Where Did This Sniper Come From?

The next day, An Yang was sleeping groggily when he suddenly smelled a strongly irritating odor and began coughing violently. The grueling training had begun.

Obstacle courses, climbing net walls, crawling beneath barbed wire, scaling steel frames—countless drills followed. Before long, sweat had soaked through their clothes, followed by severe physical exhaustion.

Thanks to his formidable physical attributes, An Yang finished many of the drills faster than anyone else. But as time went on, he could no longer keep up. No matter how comprehensive Military Literacy Mastery was, it was ultimately just a cheat. He had never undergone this kind of training before, and his body simply was not used to exerting itself this way. In this respect, he was far inferior to these genuine special forces soldiers.

By the time they reached the zipline and combat zone crossing, An Yang's expression had turned solemn. This was the so-called Road of Devils. He knew that the bullets and shells here were all real, completely simulating a battlefield. If he got unlucky and was hit, he would have no choice but to start over.

Basic Military Literacy Mastery included bullet-dodging techniques, but he always felt that luck played a bigger role in that sort of thing.

Cannons roared across the course, flames soaring into the sky amid clouds of dust. Heavy machine gun rounds whistled through the air. Though there were no clashing blades or charging warhorses, the scent of battle was even stronger than in ancient times.

When it was the second group's turn, An Yang rushed out first without hesitation. He grabbed the zipline and slid down the cable, then plunged into the murky river before pressing forward without stopping.

They had to fire their weapons while advancing. This was when Intermediate Firearms Mastery began to show its power. Over a distance of several dozen meters, he could hit the targets with ease, even more formidable than the two Chinese special forces soldiers blessed with protagonist halos.

After the training session, just as expected, Crocodile Instructor lowered his binoculars and said to the record keeper beside him:

"Second group. Chinese trainees Number Five, Number Six, and Number Seven take first place."

The training did not stop. On the contrary, the truly exhausting parts came afterward, including dangerous rock-climbing drills and energy-draining sand crawls. Many special forces soldiers were so exhausted that they nearly collapsed.

An Yang secretly congratulated himself for putting some of his physical attribute points into constitution. Otherwise, with only speed and strength and little constitution bonus, he probably would not even be able to stand by now.

Some parts of the original plot could not be changed. Hu Xiaolong had difficulty moving because his boots were too large, while Yang Hui stayed with him and fell behind. An Yang kept pace beside them as well, sharing their advance and retreat.

The three of them ended up among the last five. Not only did they lose the right to eat, but they also had to run five kilometers along the beach. On the spot, two special forces soldiers quit in protest.

Just like in the original plot, Hu Xiaolong tried to explain and defend An Yang and Yang Hui, but his words were rejected.

Foreign special forces soldier Number Forty-One went to ring the black bell that symbolized shame and surrender. An Yang patted Yang Hui and Hu Xiaolong on the shoulders. "Stop looking. Let's go see what the South American sea looks like."

When they returned, ceremonial music began to play, and a national flag was slowly lowered. Only then did the special forces soldiers who had chosen to quit realize the weight of honor. Clutching the flag, they wept loudly.

Yang Hui's protagonist syndrome flared up again. Deeply moved, he said earnestly to An Yang and Hu Xiaolong, "An Yang, Xiaolong, for the sake of our national flag, we must strive on."

That night brought another brutal physical challenge. Everyone had to stand atop a wall more than two meters high while high-pressure water cannons blasted them. The special forces soldiers had to remain standing through sheer strength. Anyone washed off was bound to get hurt.

An Yang was stronger. Standing between Yang Hui and Hu Xiaolong, whenever they were about to fall, he gritted his teeth and grabbed hold of them.

After an entire day, his muscles ached to the extreme, and his feet had turned pale from being soaked in water. Especially after such grueling training, he had not even gotten a corn cake that night. His stomach was growling, and he felt hungry and miserable.

An Yang only hoped to rest sooner, because his Portable Space contained plenty of high-calorie food, enough to deal with all this.

That night, he secretly handed Hu Xiaolong and Yang Hui each a Snickers bar, preventing the original plot incident where Hu Xiaolong accepted Rossini's corn cake and was falsely accused. He then collected the Snickers wrappers from Yang Hui and Hu Xiaolong. The 2015 production date printed on them could not be exposed.

Hunter School's training was truly twisted. It was not only physical torture, but psychological torture as well. For example, they would bring out a huge chunk of raw bison meat and force everyone to finish it.

An Yang was not a special forces soldier, and the chances of him carrying out special missions in the future were slim. He had no need to endure something that disgusting. So the instant the beef reached his mouth, he put it into his Portable Space.

As a result, he was once again the first to finish.

Crocodile Instructor looked at him with growing satisfaction.

The next day, combat training began. It was still a training method with no scientific basis but plenty of practical value—throwing everyone into a mud pit and letting them freely find opponents to fight.

Here, An Yang performed especially well. His speed and strength were both twice that of an ordinary person, and they stacked multiplicatively. Combined with intermediate Mastery of Combat, fighting these special forces soldiers was no problem at all.

Bang.

With one punch, another special forces soldier was knocked to the ground. This was the third opponent he had sought out.

An Yang stopped to catch his breath. Seeing Yang Hui also struggle to defeat his opponent, he grinned despite his face being covered in mud.

Yang Hui smiled back at him. He had a good impression of this teammate too. Although An Yang did not often talk with him and Hu Xiaolong, the three of them always stuck together whenever there were difficulties in training, especially after secretly adding to their meal on the first night.

Suddenly, a tall special forces soldier charged over. Before Yang Hui could react, the man threw a vicious punch and knocked him to the ground.

An Yang froze. Because of his presence these past few days, Rossini had rarely gone out of his way to antagonize the two Chinese special forces soldiers as he did in the original plot. Yet unexpectedly, this scene had not changed in the slightest because of his arrival.

Rossini took two steps back, his face full of provocation, and laughed. "Chinese people are weak! Hahaha! You still want to come at me? I'm number one! Hahaha, what do you say?"

Hu Xiaolong rushed over and helped Yang Hui up.

Rossini raised both hands and stood in the center of the crowd, shouting arrogantly, "Who else wants to come? Who's next? Hahaha! Come on!"

Hu Xiaolong said a few words to Yang Hui and was just about to go over and give Rossini a vicious beating when he saw An Yang stride forward. As he walked, he undid the buttons of his camouflage uniform, revealing his muscular body.

A burst of commotion rose from the crowd. Rossini turned around and saw An Yang.

"An Yang, do you want to play with me?"

An Yang raised his head slightly to look at Rossini. He was not short—in fact, he was even a little taller than Yang Hui—but he still could not compare to the foreign special forces soldiers.

"No. I just want to beat the hell out of you and show you whether Chinese people are capable or not!"

Rossini paused, then burst into laughter. "Then come on. I'll make sure you die an ugly death, hahaha."

An Yang silently took a step forward. The muscles across his body instantly bulged, his physique becoming as sharply defined as steel and iron, making the heroine Lina's eyes shine brightly.

"Another little guy. Send someone bigger..."

Rossini was still speaking arrogantly when An Yang's foot slammed into his abdomen. He had not even seen it clearly, much less reacted, before the immense force sent him crashing to the ground.

Bang.

Cheers rose from all around. Crocodile Instructor raised his binoculars, his bright eyes fixed intently on the scene.

"Fight! Good! Fight! Beat him hard..."

An Yang refused to let up. He paced around to change direction, and just as Rossini tried to get back up, An Yang lashed out with another lightning-fast kick, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Do you still dare say Chinese people can't do it?"

Rossini tried to suddenly exert force and drag him down, but he could not even touch An Yang's body. His strength was utterly useless, and he could only take the beating passively.

After only a few blows, he could no longer get to his feet.

Only then did An Yang pick up his clothes from the ground and put them on without a word.

Yang Hui and Hu Xiaolong immediately walked over, raised their palms toward him, and said, "An Yang, well done."

Lina beside them was cheering as well.

About two months later, the special forces units of Hunter School began their first real combat operation, striking a drug trafficking group in the Amazon River basin.

An Yang only took part in the initial charge, barely managing to kill one drug trafficker. Afterward, he found a secluded spot, took out his M200 sniper rifle, and began sniping the terrorists of the drug trafficking group from afar.

With his previous experience of killing someone, along with the military competence brought by his skills, he had developed much greater resistance to killing. At the very least, he would not vomit anymore.

His marksmanship was now excellent, especially with the M200 sniper rifle. Nearly every shot was fatal.

The members of the drug organization at the front fell one after another, while special forces units from various countries at Hunter School had already surrounded them. They hurriedly climbed into their vehicles, preparing to leave with the drugs.

Yang Hui fully lived up to his protagonist halo. He leaped down from the second floor and landed on a truck carrying drugs. Before he could react, the drug trafficker on the roof instantly dodged his gun.

According to the original plot, this should have been the perfect time for him to engage the drug trafficker in close combat. He had prepared himself for exactly that, but then he heard a gunshot, and the enemy before him had already fallen.

We don't have any snipers. Could it be the enemy's? Did they hit the wrong person?

Thinking this, Yang Hui immediately jumped off the truck and found cover.

An Yang's heartbeat sped up slightly, but what flowed through his veins was not tension—it was excitement. His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued moving the crosshairs, aiming at the truck driver before sharply pulling the trigger.

"Whoosh."

Bang.

The truck's windshield shattered instantly. A huge spray of blood burst from the driver's chest. Just as one special forces soldier raised his gun, the passenger's head suddenly exploded, and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop after crashing into a tree.

The remaining special forces soldiers stood frozen in place, at a loss, until the companion beside him tugged him. Only then did he come back to his senses.

"Hey, waiter, your shooting is damn good."

"No, I didn't do it. It was a sniper—there's a sniper!"

The special forces soldiers soon noticed that enemies beside them were constantly being silently shot through the chest. The bullets were astonishingly powerful, often shattering an entire chest cavity with a single shot—something a small-caliber M16 rifle could never do.

"Where did that sniper come from?"