Xuan Ping from Cheng Feng's team was the first one up, the soldier who had initially proposed the competition.
At a distance of fifty meters, bang bang bang, three shots were fired, and the scores displayed on the intelligent monitor at the side of the field read: eight, nine, ten rings.
Cheers and applause instantly erupted from the crowd, and Qu Tong joined in with clapping as well.
Normally, pistol shooting starts at 20 or 30 meters and then increases from there, but they started right away with a 50 meters target—this score was quite impressive.
Xuan Ping bared his big teeth, still slightly proud, "Madam, excuse my poor performance."
Cheng Feng kicked out at him, "It's indeed quite ugly, next one."
Xuan Ping twisted his butt and successfully dodged Cheng Feng's kick, made room, and let others go up.
Everyone went up one after the other, leaving only Wen You, Cheng Feng, and Qu Tong.
