"At a distance of fifty meters, I think I can empty all five magazines on me!"
Like a newborn calf unafraid of tigers, Wesley was extremely confident.
"If you can empty even one magazine, I'll consider your training during this period exceptionally effective—far beyond expectations."
Carlos sighed and said no more. He focused and entered Assassin Bloodline mode.
Words were useless. Broken bones were the best lesson. Only by letting Wesley experience that despairing reality could he truly come to respect Zhou Yi—and... understand exactly what level he himself was at.
That was why Carlos had agreed to this bet.
Wesley had improved quickly, but compared to Assassin Masters like them, he was only at that level for now.
Carlos had not even taught him Curved Shot or extreme-range sniping yet, and he had already noticed Wesley getting a little carried away.
Still, that was perfectly normal. In the prime of youth, if a young man never got carried away and remained steady all the way through, could he still be called young?
Handling matters without batting an eye, maintaining a composed mindset that never collapsed, keeping everything in perfect order—reaching that point required the tempering of time.
That was why there were sayings like "at thirty, one stands firm" and "a beardless man can't be trusted with serious matters."
Who had not gone through their cringeworthy teenage phase?
So, as an old father, Carlos understood Wesley's current state very well, and he also knew what to do.
Lecturing was useless—or rather, it had very little effect.
It was like everyone's elementary, middle school, and high school student days. Who did not know that studying was useful and could bring enormous benefits to their future?
No matter how many times they heard such words from family, relatives, teachers... no matter