Chapter 171: I told you to eat, and you actually did?

The Company Commander deliberately reread the three words "old people's home" at the end.

The aim was to, through Lu Yang, harshly whip his own company's lazy, good-for-nothing soldiers.

What is an elite unit?

This is what an elite unit is!

In an elite unit, soldiers can rank first in a 5-kilometer run after six months of service, and second in marksmanship!

Yesterday he just received his results, was rewarded with a day off, and instead of staying in his own company playing on his phone, sleeping in, or going out to stroll the streets, surf the internet, get a foot massage, or binge eat.

Rather, he deliberately ran this far to actively seek Zhao Chuanwu to learn and improve his close-combat skills.

Soldiers with such initiative, who actively learn and improve, are hard to find even with a lantern.

As a result, when the Company Commander and Instructor saw Lu Yang, they truly felt like looking at someone else's outstanding child.

They were so envious that if their company had even one or half such a soldier, they wouldn't rank last in the regiment's comprehensive evaluation, nor would they be lax overall.

However, this does not mean that the 441 Regiment's overall strength is weaker than that of the Special Third Regiment.

The 441 Regiment is a heavy artillery regiment, with many cannons, tanks, and armored vehicles, and has fourteen companies.

While the Special Third Regiment, as a mechanized infantry regiment, has only twelve companies, and its heavy weapons are far fewer than theirs.

Therefore, on paper the 441 Regiment is stronger than the Special Third Regiment; however, on the training field, their regiment wins less and loses more.

The Instructor also spoke up: "How about your company's hygiene? What time do you get up in the morning to tidy up?"

Zhao Chuanwu, under the table, tugged at Lu Yang's clothes, signaling him to think carefully before speaking.

Lu Yang seriously considered it, deliberately pushing back his wake-up time by half an hour.

He thought that if he delayed it further, the time should also be about time to get up, right?

"We usually get up at five to tidy up, and if it's cold we delay by fifteen minutes."

"As for discipline, in political and theory classes, does anyone ever fall asleep?"

"Generally not; after each class we check the notes, and no one dares not to pay attention."

"......"

The cafeteria was deathly silent.

Zhao Chuanwu's throat gave a gulp, and his hanging heart finally died completely.

Their company gets up at 5:30 in the morning; when on leave, they can even sleep until the wake-up call.

As for political and military theory classes, they'd sleep through large chunks; as for taking notes, they'd never even listened, just scribbling randomly in their books.

The Instructor laughed, a sinister chuckle: "Hehe, hehehe, your company's learning efficiency is still high; we're lacking by leaps and bounds."

He turned to those soldiers sitting ramrod straight, hands on their thighs, not daring to move, and said: "Come on, eat; if you don't pick up your chopsticks, the food will get cold—eat first!"

The soldiers hurriedly grabbed their chopsticks, mechanically shoveling big mouthfuls of rice into their mouths, eating with trembling hearts.

The Company Commander stood up, first laughing "haha" twice, then, in a frenzy, shouted: "I told you to eat, and you actually did? I told you to train, and I've never seen you this eager!"

"Eat, eat, eat, all you know is to eat—a bunch of gluttons, a pack of rice buckets!"

Including Squad Leader Zhang, Zhao Chuanwu, and Zaxi Nima, all the soldiers wore bitter faces, the food in their mouths feeling like chewing wax.

The Company Commander angrily shouted: "Everyone, gather outside fully armed, run around the camp until you've vomited up all your breakfast!"

The cafeteria, just moments ago packed with people, instantly emptied completely, leaving Lu Yang at a loss.

He neither could sit nor stand, feeling that his arrival had unintentionally brought a calamity upon the Ninth Company.

Lu Yang tried to find an excuse to slip away quickly, but the Instructor pressed him down firmly, forcibly detaining him.

"You haven't finished your meal yet, don't rush off?"

"I heard from Squad Leader Zhang that you're exchanging learning material."

"You just learned Through-the-back Fist; this afternoon you should also teach our soldiers marksmanship."

"I heard you want to fire a 152mm howitzer? Perfect—tomorrow afternoon there's live-fire artillery training, letting you get up close to experience the concentrated fire of a howitzer!"

Lu Yang's eyes lit up; he simply wasn't in a hurry to leave, but first finished his meal.

As for whether others would resent or blame him, Lu Yang actually didn't care much.

He isn't a soldier here; he's just paying a visit.

Squad Leader Zhang also selected three soldiers for him to teach marksmanship.

Even if the soldiers here broke their teeth, they'd still have to swallow it down.

But Lu Yang truly hadn't expected that, despite both being military units, there could be such a comfortable unit.

On weekends, it's really just the weekend; a mess hall meal is really just a big meal; attending theory class is really just people sitting in the classroom?

Only at this moment did Lu Yang realize how great the gap between ordinary units and elite units is, and he felt fortunate to be assigned to Sixth Company, a unit with strict requirements.

However, he was also curious about units even tougher than Iron Foot, and what their soldiers' training life is like.

From the perspective of those people looking at the Iron Foot Company, wouldn't they also feel its training is lax, just as he does?

In the afternoon, Lu Yang practiced some close-combat techniques of Through-the-back Fist again.

Then, as previously agreed, he taught marksmanship techniques to the three seedlings selected by Squad Leader Zhang.

Actually, what he taught were just the most basic shooting fundamentals, but since the artillery unit's main work is firing guns, live-fire shooting opportunities are indeed rare.

On the battlefield, almost all heavy firepower units are far in the rear; the artillery unit's main work is to eliminate enemy fire positions, defend positions, headquarters, and other key facilities.

Therefore, relative to other branches, artillery is comparatively safe.

In a safe and comfortable environment, they don't waste much time honing marksmanship or other military skills.

But this also means that once a forward position is breached, or reconnaissance troops get nearby, the artillery's fate is either an emergency retreat or being blown to pieces by those reconnaissance troops.

Having experienced being ambushed by the enemy on the battlefield, Squad Leader Zhang feels it's still very necessary to cultivate one or two precise shooters in his squad.

Unfortunately, the company lacks sharpshooters, and the regiment's dedicated sniper company tends to be aloof, generally unwilling to engage with them.

Coincidentally, Lu Yang achieved an outstanding result in the shooting competition, and he showed up just then.

Initially, Squad Leader Zhang was still worried that the few soldiers he had picked would look down on others.

They thought Lu Yang was just a private and gave him a cold shoulder, refusing to cooperate.

But the facts proved he was overthinking.

Lu Yang's skill shown in morning sparring, plus his solid strength, had already earned everyone's respect.

The unit values martial prowess; whoever has ability is respected wherever they go.

But while teaching on the shooting range, Lu Yang suddenly sensed something was off.

"Hold on."

"What's wrong?"

Squad Leader Zhang hurried over to ask.

Lu Yang ignored him and walked straight up to a soldier.

"Fire two more shots, let me see."

"Oh, okay."

That soldier lay prone, aiming at a target 200 meters away.

He fired three shots; only one bullet hit the target's third ring, while the other two went who-knows-where.

Lu Yang looked at Squad Leader Zhang and bluntly said, "This is the soldier you said had shooting talent? At 200 meters with iron sights he can't even hit the target."

Squad Leader Zhang was also at a loss, giving that soldier a knuckle on the head: "What's wrong with you? Last time you did fine with live-fire shooting, but now you're shooting like crap."

That soldier hemmed and hawed, coming up with excuses like a headache, poor sleep, bad feel, etc.

But he simply refused to admit his skill was lacking—people need face, trees need bark—and Lu Yang could understand.

But teaching like this is pointless; he can only help improve, not start from zero.

Lu Yang isn't a soldier here, and he has no obligation to spend that much time and patience slowly grinding.

Squad Leader Zhang's face wasn't looking good either; he kept explaining to Lu Yang that this soldier normally wasn't like this.

Saying he still had some talent for shooting, but now who knows what happened?

Lu Yang frowned, thinking Squad Leader Zhang wasn't lying, but where exactly was the problem?

With a responsible attitude, he had the soldier fire a few more rounds, but his aim remained poor.

"Give me the gun."

"Why?"

"Let me check."

"What's there to look at?"

That soldier was obviously a bit nervous, but under Squad Leader Zhang's order he still handed the gun to Lu Yang.

After taking the gun, Lu Yang cleared the chamber, removed the magazine, and did a quick check.

With the naked eye he saw nothing wrong.

He reloaded the magazine and disengaged the safety.

Lu Yang assumed a sniping stance, aimed at the target 200 meters away, and pulled the trigger.

At this range, even with iron sights hitting the bullseye would be child's play.

But what Lu Yang didn't expect was that this shot, which should have dead‑centered the bullseye, instead hit the sixth ring.

Lu Yang had never doubted his marksmanship—after all he had just scored a perfect score in the Division's precision shooting competition—so the problem must be the gun!

He turned his head, looking quizzically at the soldier: "Your gun's trajectory is off to the left—you didn't notice?"