Spy-x-War Showdown
Chapter 994 - 999: Pity for the Same Illness

Chapter 994: Chapter 999: Pity for the Same Illness

Every time Yang Yi picked up the gun, he would think of one person.

Who else could it be but Gong Yang.

Yang Yi put the gun down again, sighed, took off his earmuffs, and quietly watched the target. Then, suddenly, he grabbed the gun from the table and went on a wild shooting spree at the target.

The sound of Yang Yi’s gunfire startled the people around him. Who were they? One was the person practicing shooting next to him, the other, a security officer on patrol, which actually just meant sitting on a chair at the back.

This was the CIA, of course, there wouldn’t be anyone who couldn’t shoot. So, practicing here meant just that—practice. No teaching necessary, just practice. After all, a good marksman is made by the bullets fired.

But Yang Yi’s gunfire was somewhat unusual. What was different? Too fast, viciously fast. To shoot a 25-meter target with a 9mm pistol that quickly, he had to be out of the ordinary.

Therefore, both the security officer and the person next to Yang Yi couldn’t help but peek over, and then they saw the target paper that had automatically returned.

He fired ten bullets, not too bad, at least two hit the target, one in the third ring and one in the seventh ring. At least it wasn’t all misses.

The person standing next to Yang Yi just smiled faintly, but the security officer couldn’t help but laugh out aloud. Fortunately, after shaking his head, he sat back down.

Yang Yi felt somewhat embarrassed, but he calmly replaced the magazine and raised the gun again.

This time, shoot properly, slowly, and aim before firing.

Actually, if Yang Yi took his time shooting, his marksmanship was quite decent, not great but not terrible either, the level that a normal person can achieve after a lot of practice.

He took his shots slowly, one by one, occasionally hitting the bullseye but at least staying within the eighth ring. If this were shooting at a person, it would be considered quite accurate.

But, that was under the assumption that the target wasn’t moving.

He kept shooting until his hand was sore, and finally, Yang Yi stopped.

Any improvement? Not really. Shooting wasn’t like flying an airplane for him, which he could master after a few tries.

With master instructors like Brian and Paul, both experts in firearms, there was both the necessity and the environment for practice, but why couldn’t he improve his shooting no matter how much he tried?

Yang Yi was truly frustrated, deeply vexed.

Mainly because comparisons kill. Every time Yang Yi practiced shooting, he couldn’t help but think of Gong Yang, and then he would start doubting his own skills.

No matter how much he practiced, he couldn’t match up to others. There seemed to be no point in continuing.

Yang Yi heaved a long sigh. He could now profoundly relate to Xiao Ran’s feelings—the kind where you have a mountain in front of you that you can’t climb over by any means. Even if you flew a plane, you couldn’t get over it. The feeling was just too awful.

The magazine was now empty. Yang Yi reloaded it with ten more bullets, then raised the gun again, and unleashed ten shots at the target in a burst of release.

This time it was even worse, only one shot hit the target, probably the first one. After that, in his rapid firing, the rest missed.

Yang Yi couldn’t understand—how could Gong Yang shoot so fast? Why? What gave him the right?

Unable to help it, he sighed deeply and placed the gun on the table.

He didn’t actually throw it, but Yang Yi’s strength was a bit too much, and the gun made a rather loud noise as he put it down.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Yang Yi twisted his head around and saw the middle-aged man seated behind him stand up, a look of discontent on his face.

"What’s the matter? Is there a problem?"

The middle-aged man walked up to Yang Yi. He shot a glance at Yang Yi, then pointed to the gun on the table and said sternly, "Don’t treat a gun that way. Even if it isn’t your weapon, you shouldn’t do that. Understand?"

Yang Yi exhaled and said, "Sorry, I was a bit... um, sorry, it won’t happen again."

Yang Yi’s apology seemed sincere. The safety officer nodded, then said solemnly, "Alright, I can tell you’re in a bad mood, or else you wouldn’t fire like that. You can come here and shoot a few rounds to vent, it’s a good way to let out emotions, but just fire the bullets, don’t be rough with the gun."

Yang Yi paused, then shook his head, "I’m not in a bad mood. Well, now I am a little, but I didn’t mean to vent my emotions."

"Why fire so quickly? Nobody does that unless they’re really pissed off. What’s the point? Other than wasting bullets, what’s the point?"

Yang Yi hesitated, then replied, "There is a point. I want to practice speed shooting, yeah, firing really fast but also being accurate."

The safety officer chuckled and waved his hand, saying, "Buddy, you’re quite the joker. That’s how you practice speed shooting? Have you never taken a shooting class?"

Yang Yi replied somewhat awkwardly, "It’s not all about practice. I wanted to see what kind of standard I would achieve shooting like that."

"What standard can there be other than missing the target?"

Yang Yi couldn’t help but ask, "Have you been here long?"

"For quite a while, about eleven years."

"Then have you ever seen someone fire as fast as I just did and still hit the target accurately?"

"What are you talking about? Firing a flurry of quick shots with your finger and still hitting accurately? Ha-ha, what a joke."

Yang Yi let out a breath and said, "No, I’ve seen it. In fact, I’ve witnessed it. The speed was about the same as mine, or so it sounded, uh, and they could score above nine out of ten for every shot."

The safety officer thought for a moment, then drew his own pistol and stepped forward to Yang Yi’s firing line. He fired a rapid sequence at the target, using one hand, almost without pause.

When he finished, the safety officer inhaled deeply, then pressed a button. Waiting for the target paper to come back, he spoke gravely, "Like this?"

Yang Yi was stunned.

One shot in the ten ring, one in the eight, and all the rest were in the nine.

Yang Yi looked at the safety officer with admiration and said loudly, "Fuck, what a pro!"

The safety officer rolled his eyes and then said to Yang Yi, "I’ve never seen what you described, but I can do it. But does it make sense? The target is just there, it won’t move. If it were a person, what’s the difference between shooting them once or ten times?"

Yang Yi’s mouth twitched, and then he murmured, "Moving targets, what if they’re shooting at moving targets?"

The safety officer paused, then shook his head, "Impossible, absolutely impossible, you must be joking."

"No, it’s possible."

Suddenly, a person who had been listening to the conversation between Yang Yi and the officer spoke up. He stepped out from his shooting lane and said helplessly to the safety officer, "There are such people, really, I’ve seen them. I almost died at his hands. You ask why I come here to practice shooting every day, have I ever told you why?"

"No."

"The truth is my confidence was shattered. I lost the courage to pick up a gun. Um, every time I pick up a gun, I remember that person, then I feel doomed. So the therapist suggested I take a break, and now I come here to shoot every day, hoping to regain my confidence."