Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

The sniper range is located in the northwest corner of the base, backed by a naturally formed rock wall, with the target lane extending from the foot of the target to a distance of 800 meters.

Xie Huai'an had already set up a standard sniper rifle at the target position, with a box of unopened bullets next to it.

Bai Ye walked to the target position and looked down at the sniper rifle.

He reached out, picked up the gun, and weighed it in his hand. His movements were slow, but each step was done at a measured pace—checking the bolt, the scope, the bipod, and the magazine.

Xuanxiao stood slightly behind Baiye, holding a box of bullets in his arms. He hadn't stopped talking since the beginning: "Let me tell you, sniper rifles are completely different from assault rifles. The recoil is so strong it can bruise your shoulder. Don't take it too seriously the first time you shoot. Just hitting the target is a win—hitting the target means the bullet hits the target paper, not the ring score. I tried a sniper rifle last time, and the recoil almost knocked me to the ground. My shoulder hurt for days—"

"Shut up." Bai Ye didn't even turn his head.

Xuan Xiao shut up, but a "I knew you'd say that" smile remained on his face. He placed the bullet box next to Bai Ye and stepped back to stand in the viewing area.

In the viewing area, the other members of Group A had already found their spots.

After leaving the fighting room, Lu Xiao had returned to his usual smiling self. The marks on his neck were still there, but he seemed completely unconcerned.

He walked to the target position next to Bai Ye, rested his elbow on the partition, and tilted his head to watch him adjust the scope: "Do you need me to teach you the basics? It's your first time handling a sniper rifle, just adjusting the scope alone will be enough to keep you busy. I can make an exception and give you a demonstration so you can see what proper aiming looks like—"

Before he could finish speaking, Bai Ye had already fired the first shot.

Gunshots rang out across the empty firing range, startling a flock of birds perched on the rock face. Casings ejected from the ejection port, clattering onto the concrete. The electronic target display flickered, then a number appeared.

Ten rings.

Lu Xiao's words caught in his throat. He looked at the numbers on the display screen, then at Bai Ye, who was pulling back the bolt to prepare for the second bullet, his mouth slightly open.

I was guessing.

He said to himself.

Hitting the bullseye on the first shot is largely a matter of luck. While the probability of luck being a beginner is low, it's not impossible.

He cleared his throat, preparing to comment in his signature calm tone, "You're lucky."

Bai Ye fired a second shot. The clatter of the spent cartridge hitting the ground and the beeping of the electronic target detector sounded almost simultaneously. The numbers on the display jumped briefly before returning to the same number.

Ten rings.

Lu Xiao swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He turned his head and stared at Bai Ye's profile.

Bai Ye remained kneeling at the target position, his right eye pressed against the scope, his left hand supporting the bottom of the stock, and his right index finger resting on the outside of the trigger guard.

His breathing rhythm was as steady as a precisely calibrated instrument—inhale, exhale halfway, hold, pull the trigger. The entire process was without the slightest unnecessary tremor; after each trigger pull, he would fine-tune the angle to make up for the minor deviation left by the previous shot.

The third shot. The fourth shot. The fifth shot. The spent cartridges formed a small brass-colored carpet on the ground, and the numbers on the target display remained lit in the same position.

Ten rings. Ten rings. Ten rings.

Each bullet landed in the center of the target paper in an area the size of a fingernail. The bullet holes were so dense that the distance between them could be measured with a ruler—there was almost no distance between them, and the bullets afterward passed directly through the holes made by the bullets before them.

The viewing area was so quiet that only the sound of the wind and the repeated electronic beeping of the target detector could be heard.

Xuan Xiao stood not far behind Bai Ye, as if he were nailed to the spot.

He was just rambling on about "hitting the target is winning," but now, watching the bullseye appear repeatedly on the screen, his mouth opened and closed, then opened and closed again, finally managing to squeeze out a weak "Holy... damn..."

Bai Ye emptied an entire magazine. He put down his gun, stood up, and stretched his shoulders, which were slightly numb from the recoil.

This body's strength and endurance are indeed far from sufficient—in his previous life, he could fire hundreds of sniper bullets in a row without his shoulders aching, but now he feels a dull pain in his shoulder blades after just one magazine.

He turned around and found everyone staring at him like he was a monster. He paused, realizing that his behavior just now was indeed outrageous for a sixteen-year-old recruit who was "handling a sniper rifle for the first time."

"Did your brother teach you sniping too?" Lu Xiao's voice came from the side. His tone was no longer the calm "I'll teach you" from before, but rather a dryness after his understanding had been overturned.

Bai Ye glanced at him.

"Yes. My brother taught me."

This statement was like a universal key, instantly unlocking the cognitive dilemma of everyone present.

Since it was Bai Chen who taught them, there's nothing strange about it.

Bai Chen—the legendary figure who was exceptionally selected for the special forces at sixteen, led a cross-border assassination mission at eighteen, and became the youngest top mercenary in the entire underworld at twenty. It wouldn't be surprising if he raised a younger brother who turned out the way he did.

It wouldn't be surprising if his younger brother could achieve perfect marks with every shot at sixteen. Because he was taught by Bai Chen. Because they are the Bai family. All unreasonable and impossible things instantly become reasonable once the phrase "taught by Bai Chen" is attached.

Lu Xiao walked up to Bai Ye, tilted his head, and looked at him: "Want to have a competition?"

Bai Ye blinked, looking at him suspiciously.

Lu Xiao was stung by his suspicious gaze.

He pointed a finger at his nose, his voice rising a half-octave: "What kind of look is that? Let me tell you, I'm the sniper in Group A. The strongest sniper in the entire Breaking Sky. Since I joined Breaking Sky, I've never fallen out of the top three in sniper assessments. What does that look mean? You think I'd lose to you?"

Bai Ye didn't answer, but her eyes clearly said—Are you sure?

Bai Ye turned to look at the others in the viewing area.

Xie Ran raised his hands in a "I'm not involved" gesture. Shen Zhuo turned his face to the other side, pretending to look at the scenery. Wen Yan pushed up his glasses and said, "To be honest, yes." Xie Huai'an didn't even look up, his pencil scratching something on the paper, and added in a flat tone, "Lu Xiao did indeed have the highest sniping score in Group A, he wasn't lying about that."

Bai Ye turned back to look at Lu Xiao, remained silent for a moment, and then nodded: "How do we compete?"

"Standard sniper competition: 800-meter stationary target, plus three moving targets and two concealed targets. The one with the highest score wins." Lu Xiao walked to his target position and picked up his sniper rifle.

That gun was different from the standard one Bai Ye used—it had a custom grip on the stock, and the scope had been calibrated by him countless times. He was so familiar with every part that it felt like an extension of his own body.

"Start." Xie Huai'an pressed the timer.