Zhuang Yan gripped that 95-1 automatic rifle and slumped into firing position.
The wind had picked up.
It was bad news for long range shooting.
He raised his head slightly and glanced ahead.
The grass was moving.
Based on the amplitude of the grass tip swinging, one could tell that it was a cross and wind.
At a distance of 400 meters, Yoki and the wind needed to make a directional correction, and according to the factory parameters of the 95-1 automatic rifle, the correction at this distance was 1.7 mils, or intuitively speaking, 0.68 meters.
Roughly the width of a man-sized target is corrected.
Since it's a machine sight, it's not possible to make the quickest and most direct corrections via the dividing plate in the scope, and having to make left and right corrections when the target is almost smaller than a grain of broken rice sounds like a joke.
If you can get on the target at such a time are already masters masters masters masters masters, let alone to hit the small circle on the target paper.
At least that was what the E Division cadres and soldiers standing behind Zhuang Yan thought.
Hou Jun let out a slight sigh and shook his head, "It seems like the heavens are helping our headmaster."
Emotionally, Hou Jun stood on Li Haiou's side.
But rationally, he felt sorry for Zhuang Yan.
The head of the regiment was right, it seemed that this shooting was entirely a matter of luck, reflecting no level, as there was no way to bring up the level at all.
He felt that even if Zhuang Yan was more powerful, he might be able to guarantee that he could outperform Li Haiou in this situation.
Through the shooting baseline, Zhuang Yan saw 400 meters away that "small grain of rice".
Very small, very mold lake.
He slowly controlled his breathing, so that the body like a snake into a state similar to hibernation, blood hit the brain, eyes and hands.
Years of training had stabilized his hands enough that panning the collimator to make corrections pointed him exactly where he wanted to aim.
"I can do this ..."
He muttered, a small smile spreading across the corners of his mouth.
For Zhuang Yan, higher difficulty meant higher challenge, and higher challenge could force out his greater potential.
Wasn't this how he himself had come through all these years?
His mind flashed back to the time when he and Old White Hair were on a secret sniping mission at the border.
Old White Hair.
The head of the headquarters' covert operations unit.
That guy can be a really good teacher.
"... Remember, snipers are also human, not God, the reason why the shooting that breaks through the human limit requires talent is because you may not be able to clearly aim at the target when you shoot, you can only rely on your feeling, do you know what feeling is? It's the feeling of your gun!"
Those words rang in his ears once again.
Gun sense.
When he heard this word back then, Zhuang Yan felt that Old White Hair was making a pretense, saying something nebulous to lake himself.
During the few days when they were disguised and lurking in the dirt pits at the border, Zhuang Yan pondered over this phrase as soon as he had the time, but he was never able to get a grasp of it
But later on, when the two were forced to face more than a hundred people and were ordered to intercept them all, Zhuang Yan completely realized what is called "gun sense".
Too many enemies, two people on the two sniper rifles and two automatic rifles, the actual battle told Zhuang Yan, in the training ground you can slowly aim, can slowly check whether the direction of fire is correct, can check the environment and wind speed, humidity variables, etc., calculate the results and finally ensure that everything is foolproof when you pull the trigger.
But real-world combat often necessitates one word for all but the first shot - fast!
If you don't, you die!
That feeling, that thing called "gun sense", reappeared.
The "grains of rice" suddenly became a lake.
The sights and spotters became clear.
The feeling came!
Zhuang Yan in the even pulled the trigger.
Ping--
The first shot.
Ping--
Second shot.
Ping--
Then the third shot.
And then shot after shot after shot, at very short intervals.
"It looks like our Chief of Staff Zhuang is also relying on Meng."
Li Haiou, who was standing behind the firing line, sighed in relief and couldn't suppress a smile of joy.
Wang Xinjun suddenly said, "Li Haiou, victory is not a victory! This is God's way of doing you a favor. But then again, you haven't won yet, right?"
Shi Song said, "I think it's 80% sure I can win. It's too difficult with the wind up and not a specialized sniper rifle and ammo. You see that Chief of Staff Zhuang shoots so quickly ... I am afraid that he himself has given up fine aiming and is betting on luck."
10 rounds of ammunition, quickly shot out.
Zhuang Yan leaped up from the ground, checking the gun, setting the gun, gazing towards the direction of the target for a moment, turning around and walking calmly down the shooting ground line.
"This is not fair to you, why don't we re-fight?"
Perhaps feeling that it is indeed not a good idea to win, perhaps really feel that they are winning, Li Hai-Ou took the initiative to propose a rematch.
"This weather changes too quickly, but it's true that this is a valley area, so it's easy to get windy."
He had long ago made up his mind that he could not authorize anyone, anyway, the wind is not allowed to play everyone, together not allowed to play can also be, his own intention is not also not work on the idea of pulling Zhuang Yan into the water?
I'm afraid there's nothing wrong with playing again.
I did not expect Zhuang Yan shook his head and said: "There is no need, and then I am afraid to fight so, I 10 hair are on, and then fight so."
When these words came out, not only Wang Xinjun a few divisional cadres blew up, other officers and soldiers who heard this also blew up.
10 rounds and 10 hits?
Is it possible?
Everyone immediately had the feeling of a cow flying in the sky.
Even Hou Jun was dumbfounded.
Is it possible?
He asked himself and simulated it in his mind.
Even if he took out the best level and got the best luck, he felt that he would have a chance to hit 10 out of 10 under the kind of conditions that Li Hai-Ou was shooting at.
But to him in the Zhuang Yan shooting the kind of windy conditions under the shooting, Hou Jun feels that he is at most on the 5 rounds.
And do not talk about what hit the small circle.
Zhuang Yan said he hit 10 out of 10?
What are his credentials?
Such a long distance, no observation lens in his hand, no binoculars, not even a white light scope, how did he judge himself 10 rounds on 10?
Hou Jun couldn't help it, no matter what discipline, directly jogged over, stood not far from the division commander and Zhuang Yan, and perked up his ears to hear what else they said.
In the midst of a murmur of skepticism, the safeguard personnel sent the target paper that Zhuang Yan had shot at directly over, rather than informing them through the intercom.
Perhaps the person in charge of the safeguard couldn't believe his own eyes, just like if you told someone that you saw an alien, no one would believe you, unless you really kidnapped an alien and sent it to someone else's face presumably then someone would believe you.
"Xiao Wang, what's going on? How many rounds on?"
The security officer who sent the target paper over was a corporal, surnamed Wang, Li Haiou eagerly asked after him when he saw him.
Little Wang held the target in his hand, his face filled with an indescribable expression, and finally handed the target paper over.
"Division commander, regimental commander, you can see for yourselves ...."
Li Haiou took the target paper with a belly full of questions and unfolded it.
Quite a few bullet holes on it.
He started counting-
1...
2...
3...
4...