"Report target!"
The loud voice fluttered across the deserted shooting range, with every word falling like a coin of steel, stirring vigour in the hearts of those who heard it.
Those who had just finished shooting all stood at attention, with their Type 95 rifles slanted at their sides. Each person stood straight and tall, like pillars rooted in the ground, unyielding even if the heavens were to collapse.
Jocelyn Carrington, brimming with confidence, looked provocatively at Flossie Wright, only to find her appearing calm and composed. This contrasted sharply with her usual anxious demeanor after shooting, which stirred Jocelyn's disdain and displeasure.
In theory, there was a stark difference in capabilities between Flossie and her, and there was no need for her to compete with Flossie. However, since joining the Forces, Jocelyn's pride has been suppressed by Flossie, and the subsequent jealousy made her unconsciously compete with Flossie. Any small progress from Flossie would make her restless, and any failure from Flossie became the anticipated seasoning in her life at the Forces.
"Jocelyn Carrington, score ninety-eight!"
As the scores were announced one by one, expressions of joy and worry crossed the faces of the soldiers. Yet, no one uttered a word until Jocelyn's score was announced. The ringing, powerful voice seemed to cause an uproar in the tense and solemn shooting range. Everyone could hear their intake of sharp breaths, questioning if they had misheard. Even the instructors and squad leaders around raised their eyebrows in surprise.
Five bullets, ninety-eight points.
If such a score was achieved, someone must have hit the wrong target. Now only Flossie's score was left to be reported. If indeed a mistake was made, her score would hover between forty-eight and fifty.
Of course, among the new recruits, many achieved such scores, including Jocelyn. However, the problem was, Flossie was notoriously known for scoring zero points!
Jocelyn felt intense waves of shock and tension envelop her. Subconsciously, she looked from the corner of her eye at Flossie next to her, who was nonchalantly lacking any shock or excitement. Her lips were slightly curved into a seductive smile while her facial expression was devoid of any excess emotion. Realizing Jocelyn was watching, Flossie turned her head slightly, narrowed her eyes and shot Jocelyn a challenging look full of laughter. The sense of humiliation slapped Jocelyn in the face, igniting a flame of anger in her chest.
"Flossie Wright, zero points!"
Immediately after, as if to confirm the guesses of those present, the soldier standing next to Flossie started reporting the target. His pronunciation was clear, and the voice was loud, leaving no room for doubt.
Silence, solemnity, shock.
Within the deserted shooting range, a cool autumn breeze struck the soldiers, seeming to tear apart the shock and surprise in their hearts.
As an instructor for the new recruit company, Abram Phillips believed he had a fair understanding of the capabilities of these recruits. His impression of Flossie was deep, as in all his years of leading soldiers, she was the only recruit who had come in last in all the tests. Now, his sharp gaze swept over Flossie, carrying a hint of consideration and curiosity. After registering her slender and straight form, he averted his eyes.
For the first time, he felt a little confidence in this new recruit.
Even if it was a fluke, that was her luck. And on the battlefield, perhaps just a little bit of luck would be enough to save her life.