Pistol Match

On his first day in camp, a recruit challenged an officer to a shooting match!

The news was like tossing a high-explosive grenade into a pond, sending shockwaves through the entire Training Base.

The recruit had even collapsed from heatstroke during a run, while the officer was a captain-level professional training officer. The contrast caused an earthquake-like sensation throughout the base.

Whether soldiers or other officers, everyone was stunned upon hearing about the match, then could not help feeling sorry for the recruit.

"Who could he have offended but Captain Brant? I heard he once placed in the top three in army shooting competitions."

"Is that recruit insane?"

"He's probably given up on himself. He's about to embarrass himself beyond repair."

Regardless, it was a spectacle that troublemakers loved to see. Before five o'clock, nearly everyone at the Training Base headed toward the shooting range, hoping to witness the embarrassment of Soldier Kyle.

"Kyle, you were too impulsive." Steve sighed repeatedly. "You barely use guns, right? How could your shooting possibly compare to an officer who has spent years in the military? If you go apologize to Captain Brant now, maybe you can still..."

"Relax. After this match, no one here will look down on us anymore." Kyle remained utterly composed, showing not the slightest sign of nervousness.

That was because he had already drawn the Ability Card that would secure his victory in this match!

Training Base, open-field shooting range.

The spectator stands were already packed with soldiers in army-green uniforms and steel helmets. Quite a few officers in military uniforms had also come to watch the excitement.

Captain Brant had arrived early to test his gun, while the female agent still stood beside him with her file folder. When Steve led Kyle into the range, Captain Brant swept an arm toward the rows of firearms on the table. "Every American military rifle is here. Pick one yourself."

Kyle nodded, but instead of walking toward the table, he approached the female agent and smiled. "May I ask what gun Agent Carter uses? Could I borrow it for a moment?"

Agent Carter raised her head. Under the bright sunlight, her refined Western features, vivid red lips, and fair skin combined into a striking charm.

Only after leaving the officer's office had Kyle learned the female agent's name from Steve—Carter. She was even more beautiful and captivating than she had been in the movie.

"Of course. But are you sure you want to use it in the match?" Agent Carter spoke coolly as she took out the gun she carried with her. It was a sleek, black custom pistol.

"Soldier, are you joking? You want to use a pistol against my rifle?" Anger surfaced on Captain Brant's face.

Even at a fifty-meter target, how could a pistol's accuracy compare to a rifle's?

"Please lend it to me." Kyle took the custom pistol from Carter's hand with certainty. The delicate handgun seemed tailor-made for a woman, its craftsmanship far superior to the rifles on the table. Its body glinted with a cold sheen under the sunlight. There was no doubt that it was a firearm capable of killing.

"Good gun." Kyle praised it before starting to test the pistol in his hand.

"Three shots to decide the outcome. No need to waste the military's bullets on you." As Captain Brant spoke, he disengaged the safety on his rifle and stepped onto the firing platform.

"Three shots it is. Captain, please shoot first." Kyle smiled and even made a gentlemanly gesture of invitation.

"Young man raised in a greenhouse, let me show you what real marksmanship is."

Captain Brant moved swiftly, shouldering his rifle. After aiming for a few seconds, he fired three shots at the target fifty meters away.

After shooting, he stood up with satisfaction. Rifle shooting at a fifty-meter target was basic stuff, and with over twenty years of shooting experience in the military, it took no effort at all.

Soon, the trainer reported the target results. "Captain Brant. Fifty-meter target: two shots dead center, one shot in the inner ring. Total score: twenty-nine!"

Twenty-nine points, practically a perfect score!

The watching soldiers at the shooting range cried out in amazement. Captain Brant was pleased inside, but his expression remained stern as he shook his head. "I wasn't in my best condition. Otherwise, thirty points would have been easy."

"Not bad for Rifle Mastery." Kyle shrugged and walked toward the firing platform.

In his past life, he had lived in a peaceful era. Forget practicing with pistols—he had never even touched one. Yet now that he held a card related to Pistol Mastery, an unprecedented sense of familiarity welled up within him as soon as the gun entered his hand.

Looking at the distant target, Kyle's movements were not exactly fluid, but he still raised his arm. In less than half a second, he aimed and fired three shots in succession!

"He's putting on quite an act." Captain Brant shook his head. Fifty meters was already a long-distance target for a pistol, and hitting it was far more difficult than with a rifle.

To win, Kyle would need all three shots to hit the bullseye. For a raw recruit, that possibility was practically zero.

Sure enough, the trainer checked the fifty-meter target for quite a while before loudly reporting, "Soldier Kyle. Fifty-meter target: all three shots missed. Score: zero."

The shooting range fell silent, then the spectator stands erupted with laughter.

Captain Brant was also stunned. He had thought Kyle was so confident that even if he could not win, he would at least hit the target. He had not expected all three shots to miss.

"A farce, an absolute farce. Kyle, hurry up, pack your things, and get out." Captain Brant shook his head mockingly, but Kyle, still standing on the firing platform, suddenly shouted, "Trainer, please check the one-hundred-meter target."

"The hundred-meter target? What else are you trying to do? Haven't you made enough of a joke already?!" Captain Brant finally lost his patience. Holding his rifle, he stepped forward, his face turning livid with rage as the muzzle nearly pressed against Kyle's head. "Believe me, I'll blow your head off with one shot!"

Kyle calmly said, "Before you shoot me, could you wait for the trainer to report the hundred-meter target results?"

"Are you insane? Do you really want me to shoot you?!" Captain Brant roared. Just then, the hurried voice of the trainer rang out from a hundred meters away:

"R-Report! Soldier Kyle, one-hundred-meter target: all three shots hit the bullseye! Thirty points!"

A hundred-meter target, all three shots dead center!

The shooting range, which had been full of laughter moments ago, fell silent once more. The soldiers and even the officers outside the range wore expressions of utter disbelief.

Captain Brant looked even more incredulous. He asked the trainer again, and only after the trainer confirmed it did he blankly lower the rifle in his hands.

"That means I won this match. Captain, I'll be staying at the base to continue my training." Kyle secretly let out a breath of relief. Having someone nearly point a gun at his head was no joke.

Still, he had won in the end. A close call without real danger was enough.

Without waiting for Captain Brant's response, Kyle walked straight off the firing platform and headed toward Agent Carter, returning the custom pistol in his hand.

Carter looked at him in surprise and said with feeling, "I never expected you to achieve that with a pistol."

"With this custom pistol's range, you could do the same, couldn't you?" Kyle replied with a smile.

"How did you know?" Carter could not help asking.

"A guess. But today, you were my goddess of victory. If I get the chance next time, I'll definitely thank you properly." After saying that, Kyle turned and left the shooting range, leaving Carter standing there in confusion and Captain Brant in a daze.

Outside the shooting range, Steve saw Kyle emerge and immediately ran over to give him a hug. "Kyle, you scared me to death!"

"Come on, don't be so gay about it. I'm straight." Kyle said that, but after the hug, he still draped an arm over Steve's thin shoulders.

"I never knew your shooting was this good. You have to teach me sometime." Steve said happily.

"Of course. You and me, we're brothers. Let's go eat."

The two walked toward the cafeteria with their arms around each other's shoulders. As the onlookers watched them leave, someone in the shooting range stands started it, and thunderous applause soon broke out.

The recruits from their dormitory, who had mocked and ridiculed them before, lowered their heads in shame.

A pistol at a hundred-meter target versus a rifle at a fifty-meter target—an overwhelming victory! Such sharpshooting skill deserved the applause and respect of everyone in the military camp.

"The army food is nutritious enough, but it still tastes awful." After eating, Kyle returned to the barracks dormitory to rest. Following his astonishing bet, the attitudes of the recruits in his dormitory had made a complete one-hundred-eighty-degree turn.

As Steve put it, those who had once ignored them now practically wanted to stick to them and beg to be friends, while those who had bullied and mocked them before now kept their tails tucked between their legs.

That was the intimidation of strength and talent.

Having experienced the convenience and benefits of drawing cards, Kyle grew even more enamored with the feeling of constantly enriching and strengthening himself.

There were nearly twenty people in one dormitory. Like a dry sponge, he began continuously drawing all sorts of nearby Ability Cards, taking whatever came his way.

However, these soldiers were all young recruits. Even if they possessed cards, most were limited to White Cards, with very few Green Cards. Among the Green Cards, even fewer had practical value.

Agent Carter was still the best. She had more than twenty Green Cards. When would he be able to draw them all?

As Kyle lay against his bed and pondered after finishing his collection, Steve suddenly leaned over from his bed and asked curiously, "Kyle, what are you thinking about?"

Still lost in thought, Kyle blurted out, "I'm thinking about Agent Carter."

"Ah, Agent Carter." The moment Steve heard that name, his face stiffened.

"You like Agent Carter, don't you?" Kyle secretly laughed and comforted him. "Don't worry. I won't steal the woman you have your eye on."

"You really are..." A touched expression appeared on Steve's face, but it quickly turned into dejection. "Forget it. A woman like her is out of my league."

"Never underestimate yourself, Steve. You need to believe in your own talent and future." Kyle patted Steve on the shoulder and encouraged him with the fervor of a motivational speech. "If you want to pursue that woman, hold on to your willpower and drive. Dig out your potential. I don't want to be without you by my side on the battlefield in the future."

After all, you were Captain America! In this World War II era of Marvel, you were obviously the protagonist.

"Thank you, Kyle." Steve nodded firmly before climbing down from the bed.

Go ahead and work hard to become stronger. Even so, with my card-drawing ability, I'll always be ahead of you.

Kyle watched Steve leave, his thoughts returning to the Ability Cards he had collected.

Setting aside the more than one hundred White Ability Cards covering all kinds of fields, he currently possessed only five Green Cards.

Rifle Mastery

English Mastery

Military Boxing and Combat Mastery

Psychology Mastery

True Pistol Mastery

Among them, True Pistol Mastery shone far more brilliantly than the other four Green Cards.

True Pistol Mastery: Master near-perfect pistol techniques. Green rare Ability Card.

This was the highest-value Ability Card Kyle had drawn from Carter. With this rare card, he had been able to easily defeat the officer with Rifle Mastery.

Otherwise, if both of them had mastered Rifle Mastery, Kyle's gamble with the captain would have been an even match.

Green rare cards > Green Cards > White Cards.

Green Ability Cards are harder to encounter than White Cards, and both the drawing distance and time requirements are much higher.

There's no need to go to the battlefield yet, and the other Green Cards aren't very useful. What I need most right now is a Green Ability Card that can strengthen my physique!

Kyle pondered to himself. His original body's physical condition was terrible; otherwise, he would not have collapsed from heatstroke on his first day. To adapt to the military camp's high-intensity training, he needed to change his physique.

Directly drawing abilities related to physical fitness from others, such as the Military Boxing and Combat Mastery Green Card, the Running Specialty White Card, and the Swimming Specialty White Card, could indirectly improve his own physique once he possessed them.

Unfortunately, White Ability Cards provided only minor boosts. Only Green Ability Cards gave noticeable improvements to physical fitness.

Tomorrow, I'll continue searching for Ability Cards. I'll focus on Green Ability Cards related to physical fitness.

Kyle's eyes gleamed green. Every talented person in the military Training Base was prey for him to hunt!