First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 121
Chapter 121: Revenge
Before the complete second round began, everyone's scores were displayed on two walls.
As the data appeared, the students instinctively looked toward the walls while the instructor urged them to quickly rotate positions.
"Thirty seconds! Remove helmets, switch helmets, change positions, raise guns." The instructor monitored the surveillance feeds on his optical computer and shouted: "Those who haven't found their positions yet will be scored by the second! Don't wait for instructors to arrange everything for you—figure it out yourselves!"
The students stopped delaying. The even-numbered group exited the shooting area from the right side while the odd-numbered group entered from the left. They took turns selecting positions and raising their guns in preparation.
The instructor paced near the starting line: "I know you all love to dawdle. Keep dawdling—I don't mind! One second equals one kilometer. The choice is entirely yours."
"Instructors are very open-minded. Even if we kick your asses, you won't listen, so we can only make you run." The instructor glanced at the time. "You—start running!"
The pointed male student panicked and rushed past the starting line, accidentally stepping on the red line. He yelped, steadied himself, and kept running.
The instructor randomly pointed again: "You, you—line up behind and follow in order! Watch for the light prompts."
Lian Sheng raised her arm and took the opportunity to check her uniform—she had been hit three times in the previous round.
Being shot didn't cause any sensation, but a red light would flash on the chest area. She had sprinted as hard as she could, and the target areas weren't large. However, the shooters fired rapidly, and the red lines were crooked, forcing them to constantly watch their footing while twisting their bodies to avoid exposing the obvious target zones.
Maintaining maximum tension without achieving actual high speed was harder than she'd expected. Getting hit seemed unavoidable.
If she took four hits per round, she might break double digits by the later stages.
The shooting group's male students finally had time to look at the walls.
The wall facing him displayed the even-numbered group's scores. Listed from top to bottom were four columns: name, hits taken, shots fired, and other.
Fang Jianchen's name hung conspicuously at the very bottom of the list. Combined with his standout double-digit score, it immediately caught everyone's attention.
One male student, holding his gun, exclaimed in shock: "Holy shit, who's that at the bottom? Fang Jianchen? Thirty-four shots? Wasn't this just the first round?"
The others were stunned: "What?"
"Thirty-four hits out of fifty in one round! That's insane!"
The student was still looking up when someone suddenly ran through his field of vision.
He didn't react immediately, completely breaking out of combat mode. His eyes darted between the wall and the figure before he panicked and raised his gun to aim again.
But it was too late—his shot went wide as the target left the shooting zone.
The instructor randomly pointed at students at the starting line, making them run out one after another.
He looked down to add notes, amused: "Distracted—No. 43, minus one point! Affecting classmates' performance, additional two-point deduction."
No. 43: "..."
Fang Jianchen sighed: "The world is so harsh toward passionate people."
The even-numbered group burst into laughter, slapping Fang Jianchen's shoulders: "Well done!"
"Well done my ass!"
The male students waiting for their turn to run crowded near the starting area, pointing at the opposite wall: "That Lian Sheng... didn't she hit thirty-six too? She's in the odd-numbered group! Friends, revenge time!"
Lian Sheng's thirty-six included shots from the ongoing second round. Her first-round score should have been around twenty-seven.
Everyone scanned the list more carefully. Aside from Fang Jianchen and Lian Sheng's standout performances, a few other students had also reached double-digit hits—just not as terrifyingly high.
The students didn't know what past scores looked like, but this hit rate was clearly above average.
"How were people selected? Why are there so many snipers?"
"Am I the only one who thinks the data's wrong? Instructors cheating is going too far!"
"Can hits be deducted? Otherwise, this is unplayable."
"How are we supposed to keep going? This is just the first round! Just tell us how many kilometers we're running today."
"Might as well make us all do weighted runs from the start!"
The instructor nodded approvingly: "This batch of shooters is indeed good. Keep it up."
He glanced sideways and added: "You at the starting line—you've already lost three points. Now it's four."
The male student looked down and screamed: "Ah—!" before belatedly sprinting out with a roar.
"This miserable life—!" he yelled. "Give us a break, Instructor!"
In sprint training like this, muscles would give out before stamina ran out.
Breathing could be controlled, but if muscles couldn't be mobilized, explosive power wouldn't manifest. Any drop in speed would cause hit rates to skyrocket.
Thus, the early challenges were manageable, but deductions would only get worse later.
If this deduction pace continued for ten rounds...
"Oh dear." The instructor crossed his arms, nodding repeatedly. "Keep it up. Excellent."
Soon, it was time for another offense-defense switch.
The exercise wasn't physically demanding, but the rapid pace created intense pressure.
The odd-numbered team emerged from the shooting platform, negotiating: "Brother Fang Jianchen, can you not? Let's aim for mutual benefit. Everyone holds back—happy us, happy you."
They didn't know which one was Fang Jianchen. The black uniforms had hoods covering most faces, making identification difficult even if they'd met before. They could only shout.
Fang Jianchen snorted: "Every shot I fire is revenge for myself. What mutual benefit?"
A male student passing by turned back: "Don't push us! We can go berserk too!"
Fang Jianchen retorted angrily: "Aren't you ashamed saying that?! Weren't you firing like crazy earlier? No self-awareness?!"
After just two rounds, his deductions had already surpassed seven.
This proved once again that in group dynamics like this, people wouldn't choose what benefited the collective most but what benefited themselves most.
Seeing others suffer together was the most beneficial individual choice.
Moreover, these students knew that no matter how much others complained, they'd still do the same. They'd deliberately make training harder for others but never go easy just to scrape by. Otherwise, coming to this base would be meaningless.
These trainees came from different military academies and were now in different groups, inherently creating competition. Since it was competition, the goal was excellence, not regression. Pain was the stepping stone to improvement.
They didn't know whether to feel relieved that Lian Sheng and Fang Jianchen weren't in the same group. Otherwise, they'd have revolted and reported it.
The instructor hadn't expected two such skilled snipers either. Achieving these scores meant they were far beyond ordinary military students—the data made that obvious.
Then again, Fang Jianchen had been recommended. Ah... that instructor was so shrewd!
The students gradually got into the rhythm, and the offense-defense drills passed the halfway mark.
By now, Lian Sheng had accumulated twenty-six negative points. During the fifth escape round, she'd taken six hits at once.
She could feel her sprint speed dropping while the opposing firepower intensified. The later it got, the better the attack opportunities became.
It was time to change tactics, or things would only worsen.
She touched her ear as the starting line beneath her feet lit up. Lian Sheng immediately leaped out with one foot.
Except for the straight, open red line at the start, the middle section twisted unpredictably. Running along it at high speed forced the body to extend limbs for balance, effectively presenting targets to the enemy.
Speed alone couldn't guarantee evasion—she had to rely on movement adjustments.
Fang Jianchen was focused. But targets appeared randomly, forcing him to maintain firing posture. Slow, prolonged blinking strained his eyes. Suddenly, a student darting around like a monkey entered his view.
Fang Jianchen paused, then raised his gun and laughed: "Twisting into a pretzel, I still know it's you!"
Among the hundred participants, Lian Sheng was the only girl. Though flat-chested, she stood out as particularly short.
Her constant angle and posture adjustments made her slower than others.
Fang Jianchen fired confidently, but she sidestepped just then. He uttered a puzzled "Huh?"
He was certain he'd hit, but perhaps grazes didn't count as fatal—no red light flashed.
She deliberately hunched her shoulders, using arms to shield leg targets while her arched back protected her chest.
Occasional large jumps avoided unstable red-line zones. Her movements were contorted and unpredictable.
This made her easy to spot but hard to target. Fang Jianchen hesitated, watching helplessly as she escaped.
That she didn't fall despite such motions proved her exceptional balance.
The crowd roared with laughter:
"What the hell is this? Ritual dancing during training?"
"You can tell who it is just by looking, hahaha!"
"Poor Lian Sheng—you can't stand out! Make enemies, and you're done for!"
"Pew pew pew!"
"Comrades, the time for revenge has come!"
Lian Sheng found this unfair. Fang Jianchen should've drawn the most ire, yet she'd become the easiest to identify.
Far from showing mercy, recognizing her only made them fiercer.
Being single wasn't without reason.
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Our poor general 🤣🤣
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