Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1605

Chapter 1605: Chapter 771:

The shooting hall was brightly lit, and the exhaust fan emitted a low hum overhead.

Fang Cheng held the gun with one hand, his feet naturally spread apart.

The intercom device on the console transmitted the safety officer’s command:

“Position one ready, you may begin live ammunition shooting.”

The electronic timer emitted a short beep:

“Beep——”

The first human target suddenly moved swiftly to the left along the rail.

Fang Cheng’s gaze intensified, and he immediately pulled the trigger.

“Bang!”

The muzzle spouted orange-yellow flame, the enormous recoil transmitted to his forearm through his wrist without causing any tremble in his arm.

The bullet hit the bullseye, and the human target collapsed with a thud.

Following that, more targets moved erratically along the tracks ahead, rapidly shuttling back and forth between fifty and one hundred meters.

Shooting a 100-meter moving target with a handgun involved severe bullet drop and hard-to-control consecutive recoil.

Even an expert found it challenging to aim at the torso, let alone consistently hitting multiple bullseyes.

Fang Cheng did not utilize the “Eagle Eye Vision” skill effect.

He solely relied on his extraordinary spiritual perception and absolute control power over his muscles to capture the trajectory of the moving targets.

“Bang! Bang! Bang…”

The gunshots instantly merged into a series of brief bursts.

Fang Cheng’s body subtly adjusted as the targets moved, his steps were exceptionally agile, and his wrist was steady as a rock.

The firing interval of each bullet was almost consistent.

Like a precision shooting machine, he continuously harvested the targets within his field of view.

After ten seconds, the gunshots ceased, and the slide locked back on the empty chamber.

The air was filled with the lingering scent of gunpowder.

The overhead electronic display showed the training score:

15 bullets, 100-meter moving targets, all ten rings.

“Amazing!”

Brother Hu stood behind the bulletproof glass, swallowing hard and hastily giving a thumbs up:

“Mr. Fang, your gun skill is divine! These are irregular moving targets, and I’ve been in this place for so long, never seen anyone shoot as accurately as you do.”

Fang Cheng pressed the magazine release button and ejected the empty magazine:

“Not bad, haven’t lost the feel completely.”

Brother Hu handed over a clean towel to wipe his hands, grinning widely:

“You’re too modest; with your accuracy, winning a world championship would be a breeze.”

“That kid Ma Donghe always bragged about his gun skill before, but compared to you, he’s basically holding a stick for stoking the fire.”

Despite the flattering tone, his words were somewhat truthful.

Fang Cheng smiled faintly and accepted the praise.

While the two were talking, he suddenly noticed a man who had somehow appeared at the adjacent number two target position.

The man was wearing a casual shirt, with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing healthy wheat-colored skin.

He looked quite genteel, with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and was leisurely putting on noise-cancelling headphones.

The man held a distinctively silver handgun in his hand.

He turned sideways, his feet casually split apart, not adopting the standard isosceles shooting position.

Instead, with one hand in his pocket, he raised his gun-holding right arm, aiming at the moving target ahead.

“Desert Eagle .357 Magnum version, with a significantly large bullet load.”

Brother Hu followed Fang Cheng’s gaze over and muttered softly:

“This guy is probably some rich kid looking for excitement again. Look at that amateur stance, daring to shoot the Desert Eagle moving target single-handedly?”

“The recoil of that gun is massive; it might dislocate his wrist, definitely just here to show off. It’ll be fun watching him soon.”

Fang Cheng listened to Brother Hu’s complaints quietly, without speaking, watching intently.

“Bang! Bang! Bang…”

With the command, gunshots erupted consecutively from the adjacent number two target position.

The man’s shooting rhythm carried a pleasing rhythm.

The massive recoil from the large caliber bullets caused the muzzle to jump upward repeatedly, yet the man’s wrist acted like a precise hydraulic shock absorber.

Each time it jumped upwards, the gun barrel instantly stabilized back to its original aim line without deviation.

Ten bullets emptied within a few seconds.

The brass casings thrown into the air formed neat arcs, almost forming a continuous string.

Behind the bulletproof glass, Brother Hu’s mouth opened wide, and his facial muscles were completely rigid.

He was waiting to see the joke of someone dislocating their wrist, yet now it felt like he’d been smacked, his cheeks slightly reddening.

Click.

The gunshots abruptly stopped, and the slide locked back on the empty chamber.

The electronic display refreshed with the score:

Nine ten rings, one shot missed.

Seeing this, Brother Hu exhaled lightly, chuckling:

“I told you, this guy that appeared from nowhere, even if he shot accurately before, it was just luck.”

“The last shot flew straight off, obviously because the recoil was too much, and his grip couldn’t hold up.”

His words sounded as though he had foresight.

Yet inside, he felt relief that his own big shot’s reputation remained unchallenged.

However, Fang Cheng squinted his eyes slightly, a sharp glint flashing in his deep eyes.

In that instant, with dynamic vision and keen perception far beyond ordinary, he clearly captured the trajectory of the last bullet.

The man’s last two shots had an unbelievably short firing interval.

Almost as the previous bullet had just left the muzzle, the trigger was pulled again.

The two bullets were linked in the air, one behind the other, penetrating the bullseye of the last human target.

The impact points completely overlapped without the slightest deviation.

With speed too fast, under the high-speed camera lens, the two bullets only revealed a single trajectory.