Please ask the dream.

Chapter 571: Practice in Dreams
"Don't trust your feel, just aim carefully!"

"Don't aim at the head, aim at the heart. That way if you miss, there's a greater chance you'll hit somewhere else!"

"Don't use architecture calibration, that's something you should consider after you can hit the target accurately without architecture!"

"Don't stare at those advanced guns. The gun structures of the old era are the most reliable!"

"Don't trust the accuracy of a pistol. It's a close-combat weapon. Don't think you can kill with one shot from more than ten meters away!"

"The first shot is to assist you in aiming. Be prepared to miss!"

"You must maintain and become familiar with your gun every day, but every time you shoot it, you must use it as if it were a strange gun!"

……

In the first six months, Feng Xue accepted a shooting theory that was completely different from that of Guoyuan. The firearms knowledge taught by this uncle was completely unlike the concept of an architecture era. Instead, it gave Feng Xue a feeling that the architecture did not exist at all.

But there is no doubt that as a basic of handgun shooting it is absolutely standard.

As the training continued, the instructions Feng Xue heard gradually changed from "don't do this or that" to more straightforward education. Feng Xue, who had rich learning experience, also understood that this was a sign that he was gradually correcting his mistakes and starting to get on the normal training track.

Although he was very curious as to why a killer would pick up a ten-year-old child whose entire family he had killed as his successor, Feng Xue, the possessed person, did not care about such things at all. What did the blood feud of the dream owner have to do with him? He only cared about what he could learn from this dream.

As it turns out, this uncle is quite good at teaching.

"Bang bang bang bang..."

After emptying a magazine of bullets, Feng Xue did not look at the target, but walked straight to the corner of the underground shooting range and evenly applied the prepared ointment on his sore wrist.

——This is not target practice, but intensive training.

Even though the gun in his hand is just a so-called "girl's gun" and is equipped with subsonic bullets, its recoil is still not something that a ten-year-old boy like Feng Xue can handle. In addition to a series of physical exercises including push-ups, his daily training now involves constantly pulling the trigger to allow the recoil of the gun to continuously act on his wrist, thereby getting familiar with this momentum.

It is worth mentioning that it took him a lot of time just to train his index finger to be able to pull the trigger weighing about 4 pounds (nearly kilograms).

Although the main exercise was for the wrists, Feng Xue felt pain all over after firing this volley of bullets. Although the uncle, whose name was either "Torre" or codenamed "Tower" in Shinra (the two are homophones), was not in the shooting range at this time, Feng Xue still obediently obeyed his request not to use any structure in training.

It's not that he is following his heart or is timid, nor is it that Uncle Torre will monitor him, it's simply because he is in training.

Although his body is not as young as his peers, he has very good self-control and will not take shortcuts or seek convenience. He will just follow the training instructions. After all, no matter how much he learns in the end, it will be his own wealth.

As the days passed, the recoil from the gun became less severe at a visible speed. Although if I didn't apply medicine, my arm would still ache the next day.

After applying the ointment again, Feng Xue disassembled his pistol, skillfully checked the condition of each component, applied gun oil, and then reassembled them one by one. During the days in the dream, this was the only part that had no conflict with what he had learned in the orchard.

Feng Xue completed the maintenance with a skill that would make an experienced person ashamed. He washed the residue off his hands, then packed the gun and left the "slightly" large basement.

Lying casually on the sofa, Feng Xue picked up the milk that had been placed in hot water before starting training. When he drank it, the temperature was just right.

After all, milk is good for children's growth and development, this is common sense!
Although there is a TV, all content not related to the trial will be blocked in the dream. So when you turn on the TV, except for a few news about murders and shootings; film and television works with gun battles and killer themes, and content such as shooting competitions, other occasions will only be a distorted screen. For this reason, Feng Xue can only close his eyes semi-actively and forcedly in his spare time, using meditation to polish his small universe, a technique that is more convenient for practice.

It's a pity that compared to the microcosm he had personally experienced, the magnetic field power used by Feng Xue was just a "fake" constructed under the momentary impulse and the exaggerated and ridiculous awareness of Kawajiri Hayato. It's not so much that it was the powerful rotation of the magnetic field, but rather that Hayato's awareness was powerful. After all, with that kind of awareness, any structure will become supermodel.

He kept sketching the pattern of the nine stars of the Big Dipper in his mind, but each time it was different. And in each of these sketches, Feng Xue's feeling about the small universe in his heart seemed to be nourished and deepened continuously, but it also remained active in the changes, rather than being completely solidified like a war architect.

If he doesn't become a dreamer, his brain won't be liberated, and his brain power will still be limited to human limits. This is an insurmountable gap. Feng Xue felt his mind beginning to become a little distracted, so he stopped meditating.

"He hasn't come back yet... Every time it comes to this, I always think that guy might be dead."

Taking food out of the refrigerator, Feng Xue used his culinary skills and the law of causality to cook, but his eyes glanced at the clock. Many people think that being a killer is a high-end job with a very high salary, but this is actually a very serious misunderstanding.

To be precise, only in countries with strict laws, security and stability can killers earn high incomes, because in such places, the risks they have to take in order to kill their targets are also quite high.

But on the other hand, if it is a region where wars are frequent and laws are just empty words, the cost of killing a person may not even be enough to feed him for a week.

Unfortunately, he is currently in an area where Batman has to admit that Gotham City is a peaceful and prosperous place.

"Are you thinking about me dying outside again?"

Suddenly, Torre's somewhat noisy voice came from the door. Feng Xue glanced at it and ignored it as usual.

Torre was not surprised at all. He put the ingredients he brought back into the refrigerator one by one, and then said:
"That's great. Prepare one for me too! Really, these people are becoming more and more uncivilized. Fortunately, I was careful after what happened to you. Otherwise, I would have to bring you another junior brother..."

"So? Didn't you make the deal? Then why did you come back so late?" Feng Xue glanced at Torre, who immediately smiled brightly:

"I killed the client."

(End of this chapter)