Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1604

Chapter 1604: Chapter 770:

As soon as Fang Cheng stepped out of the elevator, he saw a broad-shouldered, heavily built man sitting behind the service desk ahead.

The man was bowing his head, counting several boxes of large-caliber bullets. Hearing movement, he looked up.

Their eyes collided in midair.

“You… you…”

The burly man shot to his feet, the ammo box in his hand almost slipping to the floor.

His eyes bulged round, his mouth hung open, but for a long moment he couldn’t form a complete sentence.

This was the person in charge of the shooting range, Brother Hu.

Fang Cheng walked over and joked casually:

“What’s wrong, Brother Hu, it’s only been half a year and you don’t recognize me?”

Brother Hu snapped back to his senses. The shock on his face quickly turned into enthusiasm, and his back unconsciously bent a little:

“Mr. Fang, listen to you. How could I possibly not recognize you?”

“Last time you came to our range, that gun skill of yours—I’ll remember it for the rest of my life! I was just too stunned. How come you’ve got time to drop by today?”

Fang Cheng swept a glance at the other customers in the lobby and said calmly:

“I happened to come over here to discuss some business, so I figured I’d swing by the range and get some practice in.”

“So that’s how it is. Then you’ve picked the right day—our place just brought in a batch of new guns, they kick like mules.”

Brother Hu kept a smiling face, his tone respectful.

After what happened last year when Fang Cheng came to the range to buy guns, he’d deduced from the attitude shown by the higher-ups that this young man before him was definitely a big shot with an extraordinary background.

Even the Chairman of the East City Association wanted to win him over and curry favor, so as a low-ranking small boss, he naturally didn’t dare slack off in the slightest.

As they spoke, he glanced behind Fang Cheng and asked:

“Didn’t Ma Donghe come along with you today?”

Fang Cheng answered offhandedly:

“He passed the exam and landed a civil service job a while back. He’s pretty busy now.”

Hearing that, Brother Hu couldn’t help sighing with feeling:

“Well that’s great. These days having a proper iron rice bowl beats anything else.”

“Mr. Fang, what do you feel like playing with today? The range was just renovated recently, I’ll show you around!”

After the brief pleasantries, Brother Hu immediately volunteered himself as Fang Cheng’s guide.

Fang Cheng didn’t refuse. He took out a card as his membership card and handed it over.

When Brother Hu got a clear look at the gold-edged black card, his eyes went blank for a second, and his tongue even started to trip:

“This… this is the Chairman’s Ultimate Black Card?!”

“Mr. Fang, what you’ve got there is the resort’s top-tier black card. You don’t need to wait in line or register at the front desk, I’ll take you straight to the VIP-exclusive gun vault.”

With that, he hurriedly returned the black card with both hands and turned around to lead the way.

At the same time, his back bent even lower and the smile on his face became all the more attentive, looking like he’d worship the man on the spot if he could.

Passing through two heavy soundproof doors, Brother Hu swiped his employee card to open an independent storeroom.

On the alloy racks mounted to the walls, all kinds of firearms were neatly lined up.

From common Glocks and Berettas to large-caliber Desert Eagles, and even military assault rifles fitted with holographic sights—everything was there.

Boxes of golden bullets were stacked in the temperature-controlled cabinets.

“Mr. Fang, all the guns here have just been serviced. We’ve got people oiling and zeroing them every day. Feel free to pick whatever you like.”

Fang Cheng swept his gaze over them, then casually took down a black SIG P226 pistol and grabbed a few spare magazines.

Then he racked the slide, checking the rifling in the barrel.

The crisp sound of metal on metal echoed through the room.

“This one will do. Set me up with the highest-difficulty moving target lane.”

“You got it. This way, please.”

Brother Hu agreed repeatedly and led Fang Cheng to the innermost shooting hall.

The space here was huge. More than ten independent hundred-meter lanes were separated by bulletproof glass.

The ventilation system was humming, constantly drawing out the lingering gunpowder smoke from the air.

Fang Cheng walked up to Lane One.

He didn’t put on safety glasses or noise-cancelling earmuffs; he simply started pressing bullets into the magazine one by one.

At first his fingers had a slight awkwardness as they touched the metal casings.

But with the click of the magazine locking into the gun, long-dormant muscle memory was instantly awakened.