Life Game In Other World
Chapter 141: Marksmanship? I know some basics. (Double update, 7000 words. Please subscribe, bookmark, and vote for the month.)

Chapter 141: Chapter 141: Marksmanship? I know some basics. (Double update, 7000 words. Please subscribe, bookmark, and vote for the month.)

Zhang Ansha lifted the burly man and threw him onto the stretcher of the medical team at the side.

The remaining eight people fell into a brief silence, none of them had expected that the one who looked the skinniest would be the toughest nut to crack.

They looked at each other, none stepping forward.

Eventually, a young woman wearing a white veil stepped onto the arena and saluted He Ao with a bow, "Hello, conciliator."

That was her code name.

"Mercenary."

He Ao returned the gesture with a bow.

At that moment, the woman lifted her head to look at He Ao.

Under her gaze, He Ao felt his inner turmoil gradually calm down, and the desire to fight slowly diminished.

Then, he calmly and politely lifted the woman up and threw her out of the arena.

He Ao had never really had the desire to fight; he was just a law-abiding good individual, acting according to set objectives.

The woman didn’t realize what went wrong until she hit the ground and her buttocks made intimate contact with the earth.

However, with someone taking the lead, people gradually started to step onto the arena to challenge He Ao.

"Did you figure out that guy’s bottom line?"

The woman with a white mask and fisherman’s hat gently nudged the young man beside her in practice clothes, she and the practice clothes-wearing youth seemed to be acquainted friends.

"Did you see the open vegetable bag on his head?"

The young man in practice clothes leaned in slightly, his gaze fixed on the arena where He Ao was fighting with a man in armor.

"Huh? What about it? It’s just a very ordinary open vegetable bag."

The woman with the white mask spoke with doubt.

At that moment, He Ao looked like he was effortlessly knocking the armored man to the ground, picking him up, and throwing him off the platform.

"Look closely, his movement speed is actually very fast. At such a fast speed, the wind created by the oncoming air is not negligible, yet has the paper bag on his head shown any disturbance?"

The young man in sports apparel asked gravely.

"It seems..." The white-masked woman watched He Ao’s movements intently. The paper bag fitted on He Ao’s head moved subtly with his actions, yet it stayed put as though it were a tightly bound helmet, with not a single sign of being blown by the airflow, "indeed, there is none..."

She looked at the young man in sports apparel with confusion, "Is that difficult to achieve?"

......

The young man in sports apparel was silent for a moment before speaking slowly, "It’s difficult. It requires an extreme mastery of force to perfectly absorb the wind with the force emitted by the body inside the bag, keeping the paper bag in a constant state of balance. This force must be extremely precise; a slight deviation in direction would tear the fragile paper bag instantly."

"Oh," the woman with the white mask nodded as if she understood, then she asked, "Can you do it?"

"I..." The young man in sports apparel hesitated, his eyes following He Ao’s movements closely, "No, I can’t."

The white-masked woman knew her friend was always competitive, and his admission meant the one on the arena was truly formidable.

"I want to see for myself how formidable he is."

She stepped past the sports apparel-wearing youth, approached the front of the arena, and with a light jump, she leaped onto the arena.

"Feng Ling."

She greeted He Ao with a gentle bow of her hands.

"Mercenary."

He Ao bowed back.

Then, as He Ao was bowing, the Feng Ling across from him swiftly raised her hand, and a gust of wind blowing diagonally upwards struck at He Ao’s face, stirring the paper bag over his head.

The paper bag lifted slightly before quickly settling down, and even though the wind pressed it against He Ao’s cheeks, it did not move upwards even a fraction.

Feng Ling’s face turned red, her teeth clenched tightly, as she struggled to maintain the gust of wind.

He Ao watched her with interest.

Liu Nan’s files had information on Feng Ling, scarce as it was, but it indicated that Feng Ling’s talent was that of a "Magic Apprentice."

The last Magic Apprentice He Ao had encountered was nailed dead in an unfinished kindergarten building, a ’Magician’ who had gone mad.

A Magician could conjure doves, while Feng Ling could summon flowing wind; did the abilities of Magic Apprentices differ as well?

But it seemed they were all spell-related?

Was this a mage-like talent?

Then what would be the subsequent promotion talent for this? Magician? Mage? Great Magister?

While He Ao was pondering, the wind facing his cheeks gradually subsided.

Feng Ling bent down, her hands on her knees, gasping for breath, "You’re awesome, I give up."

Then she jumped straight off the arena.

By the time the next challenger stepped onto the stage, Feng Ling had already returned to the side of the young man in sports clothes, taken a seat, grabbed her water bottle, and while still panting, she said, "He really is awesome."

"Hmm."

The young man in sports clothes continued to watch He Ao’s movements closely.

"You’re watching so intently, why not go up and try?"

Feng Ling asked with some puzzlement.

The young man in sports clothes moved his fingers forward slightly, leaning in, as if he were indeed swayed by the suggestion at one point, but in the end, he drew back his hand and spoke softly, "I’ll watch a bit longer."

And so, time flew by swiftly, and soon, the thirty-minute deadline was about to be reached, with He Ao still standing calmly on the stage.

Apart from when he was throwing people off the stage, there was hardly anyone who could make him take even half a step.

The nine people seated here were obviously not all the Special Appointed Researchers, since going to the ruins meant facing death, many people could not make that decision; only a minority came here, and those were likely the stronger ones among the Special Appointed Researchers.

But even among these stronger ones, their proficiency with their own talents was very low, not to mention their own strength levels were E or even F, just the proficiency in their talents put them at a distance behind Bull and the Magician, let alone the talents of the strong ones from the Talent Sequences who trained in the Copy World amidst life and death.

He Ao could handle these people with one hand, and for him, accustomed to life-and-death battles, the current combat was so boring that he was becoming drowsy.

He began to regret not letting these people come at him all at once from the beginning; that way, he could have saved some time by defeating them all at once and added a bit of pressure on himself.

His combat skills were honed in life-and-death situations, so it really was somewhat lackluster to spar in these friendly matches.

In the last minute, He Ao threw the man wearing the pig-head mask off the arena.

Just when he thought no one else was going to challenge him, the young man in the sports clothes who had been watching his actions jumped up onto the stage.

He bowed slightly towards He Ao, "Fighter."

His body shook, bursts of crackling sounds erupting from within him.

Interesting.

He Ao eyed the ’Fighter’ before him.

The man gave off the impression of someone who truly practiced martial arts; although his physical abilities were stacked up by his Talent, his movements carried the distinct quality of someone who trained in martial arts for years.

"Please!"

He Ao lifted his hand slightly, signaling for the other to make the first move.

But the man made no move, instead fixing a dead stare on the paper bag on He Ao’s head.

Huge beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and as time around them seemingly came to a standstill, the Fighter continued to gaze at He Ao. This brief minute stretched out as if it was a century.

The two remained in this brief standoff.

Ding ling ling—

The abrupt ringing of the bell broke the stalemate between them; the thirty minutes were up.

The Fighter slumped powerlessly onto the arena floor, sobbing in agony,

"I can’t do it, I can’t understand, why? Why?"

He Ao’s gaze lingered on the young man in the sports outfit.

The information given by Liu Nan rated this young man extremely highly, considering him to be the strongest among all the Special Appointed Researchers in Xidu City.

[’Fighter’, Talent: ’Fighter’, E-class, practiced martial arts from a young age, extraordinary martial arts Talent, capable of fighting with F-class Transcendents even before awakening his Talent.]

At this moment, He Ao could actually understand the ’Fighter’s emotions.

When Regit realized there was no longer any possibility for advancement on his martial path, he felt the same despair.

It was the despair of a person who was confident in their martial talents when they faced a threshold they couldn’t comprehend or overcome.

Others who fought against He Ao could only recognize He Ao’s strength.

But the Fighter saw where He Ao was strong.

He realized that He Ao was advancing on a path far beyond his own, but at the same time, he acknowledged that there was no chance for him to break through; his knowledge and experience could not comprehend how that path was forged.

This was the reason for his despair.

He might have been content being oblivious, but having glimpsed the truth of the world, he found himself unable to enter that true world no matter how hard he tried.

He Ao withdrew his attention, ready to step down from the arena.

At that moment, the ’Fighter’ in the sports outfit abruptly blocked his way, falling to his knees before him, "Can you tell me how you did it? How can you... keep that paper bag from falling off your head?"

The audience below, originally shocked by the Fighter’s sudden burst of tears, now saw the Fighter kneeling before He Ao, asking why the paper bag didn’t fall off. Some couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

"Why wouldn’t it fall off? If it’s on your head, naturally it won’t fall off."

A few murmurs arose from below the arena.

Beside these murmurs were some furrowed brows of others who had fought He Ao, who just thought He Ao had a regular mask fixed on his head like them and didn’t pay it any mind.

At this moment, the Fighter’s words reminded them, what if what was on He Ao’s head wasn’t just a mask, but really just a paper bag for Chinese cabbage casually placed over his head?

How did he manage to keep such a paper bag on his head during intense movements without it falling or even showing signs of looseness, especially when there was a ’Mage’ who controlled ’wind’ and tried to blow it off forcefully?

These people began to feel a chill down their spines as they only now realized the monster they had just faced.

"Simple," He Ao pulled out a roll of clear tape from his pocket, "just stick it on."

Pfft—

Feng Ling, who was drinking water, burst out laughing.

"Tape... tape?"

The Fighter looked at the clear tape in He Ao’s hand, his entire being as if frozen in time.

Various awkward sounds of drinking water came from below, as if to cover up the bizarre speculations that had just run through their minds.

He Ao walked around the young man kneeling before him and descended from the arena.

Feng Ling hurriedly jumped onto the arena to support his friend, "Look at you, matching wits with the air. It’s just a roll of tape for him, and you had to imagine so many complex scenarios. I told you to believe in science, to watch fewer of those strange martial arts novels."

The Fighter was somewhat bewildered as he was helped up by his friend, staring blankly at He Ao’s retreating figure heading towards Zhang Ansha, "Just tape...?"

He felt a sense of loss, yet also a nagging suspicion that something wasn’t right.

—

"You kid..."

Zhang Ansha patted He Ao on the shoulder.

He knew He Ao was strong but hadn’t expected He Ao to be this formidable.

In this first round, He Ao had stood from the start to the very end, while the person with the next longest time hadn’t lasted more than ten minutes, creating a huge gap in scores at this moment.

"Next round is shooting; how’s your marksmanship?"

He Ao’s high score in the first round alleviated some of the slight worry in Zhang Ansha’s heart, but having reviewed He Ao’s history, he was aware that He Ao didn’t seem to have much experience with firearms. This made him a bit concerned for the second round’s performance.

However, most Special Appointed Researchers hadn’t handled firearms either, so this competition was just about picking the tallest amongst the short. Zhang Ansha figured that even if He Ao wasn’t great, he wouldn’t be too far behind with the bonus from the first round’s score, and the final result should be fine.

"Marksmanship?" He Ao glanced at the time and thought for a moment, "I know some basics."

"No worries, just do your best," Zhang Ansha patted He Ao on the shoulder.

The Chinese cabbage paper bag on He Ao’s head swayed slightly.

Zhang Ansha looked at the paper bag on He Ao’s head, realizing the issue with the paper bag earlier than the Fighter had. He asked softly, "Kid, did you really use tape to stick that paper bag on?"

He Ao gave him a glance and smiled, "Zhang, didn’t you see me put it on?"

Zhang Ansha met He Ao’s gaze and also smiled, not pursuing the question further.

All he had seen was He Ao casually placing the bag over his head and punching two holes in it, with no action taken to secure it in place.

Let alone any complicated operation like using tape to adhere it.

He Ao’s counter-question in itself had given him the answer.