America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Chen Ming reached out and knocked on the iron gate, then pushed it open.

"Who is it? If it's an insurance salesman or God, I'll count to three and you'd better get lost, or I'll shoot a hole in your ass with a shotgun!"

An old man with gray hair and one eye was sitting at the workbench, wearing a yellowed Marine Corps T-shirt, clutching an M1911 part in his hand.

"Who are you? This isn't a Chinese restaurant, nor is this a place for you to film TikTok videos or anything like that..."

Old Joe glanced at Chen Ming's clean T-shirt and jeans, then looked at the food cart with a disdainful expression.

"If you're looking to borrow some big guns to take photos and impress the girls in town, turn right when you go out the door and there's a sissy club called 'Hollywood Gunmen.' The guns there are all plastic, so they definitely won't get your hands dirty..."

"I was introduced by Yuri to learn how to shoot."

"Learn to shoot?" Old Joe asked as if he'd heard a joke.

"This isn't a Boy Scout summer camp. I suggest you go back to chopping your carrots."

"I have a gun, and I know how to take the safety off." Chen Ming patted his waist.

"But I need more professional guidance. Not just hitting the target, but the skills to survive in a gunfight and blow your opponent's head off."

"You want to learn tactical shooting?"

Old Joe scoffed and tossed the part back onto the table.

"Listen, Asian kid, my time is precious. I don't have time to play special forces games with a pampered internet celebrity like you."

"Last time, some idiot like you insisted on trying to do some stupid dual-wielding thing here, and ended up punching himself in the thigh. I had to take him to the hospital, and the back seat of the car was covered in blood..."

"I'm also very busy and don't want to waste time."

Chen Ming interrupted Old Qiao's incessant chatter, took out a wad of banknotes from his pocket, and slammed them on the table.

"Five hundred dollars for two hours. I want the best guidance, something hands-on."

"If you don't teach, there are plenty of others who will."

"..."

Old Joe's gaze shifted from Chen Ming's face to the banknotes on the table, then back to Chen Ming's face. The disdain and impatience in his one eye vanished instantly, replaced by a gleam of "professionalism."

"Ahem... Although I'm very busy, as Yuri's friend, I can't refuse to give him face."

Old Joe stood up, took a pair of noise-canceling earmuffs off the wall, and tossed them to Chen Ming, his expression becoming incredibly friendly.

"Welcome to Coyote Valley, new recruits. I'm Old Joe, the best shooting instructor around here—if you can afford it, I can teach you how to swat mosquitoes with a Barrett..."

"Come with me, bring your guys."

Chen Ming took the earmuffs, a slight smile playing on his lips.

It turns out that the United States is very good at interpersonal relationships—everyone gave Franklin face.

Stepping out of the container, Old Qiao led Chen Ming through the noisy crowd to a relatively isolated shooting position at the very edge of the range.

It was piled with old tires and sandbags, making it look more like a trench.

"Draw your gun, kid."

Old Joe stood to the side with his arms crossed, like a picky instructor.

"Don't tell me you're holding one of those sissy guns studded with diamonds."

Chen Ming reached out and lifted his T-shirt, skillfully pulling out a Glock from his waist.

The movements were a bit stiff, but still quite steady.

"Glock 19, the classic plastic box." Old Joe pursed his lips, seemingly somewhat disappointed.

"I thought you, a city bumpkin, would come out and show off a gold-plated Desert Eagle."

"As long as it's practical, that's fine."

Chen Ming gripped his pistol and aimed it at a human-shaped target twenty meters ahead.

"What should I do? Just shoot?"

"Fire five shots first, let me see your true strength." Old Joe lit a cigarette.

"Don't try to hit the head, hit the torso first."

Chen Ming took a deep breath, recalling the movements he had seen in online videos, and aimed his gun with both hands.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

After five gunshots, several scattered bullet holes appeared on the target paper in the distance.

Two shots missed the target, one hit the edge of the shoulder and the other hit the stomach, and only one barely grazed the chest.

"..."

Old Joe exhaled a smoke ring, looked at the mangled target, and shook his head.

"I knew it... typical of someone who watches too many movies."

"If you used your marksmanship to shoot zombies, they would laugh and run away from you."

That's why I came to find you.

Chen Ming withdrew the magazine without changing his expression.

He hadn't used a gun much, and his skill list didn't even include any shooting-related skills.

"Fine, for the money."

Old Joe threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. He then walked behind Chen Ming and began to correct his posture.

"Feet apart, knees slightly bent, body leaning forward... Yes, like you're going to punch a target. Grip the gun tighter, don't hold it like you're holding a girl's hand. Treat the gun like a part of your body, like it's your own..."

"Keep your eyes on the sights, not the target! That damn target isn't moving!"

Amid Old Joe's roars, Chen Ming began repeating the tedious actions over and over again.

Draw gun, aim, fire...

Soon, that familiar feeling welled up in his heart again.

Chen Ming's high mental attribute of 26 points began to take effect. Every key point and every detail of the action that Old Joe said was recorded by Chen Ming's brain like a video recorder and then fed back to his muscles.

Just a few minutes later, his movements became smoother, his grip on the gun became more and more stable, and the bullet holes scattered on the target paper visibly narrowed.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three more shots were fired.

This time, all three bullets hit the chest ring area of ​​the human-shaped target, forming a neat triangular pattern.

"Um?"

Old Joe, who was about to continue his tirade, was stunned.

How did this kid's movements become so precise in just a few minutes?

"Good luck, you can have another set!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

All five shots hit the target.

All the bullets hit the red circle in his chest, and two of the bullet holes even almost overlapped.

The cigarette fell out of Old Joe's mouth.

He had taught countless green recruits and many wealthy people who wanted to try their hand at it... but he had never seen anyone make such great progress in just a few minutes.

It was practically like... directly copying and pasting the instructor's experience with your body.

"Is this all you're going to teach?"

Chen Ming put down his gun and turned to look at Old Joe, who had a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"Anything more advanced? Like... mobile shooting?"

"That's interesting..."

Old Joe grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth.

"You want to learn advanced techniques... Fine, kid, then don't blame me for being impolite."

Old Joe turned and walked to the pile of equipment next to him, dragged out a few steel targets with bells hanging from them, and threw them on the sand.

"Listen, in a real gunfight, nobody's going to stand there like an idiot and let you shoot them. You need to move, move like a startled rabbit, and at the same time, keep your gun steady!"

"Watch closely, I'll only demonstrate once!"