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

The shooting assessment was scheduled for the morning of the second day after the recruit assessment.

Instructor Zheng stood beside the shooting line, holding the assessment record board in his hand, his expression even colder and harder than yesterday.

"Shooting assessment, rules as usual." Instructor Zheng's voice was flat, as if he were reading an operation manual that he had read hundreds of times. "Prone position with support, distance 100 meters, chest target, ten bullets, full score 100 rings. Those whose names are called, step forward. After shooting, report the target and return to the line."

The new recruits took turns going to the firing line. Gunshots echoed across the range, and the target markers fluttered above the target trenches. The first few scored fairly average, mostly between eighty and ninety rings.

When it was Xuanxiao's turn, he walked to the firing position and glanced at Bai Ye standing in the line before lying down. Bai Ye was looking towards the firing range, his expression as calm as usual. Xuanxiao looked away, lay down, took his rifle, and adjusted his breathing.

He had actually considered competing with Bai Ye. But the thought only lasted two seconds before he dismissed it—the image of him doing eighteen one-handed pull-ups yesterday was still vivid in his mind. Competing with Bai Ye would only be asking for trouble. He'd rather do his own work well, at least not embarrass himself in front of him.

Ten shots rang out, the rhythm even. The target marker was raised—one hundred rings.

Xuan Xiao got up from the ground, brushed the sand off his knees, and turned to walk back to the ranks. He paused as he passed Bai Ye, a slight smile playing on his lips, his tone carrying an undisguised air of self-satisfaction: "One hundred rings."

Bai Ye nodded. "I saw it."

Xuan Xiao waited a second, but didn't receive any more praise. He clicked his tongue and walked back to his seat.

"Bai Ye," Instructor Zheng called out his name.

Bai Ye stepped out of the ranks and walked towards the firing position. As he passed Instructor Zheng, Instructor Zheng suddenly spoke.

"stop."

Bai Ye stopped, turned around, and stood at attention in perfect posture. His tone was calm: "Reporting, Instructor, is there a problem?"

Instructor Zheng tucked the record board under his arm, put his hands behind his back, and looked at Bai Ye with a scrutinizing gaze.

"I heard you ranked first in shooting in basic training," Instructor Zheng said calmly, but every word seemed to pave the way for what was to come, "How about you have a shooting contest with me?"

Bai Ye remained silent for a moment. He looked at Instructor Zheng, his eyes filled with a faint sense of confusion—this guy had just been humiliated yesterday, why was he here again today? But he didn't say it aloud. He simply nodded, his tone almost as if he had agreed to bring someone food: "Okay."

A slight smile appeared on Instructor Zheng's lips.

"The 100-meter target is too close; it doesn't show your skill level." He glanced at the depths of the shooting range, then waved towards the target trench. "Move the target paper back. Move it to 400 meters."

The commotion in the queue escalated from subtle to overt clamor.

Four hundred meters.

The effective range of the Type 95 automatic rifle is 400 meters.

The target paper was moved to the 400-meter mark. From the shooting position, the chest target had shrunk to a small white dot the size of a palm, and the ten-ring mark was almost blending into the limit of naked-eye visibility.

Instructor Zheng walked to the firing position, lay down, and took aim. His movements were clean and efficient, every step showing the skill of a veteran—feet apart, butt of the rifle against his shoulder, cheek against his chest, aiming.

After firing ten shots, he stood up, dusted himself off, turned to look at the target trench, and smiled with a determined smile.

The target pole has been raised.

Ninety-six rings.

A gasp escaped someone in the ranks. Ninety-six rings in four hundred meters—that's an excellent score in any military unit. Instructor Zheng was no ordinary talker; he had real skills.

Instructor Zheng turned to look at Bai Ye, his smile deepening. "Your turn."

The target paper at 400 meters away is just a blurry outline in the scope.

Bai Ye squinted and shifted his aim to the left by about two finger widths to correct the deviation caused by the light.

After firing the last shot, he stood up from the ground and rubbed his right elbow joint very gently, as if checking the position of the bone.

The target pole has been raised.

Total score: 100 rings.

Four hundred meters, full loop.

The silence in the queue lasted for a full three seconds, and then the roar that erupted was louder than the pull-up session yesterday.

Instructor Zheng's expression changed in that instant.

He took two quick steps forward, snatched the binoculars from the soldier next to him, and held them up to stare at the target paper 400 meters away.

"Impossible." He put down his binoculars, turned around and stared at Bai Ye. "This is impossible. At a distance of four hundred meters, a recruit your age couldn't possibly achieve such a result."

Xuanxiao's voice rang out from the ranks, carrying a barely suppressed but still barely concealed smug sarcasm: "Instructor Zheng, aren't you supposed to be very strong? How come you can't even beat a new recruit?"

Instructor Zheng suddenly turned his head to look in Xuan Xiao's direction, his face turning pale and then red.

Lu Xiao appeared from the back of the line at some point, placing a hand on Xuan Xiao's shoulder. The pressure was light, but the placement was precise, with his five fingers hooking into the hollow between Xuan Xiao's shoulder blade and collarbone. Xuan Xiao's words were instantly cut short.

"Alright, alright," Lu Xiao said in a lighthearted tone, as if he were having a casual chat. His voice was so low that only Xuan Xiao could hear it. "Go easy on me."

Xuan Xiao wanted to say something, but Lu Xiao had already led him to the back of the line.

Lu Xiao's movements were very natural, looking like he was pulling a new recruit back into the ranks to maintain order. Only Xuan Xiao could feel the strength of the hand on his shoulder—not heavy, but the grip made it impossible for him to exert any force on one side of his shoulder.

"I'm just saying what's fair—" Xuan Xiao protested in a low voice.

"Save your fair words for when you get back to Li Mo, and see if he'll listen."

Xuanxiao immediately shut up.

Instructor Zheng stood still, his scoreboard hanging at his side. He glanced down at Bai Ye's target score, then at his own record of 96 rings, his Adam's apple bobbing several times.

He closed the record board.

"I'll request a change of examiners for this batch of recruits." His voice was much lower than before; the forcefulness he'd forced out had crumbled into dust, leaving only a weary calm. "You guys—never mind. I'm not going to say anything more."

He turned and walked out of the training ground. After a few steps, he stopped, glanced at Company Commander Zhou, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything and continued walking.

Xuan Xiao broke free from Lu Xiao's grasp at some point and squeezed next to Bai Ye, unable to suppress the smile on his lips. He didn't say "As expected of my partner" or "You're amazing," he just stood there with his arms crossed, watching the target flags fluttering in the air above the shooting range, a smirk on his face.