Courtyard House: A Major Power's Heavy Industry, Hand-Crafted Nuclear Fusion

Behind the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, there is a temporarily cleared wasteland shooting range.

The morning mist, like a light veil, enveloped the rolling mountains.

The air was filled with the scent of damp earth, mixed with the fresh fragrance of withered grass in the distance.

"Boom—Boom—"

Several military green jeeps, kicking up yellow dust, charged into the tranquil wasteland like mad bulls, startling a flock of birds.

Director Yang sat in the passenger seat of the first car, his face pale, one hand gripping the handrail tightly, the other constantly wiping the fine beads of cold sweat from his forehead.

He was startled awake from his warm bed by an urgent phone call from Section Chief Wang of the security department not long ago.

Wang, the section chief, was trembling on the phone: "Factory manager! Engineer Su... Engineer Su really made a gun! He's on his way to the firing range in the back mountains to test it! Please come quickly, I'm afraid something might happen and I won't be able to handle it!"

In that instant, Director Yang felt like the sky was about to fall.

Making guns?

Is that a joke?

Although the top leader said "special cases will be handled specially," that must be done under the premise of safety!

What if the barrel explodes?

What if the fire goes off and injures Su Zheng, this precious gem?

Su Zheng is now a key protected individual under the Ministry of Industry. If even a hair on his head is lost, Director Yang's career is over, and he might even have to clean toilets with Xu Damao.

"Nonsense! Absolutely nonsense!"

As soon as the car came to a stop, Factory Director Yang pushed open the door and got out, angrily cursing as he did so:

"Wang Jianguo! What are you doing as the head of security? Su Zheng is being irresponsible, and you're going crazy with him? Why didn't you report this dangerous experiment beforehand? Were any protective measures taken? Did you call the medical team?"

Although he was cursing fiercely, Director Yang walked faster than anyone else, not even bothering to fix the military overcoat that had slipped halfway off his shoulders.

At this moment, in the center of the firing range.

Su Zheng stood there calmly, wearing work clothes stained with oil.

Beside him, Section Chief Wang of the Security Section and militia member Zhao Daniu were gathered around a black rifle placed on an ammunition box, their expressions as varied as if they had seen a ghost.

Zhao Daniu was a typical Shandong man, big and burly, who loved to tinker with firearms.

But now, looking at the strangely shaped rifle in front of him, he rubbed his hands together, but dared not reach out to touch it.

"Mr. Su, this...this thing really works?"

Zhao Dani swallowed hard, pointing at the hollowed-out stock and the suspended barrel, looking utterly bewildered.

"This looks like a skeleton. Is it even sturdy? What if the butt falls apart the moment you fire a shot?"

Several militia members who had come to watch the spectacle couldn't help but whisper among themselves.

"Yeah, this gun looks too flimsy."

"There's not even a handguard; the barrel is just exposed bare. Wouldn't it burn your hand if it got hot from firing?"

"And that scope, that huge tube on top, isn't it heavy?"

They were used to the solid, rugged, and even "cumbersome" design style of Soviet weapons.

In their minds, a good gun should be heavy, so heavy that you could swing it around like a fire poker and it wouldn't deform even if you hit a rock.

The gun that Su Zheng created was full of the design concepts of "industrial minimalism" and "modularization" of later generations. It was full of precisely machined edges and heat dissipation holes, exuding an indescribable coldness and science fiction feel, which was out of step with the aesthetics of this era.

"Don't judge a book by its cover."

Su Zheng wasn't annoyed; he just smiled faintly and reached out to pick up the gun.

The movements were light yet powerful.

"This is called a 'floating barrel,' designed to prevent the handguard from contacting the barrel and causing resonance during firing, which could affect accuracy. This is called a 'hollowed-out stock,' designed to reduce weight while maintaining strength. As for its sturdiness..."

Su Zheng casually grabbed the gun barrel and, in front of everyone, slammed it hard against the sandbag next to him like a sledgehammer.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

The gun remained completely still, not even a scratch.

"...Whether it's just for show or not, we'll know after firing a couple of shots, won't we?" Su Zheng handed the gun to Zhao Daniu.

Zhao Daniu instinctively took the gun.

His hand suddenly felt heavy, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

This gun looks light and flimsy, but it is actually quite heavy, and its center of gravity is well distributed, landing perfectly on the grip point of the forehand.

Especially the ergonomically designed grip, which seemed to have a suction force, fitting him incredibly well, giving him the illusion that he and the gun were one.

"Director Yang, you've arrived."

Su Zheng greeted Director Yang, who was running over breathlessly, saying, "Perfect timing, you're here to be a witness."

"Su Zheng, you...you also need to be careful."

Factory Director Yang looked at the dark weapon, his heart still pounding, but since things had come to this point, he could only grit his teeth and continue watching.

"How do we fight?"

Zhao Daniu skillfully pulled back the bolt to check the magazine.

The bolt slid with a smooth, buttery sound, producing a crisp "click" that sent a shiver down the spines of everyone present who knew about guns.

Such precise machining!

"Let's start with a 100-meter target practice to warm up," Su Zheng said, pointing to the target in the distance.

"One hundred meters? That's something anyone can do!"

Zhao Daniu curled his lip.

He was a renowned sharpshooter in the entire factory; a 100-meter target was an insult to him.

He raised his gun, instinctively trying to find the sights and notch.

However, this gun had no iron sights at all.

"Use that mirror," Su Zheng reminded him.

Zhao Daniu brought his eyes close to the huge optical sight.

The next second, his body suddenly stiffened, as if he had been struck by lightning.

Holy crap!

Zhao Daniu couldn't help but swear, completely forgetting that Director Yang was right next to him.

In his field of vision, the 100-meter target, which was originally only the size of a palm, seemed to have been pulled directly to his nose by an invisible hand!

So clear!

Even the curled corner of the target paper blown by the wind, and the movement of a greenbottle fly rubbing its legs on the bullseye, can be seen clearly!

"This...this is telescopic vision!"

Zhao Daniu's breathing became rapid.

As a veteran shooter, he knew all too well what this meant.

Having this kind of view at this distance is practically cheating!

"Hold your breath, fire. Note that the trigger is very light, only 1.5 kilograms of force," Su coldly reminded him from the side.

Zhao Daniu took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the shock in his heart, and gently pressed the trigger with his index finger.

It's so sensitive!

Almost the instant he made the decision, the firing pin was released.

"Bang!"

A dull, short gunshot rang out.

The sound was completely different from the crisp "snap" of a regular Type 56 semi-automatic drum. It was more like a heavy hammer striking a thick cowhide drum, deep, powerful, and soul-stirring.

That was the first roar of the muzzle brake in this era.

Zhao Daniu felt a slight jolt in his shoulder; the recoil was much gentler than he had imagined!

The target marker in the distance raised the red flag, waved it vigorously, and then shouted:

"Bullets! The bullseye!"

"Great gun! It's a fucking great gun!"

Zhao Daniu shouted excitedly and pulled the bolt.

A bright yellow shell casing was ejected, spinning through the air in a graceful arc before landing with a clatter on the ground.

With a crisp metallic clang, the second bullet was smoothly chambered.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three more shots were fired in quick succession.

Zhao Daniu lost his temper and emptied all the bullets in the magazine in one go.

The target reporter ran over like a rabbit, glanced at it, and then went completely mad, running and yelling while holding the target paper:

"Section Chief! Factory Director! Amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

"What's wrong?" Section Chief Wang snatched the target paper from him.

On the bullseye, there was only a slightly enlarged bullet hole with obvious layers of burning marks around the edge.

"Missed the target?" Director Yang asked, puzzled.

"It wasn't a miss..."

Section Chief Wang's voice was trembling as he touched the bullet hole with shaky fingers:

"This...this is a recoil hole! Four bullets...all hit this one hole!"

The scene was deathly silent.

All the militiamen stared wide-eyed at the dark rifle as if it were a monster.

One hundred meters, four recoil holes.

In their understanding, this was a marksmanship that only existed in storytelling and legends.

"A coincidence...it must be a coincidence, right?"

Factory Director Yang muttered something unconsciously, feeling his throat getting a little dry.

"You're surprised?"

Su Zheng took the gun back from Zhao Daniu, who was still in a daze, and gently blew away the non-existent blue smoke from the muzzle brake. His eyes held a hint of the arrogance of a tech geek:

"A hundred meters is for raw recruits to build their courage. This gun isn't meant for that."

He skillfully pulled out a fully loaded clip, pressed down hard with his thumb, and with two "clicks," the bullets were loaded into the magazine.

Then, he turned around, raised his long, slender finger, and pointed to a lonely, withered old pine tree on a distant hillside.

"Section Chief Wang, estimate the distance."

Section Chief Wang squinted and looked at it. As a veteran reconnaissance soldier, his visual distance estimation error would not exceed ten meters.

"That tree... is about 410 meters tall."

"Four hundred meters..."

The surrounding militiamen gasped in shock.

In that era, rifles with iron sights had an effective range of only about 400 meters.

Beyond this distance, the target is smaller than the crosshair, and hitting it is all a matter of luck, not to mention having to consider wind drift and drop.

"Mr. Su, which tree do you want to cut down?"

Section Chief Wang was somewhat bewildered. Although felling trees was difficult, it was still a large target and not too outrageous.

"No."

Su Zheng's clear, cold voice echoed across the empty shooting range: "Shoot the sparrow on the tree branch, the one preening its feathers."

"What?!"

Everyone present thought they had misheard, even Director Yang's eyes widened.

Four hundred meters, hunting sparrows?

The sparrow was 400 meters away, barely bigger than a sesame seed! In fact, if you didn't look closely, you wouldn't even notice it!

This is no longer a matter of marksmanship; it's pushing the limits of physics!

"Engineer Su, you must be joking."

Zhao Daniu said with a wry smile, "It's so far away, and it's just a sparrow. Even if a god came, it would be a disaster..."

Before he could finish speaking, Su Zheng had already raised his gun.

Standing posture.

Without support.

That was an extremely confident, even arrogant, shooting stance.

Factory Director Yang's heart leaped into his throat, as if the gun wasn't aimed at a sparrow, but at his heart.

He instinctively raised the binoculars in front of his chest, his hands trembling violently, and with great difficulty he finally found the small, dusty dot on the branch of the old pine tree.

It really is a sparrow.

At this moment, in Su Zheng's eyes, the world is no longer the same world.

The Eye of Truth is activated.

[Environmental data scanning in progress...]

[Target distance: 412.5 meters.]

[Wind direction: Northwest, wind speed 3.2 m/s, gust correction 0.5 mil.]

[Air humidity: 45%]

Temperature: 12 degrees Celsius.

[Coriolis effect: weak, negligible.]

[Ballistics calculation complete.]

Countless pale blue lines intertwined on his retina, constructing a sophisticated three-dimensional model.

A red dotted line extended from the muzzle of the gun, tracing a perfect parabola, passing through the wind's obstruction, and finally locking onto the head of that tiny life form.

Aiming at the crosshairs in the scope, I steadily caught the sparrow.

Su Zheng's breathing became extremely calm, and his heartbeat seemed to slow down.

At that moment, he felt as if he and the gun in his hand had become one, and the cold barrel was his outstretched arm.

The wind gently blew across the muzzle of the gun.

The trigger was slowly pulled.

"Bang!"