Zzt!
Zzt!
The monotonous, piercing sound of las-fire echoed over the shooting range.
Rod held down the trigger.
The barrel of the lasrifle in his hands had already turned dark red.
But he did not stop.
On his retina, the translucent experience bar that only he could see was jumping wildly.
Only when the final click sounded did the power cell run dry again.
[Lasrifle Shooting LV7]
[Current Experience: 1/900]
[Special Effect Unlocked: Overload Shot (Active).
Greatly increases rate of fire and penetration for a short time at the cost of barrel lifespan.]
“Haa…”
Rod let out a long breath.
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the spent power cell flying.
It struck the gravel with a sharp clack.
He raised his sleeve and wiped the sweat from his face.
Then he turned around.
The strange man calling himself Silas was still standing there.
Only those eyes, sunken deep in shadow, were watching Rod’s still-smoking rifle with great interest.
“How do we bet?”
Rod rested the scalding lasgun on his shoulder.
After leveling up, his confidence was fully charged.
Silas did not answer immediately.
His withered fingers lightly tapped twice on the worn little box.
“Shooting targets is too boring.”
He turned and waved at a servitor in the distance that was cleaning up shell casings.
The servitor, with only half a body and moving on tracks, immediately creaked over like an obedient old dog.
Silas pointed at a pile of discarded mechanical parts nearby.
They were gears, rivets, and twisted iron plates blown off some unlucky Chimera.
“Have this iron lump throw that trash into the air.”
“No limit on height or angle.
Whoever shatters more before they hit the ground wins.”
After saying that, he glanced at Rod.
“How about it?
You should be familiar enough with that rifle by now.”
Dynamic shooting?
Rod raised an eyebrow.
That was much harder than shooting fixed targets.
But when he glanced at the [Overload Shot] effect he had just unlocked, he could not help feeling delighted.
This was practically a free win.
“Sure.”
Rod leveled the lasgun that was still cooling.
“Let’s start.”
The commotion here had clearly drawn the attention of those nearby.
A few veterans who had originally been smoking cheap lho-sticks in the corner, bragging and talking nonsense, heard the conversation and immediately gathered like cats smelling fish.
On this boring front line, life was either fighting or sleeping.
Having some entertainment to watch was more exciting than payday.
A dozen people formed a semicircle.
Some folded their arms, some still had cigarettes between their lips, and a few even took several dirty copper coins from their pockets.
“I bet the recruit loses.
Look how red that barrel is.
How can it still shoot accurately?”
“Tch, I’m betting on the recruit.
That kid’s called Rod, I think.
Heard he’s freakishly good.”
The noise of the crowd did not affect the two men in the center.
Silas nodded to the servitor.
“Begin.”
Buzz!
The servitor’s rusty mechanical arm suddenly swung.
A large handful of scrap parts of different sizes and shapes flew into the air like exploding fireworks, rising twenty meters high.
Almost at the same instant…
Silas moved.
He did not raise the absurdly large sniper rifle on his back.
Instead, he drew a compact laspistol from his waist.
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
Three extremely precise shots.
Three nuts at the highest point exploded into iron powder in midair.
Rod was half a beat slower.
But he did not panic.
Since this is a contest of quantity…
Rod took a deep breath, his pupils contracting slightly.
[Overload Shot], activate!
The lasrifle in his hands let out a low hum, and the originally red las-beams instantly turned into dazzling white light.
Zzzzzzzzt!!!
Rod’s shooting was nothing less than a metal storm.
He did not aim at any specific part at all.
He directly sealed off every possible falling path of those parts.
White beams wove a tight net through the air.
The gears, iron plates, and rivets still falling from above seemed to crash into an invisible wall.
They were instantly vaporized, melted apart, and shattered by high heat.
A dense chain of explosions rang out in midair like a string of firecrackers.
Sparks scattered everywhere.
The veterans watching around them instinctively shrank their necks back.
“Holy shit…”
“Is he using a rifle like a heavy stubber?”
Two seconds later.
The gunfire stopped.
The rifle in Rod’s hands billowed black smoke, and a burnt smell rushed out.
That was the scent of internal circuits burning out.
But the rifle had already fulfilled its mission.
On the ground, aside from a few tiny fragments that had been too small to hit in the first place, there was not a single complete part left.
As for Silas, after those first three precise shots, he had never even gotten the chance to fire again.
The winner was clear.
Even people who knew nothing about marksmanship could see it.
This was not the same level of firepower output.
The crowd was silent for one second.
Then a burst of cheers exploded.
“Beautiful!”
“That hand speed!
Did you train it by being single for twenty years?
Hahahaha!”
“I think this recruit can report straight to the Kasrkin!”
Rod tossed the completely ruined rifle onto the ground.
Although his face showed no expression, his heart felt incredibly satisfied.
This was the value of LV7.
He turned to look at Silas, thinking the man would at least be a little embarrassed even if he was not angry.
But he was wrong.
There was no trace of irritation on Silas’s face.
On the contrary, he looked at the metal powder still drifting through the air, and there was a hint of…
appreciation in his eyes?
“So this is humanity’s unpredictability?”
He muttered softly.
Then he very readily unfastened the worn little box from his belt.
“You win.”
Silas walked up to Rod and handed the box over.
The instant Rod reached out to take it, Silas suddenly lowered his voice, and the face hidden beneath the hood moved a little closer.
“The box is yours, but…
the book and the cane are part of my collection.”
Before Rod could react, Silas’s finger lightly swiped across the surface of the box.
The long cane and the thick book appeared in his hands out of thin air, as if pulled by some invisible force.
“Enjoy using it, little one.”
He left those words behind and even winked at Rod.
Then he slipped into the noisy crowd like a slick loach.
“Huh?
Wait…”
Rod grabbed the now-empty box and tried to call him back, only to find that the figure had already vanished.
As if he had never appeared at all.
“Impressive, brother!”
A large hand slapped heavily onto Rod’s shoulder, nearly making him stumble.
It was a bearded man built like a bear.
“That burst just now was damn satisfying!
You turned those iron bits into slag!”
“Exactly!
That marksmanship is ridiculous.
I think even those Ratlings stacked up in a trench wouldn’t be taller than you!”
Another man joined in the teasing.
“Who was that guy just now?
Which squad is he from?
I’ve never seen him before.”
“Yeah, that skinny ghost-looking guy.
His shooting wasn’t bad either.
Even though he lost to you, those first three shots…
Tsk, tsk.
So fast I only saw a blur.”
Someone scratched his scalp with a confused expression.
“When did our company get someone like that?
I know all those arrogant bastards from the sniper squad.
He’s not one of them.”
“Hey, what was that skinny guy’s name again?”
Everyone looked at Rod.
“He said his name was Silas.”
Rod answered casually while tucking the box into his clothes.
“Sixth Recon Company.”
“Silas?”
“Sixth…
Recon Company?”
The circle of veterans looked at one another.
“Bullshit, right?” The bearded soldier frowned.
“Our regiment’s Sixth Company is an armored logistics company.
They drive trucks.
Where the hell would they get a recon squad?
Sixth Recon Company…
What does he think this is, an Astartes Chapter organization?”
“Exactly.
Never heard the name.
Probably some old veteran who didn’t want to reveal his identity messing with you.”
The crowd discussed it for a while, but soon the topic returned to Rod’s almost supernatural marksmanship.
…
At the darkest corner at the very edge of the shooting range…
There was clearly someone standing there, yet the guards passing by seemed completely unable to see him.
They walked right past without even letting their eyes linger.
Silas…
Or rather, Trazyn, stood there quietly.
His holographic disguise peeled away from him like ripples across water.
The ragged cloak vanished, replaced by an ancient metallic Necron body.
If Rod had been here, his jaw would have dropped on the spot, and he would have shouted out that nickname.
The Collector King!
But the hundreds of mortals on the shooting range knew nothing of this.
Trazyn’s green eyes flickered slightly.
“An interesting specimen.”
The voice that had been disguised as human now filled with a metallic texture.
“In only a few minutes, muscle memory and reaction speed increased by 300%…
This rate of improvement does not resemble genetic modification, nor does it resemble psychic enhancement.”
“Worth observing for a while longer.”
In his inorganic eyes, a complex multidimensional coordinate system appeared.
At the center of that coordinate system, the red dot representing Rod was blinking faintly.
It had been marked with the label:
[Pending Collection]