eyes, it was nearly impossible to tell which voice belonged to Qin Fen and which belonged to the officers.

The faces of the commander team on the broadcast screen instantly turned green! They intended to mock the rookies, but instead, they were openly ridiculed by a rookie in front of tens of thousands of people.

"Commanders," the commentator said, clearly reveling in the chaos. "I’m not trying to stir up trouble! I don't know how you'll react to this rookie's answer, but I know! If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't tolerate it."

The audience burst into laughter again. This commentator was truly wicked, openly instigating conflict between both sides.

The commander team fell silent for a few seconds. The Lieutenant Colonel of European descent slowly raised his head, fixing his gaze on Qin Fen through the screen, and said very formally, "Young East Asian rookie, soon, you will truly be scared."

Qin Fen bowed slightly. "Perhaps, but the person who hits me certainly won't be you. I believe that you, wearing the Lieutenant Colonel’s uniform, must be the highest-scoring target for this team, right? I’m sure many of your comrades will be very interested in you when the battle begins."

The Lieutenant Colonel’s polite smile froze, a flicker of surprise quickly crossing his eyes. This kid seemed to have some background; he could discern identities just by looking through a screen.