Delta: I have a 1-Haf Coin instant kill system!

Uluru laughed and said that it didn't bother him anymore.

Red Wolf glanced at Wei Long unexpectedly.

"What? Are you envious?"

Wei Long twitched the corner of his mouth.

"I'm envious? I'm afraid that guy will get kicked away by the 'Claw of Horrors' instructor."

Upon hearing this, both Red Wolf and Uluru were taken aback.

The two burly men exchanged a glance and then burst out laughing at the same time.

"You know what—"

Uluru stroked his chin and looked toward the corner of the training field.

"I still vividly remember Instructor Hazak's kick~"

Red Wolf smiled and shook his head, then screwed the lid of the thermos onto the cup.

"Alright, stop worrying about it!"

"It's perfectly normal for instructors to teach new recruits how to maintain firearms. Why would they kick someone just because they're teaching maintenance?"

Wei Long didn't reply, and lowered his head to continue assembling his M14.

With nimble fingers, the last part was put back in place.

He picked up the gun, glanced at the target in the distance through the scope, and then put it down.

"You guys chat, I'll go tidy up the shooting position!"

Wei Long left with his gun.

Red Wolf watched his retreating figure, the smile fading from his lips.

"That kid—"

He muttered something, but didn't finish.

Uluru didn't notice the change in Red Wolf's expression; his attention was entirely on the two people in the corner of the training field.

Mai Xiaowen had already released Zhang Zhao's hand, stepped back, and crossed her arms.

"Yes, that's it! Apply even pressure, from left to right, don't brush back and forth."

Zhang Zhao held the cleaning rod and, following her instructions, cleaned the gun barrel stroke by stroke.

The movements are still a bit clumsy, but much better than before.

Mai Xiaowen watched his technique and nodded slightly.

"The chamber is cleaned; next up is the gas block."

She turned around, picked up a small brush from the shelf, and handed it to Zhang Zhao.

"The carbon buildup inside the air guide ring must be thoroughly cleaned, otherwise it will affect the reliability of the automatic machine!"

Zhang Zhao took the brush and began cleaning the air guide ring.

This time, he got the hang of it much faster.

The theory was already in my mind, and the practical exercise just now had given me a feel for it, plus Mai Xiaowen's guidance.

Although the movements are still not smooth enough, at least they no longer get stuck like before.

Mai Xiaowen stood beside him, watching him clean, and suddenly spoke.

"You've really never handled a gun before?"

Zhang Zhao paused for a moment.

"No!"

"And your marksmanship—"

Mai Xiaowen paused, seemingly considering her words.

"How did you train to achieve that?"

Zhang Zhao paused for two seconds, then said somewhat uncertainly.

"Is it natural?"

Mai Xiaowen glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Zhang Zhao knew his answer was ridiculous, but he couldn't very well say that he had a cheat code, could he?

Fortunately, Mai Xiaowen did not ask any further questions.

She looked away, picked up a cleaning cloth from the worktable, and began wiping the disassembled parts.

"Everyone has their own secrets, and I'm not interested."

Her tone was flat, as if she were stating a fact.

"But now that you've reached GTI, there are some rules you have to follow."

Zhang Zhao looked up at her.

Mai Xiaowen was wiping the parts with her head down.

"The firearms must be maintained after each shooting range training session!"

Mai Xiaowen looked up at him.

"It's not that I'm making things difficult for you, but on the battlefield, your gun is your most reliable partner."

"You can't even take care of your own companion, so why should it help you kill?"

Zhang Zhao was stunned for a moment.

The words may be crude, but the principle is sound.

He nodded.

"I will learn."

Mai Xiaowen looked at him for two seconds, then looked away.

"Continue, show me the assembly after you're done cleaning."

Zhang Zhao lowered his head and continued cleaning the air guide ring.

......

The gunfire gradually subsided on the training field.

A thousand bullets is a considerable burden for most people.

Red Wolf fired his last hundred shots, put down his gun, and stretched his shoulders.

His target paper was riddled with bullet holes within the ten-ring circle, but several were clearly off-center.

Nine rings, and even an eight-ring ring.

"Tsk—"

Red Wolf looked at the eight-ring and shook his head.

"My hands were shaking during the last fifty shots!"

The situation at Uluru is even worse.

The recoil of the M250 general-purpose machine gun is much greater than that of an assault rifle; after firing a thousand rounds, his right shoulder was swollen all the way up.

But he was completely unaware of this, and at that moment he was looking at the target paper over and over again.

"Eight thousand three hundred rings!"

He grinned.

"Two hundred more rings than last time, that's good."

Luna was the first to finish the fight.

One thousand shots, nine thousand one hundred rings, all within nine rings, with seventy percent of them being ten rings.

Her marksmanship ranks second among this batch of reserve operators, second only to Dragon!

She was sitting on a bench behind the target position, legs outstretched, looking up at the ceiling.

With music playing in her headphones, she was completely immersed in her own world.

Wei Long walked back from the target position, carrying an M14, the gun gleaming.

He didn't look at his target paper, but went straight to the bench and sat down.

Luna took off one earphone and glanced at him.

How much do you have?

"Nine thousand four!"

Luna nodded and put her headphones back on.

Wei Long leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Nine thousand four hundred rings, another improvement!

He would have felt fortunate in the past, but now—

The image of Zhang Zhao's target paper flashed through my mind, with countless bullet holes inside the bullseye.

A thousand shots, ten thousand rings!

Wei Long opened his eyes and looked towards the corner of the training ground.

Zhang Zhao was still cleaning the guns, while Mai Xiaowen stood aside, occasionally offering a few pointers.

"interesting."

Wei Long said something in a low voice and closed his eyes again.

......

On the other side of the training field.

Several prospective agents huddled together, whispering amongst themselves.

One of the bald, burly men was named Coster, and he was the black man among this batch of prospective agents.

He was standing with his arms crossed, staring intently at the corner of the training field with a furrowed brow.

"Did you see that?" he asked in a low voice, his tone clearly showing displeasure.

The people nearby exchanged glances, but no one responded.

Koster didn't care and continued on his own.

"With such unparalleled marksmanship, how come you don't know how to maintain your firearms?"

He scoffed, "Who are you trying to fool?"

The young white man standing next to him shrugged.

"Maybe they really are a genius? Marksmanship relies on talent, and maintenance relies on experience—these aren't contradictory, are they?"

"conflict?"

Koster turned to look at him.

Do you know what "a thousand shots hitting the mark" means?

"This means his understanding of guns has reached a terrifying level!"

"Someone who understands guns this well wouldn't know how to maintain them? Do you believe that?"

The young white man opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Indeed, this logic doesn't hold water.

When Koster saw that he didn't speak, he raised his voice a few decibels.

"I think he's doing it on purpose! Taking advantage of Instructor Hacker Claw!"

Upon hearing this, the others immediately fell silent.

Koster seemed to realize that he had raised his voice.

But instead of restraining himself, he straightened his chest.

His companions instinctively moved half a step to the side; I'm not familiar with this idiot at all...