Chapter 89: The Main Pit Master and the Deputy Pit Master

Bang, bang bang bang......

Overhead, the whizz of bullets cutting through the air comes.

The target paper, as if a chopstick were stabbing tofu, is effortlessly pierced by the bullet.

The tunnel at the far end of the firing range is connected, like a large drainage ditch, and from above bits of earth and stone debris occasionally fall.

This tunnel is where the range‑reporting personnel stay.

At this moment, Lu Yang is sitting on a small stool, back against a cement wall, leafing through the book in his hand that is the most common firearms usage and maintenance compendium in the unit.

The book covers disassembly, structure, and general specifications of the vast majority of domestically produced weapon models.

Lu Yang happens to be reading the section on the Type 85 sniper rifle, and he is deeply engrossed.

He cannot hear the crackling gunfire overhead at all, completely unaffected by external distractions.

"Buddy, you're really awesome!"

"Six hours, even veterans would be foaming at the mouth!"

"With that stamina, not running a marathon would be a waste!"

Next to him, a slightly comical, small‑eyed, two‑armed veteran gives Lu Yang a thumbs‑up.

Lu Yang turns his head, looks at him, and, not having heard what he said, asks, "Huh?"

The man leans in and loudly asks, "I'm praising you, saying you're awesome!"

Lu Yang: "I'm not a bull, I'm a sheep!"

"I'm not asking what you belong to, I'm praising you, praising you!"

"Oh, oh, thank you!"

"The overhead crackle is so loud, yet you can still read the book; you're just too badass!"

Lu Yang pulls out the cotton plug from his ear, smiles at him, and says, "I have a secret weapon; want me to share a bit with you?"

The man shakes his head and introduces himself: "My surname is Wan, I'm called Wan Baoshan; you can also call me Jack of All Trades, I know everything about the Regiment's affairs."

Lu Yang says, "My name is Lu Yang—'Lu' as in traveling, 'Yang' as in sunrise."

Wan Baoshan curiously asks, "As a fresh recruit, how were you assigned to the intensive training squad? Everyone here are the most outstanding, most formidable, most badass soldiers from each unit."

Saying this, he lifts his neck high, as if specifically bragging about himself.

Lu Yang himself doesn't know how, but he was sent here in a muddled way.

Wan Baoshan ponders that Lu Yang must have some background; otherwise, how could he appear here?

So he proactively pulls a cigarette from his pocket, hands one over, and extends goodwill.

But Lu Yang shakes his head and says he doesn't smoke.

"Actually, I don't smoke either; the smell of smoke makes me feel sick, nauseous, want to vomit."

Wan Baoshan kicks the cigarette back, grinning, and says, "But everyone smokes; if I don't have a pack or two on me, wouldn't that make me look out of place?"

"If you want to improve, you have to be clever; later you can do as I do, keep a pack of cigarettes on you."

"When you smoke for yourself it's almost nothing, but for cadres and leaders it must be good, at least worth twenty bucks or more."

Lu Yang finds the guy quite interesting, so he nods, indicating he has taken the lesson.

Wan Baoshan, seeing Lu Yang is also sincere and modest, points at the ground beneath his feet.

"Do you know what this is?"

"A firing range?"

"Wrong, the outside is called a firing range; here we have a foul ditch. Especially when it rains, the water can reach up to the ankles."

Wan Baoshan, like Lu Yang, leans against the wall, looking up at the bullets whizzing overhead.

He habitually brushes off the dust, ash, and stone fragments that have fallen on his body and legs.

"Have you seen Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

"Hmm."

"The two of us are like little turtles in the sewer; during the day we can't show our heads at all."

Wan Baoshan also says that those who stay here are usually called Pit Masters.

He is the main Pit Master, Lu Yang is the deputy Pit Master.

He tells him not to feel embarrassed; it's just like being the master of Peach Blossom Island or the master of Heartless Island—just the same.

Lu Yang hears this and wants to laugh; it seems this guy has read a lot of Jin Yong wuxia novels.

The bullets overhead continue to whizz by, some hitting the targets, some grazing the edge and striking the earthen wall.

Wan Baoshan closes his eyes, pricks up his ears, and listens carefully to the gunfire above.

"Right now it's a short burst..."

"Now it's a longer burst..."

"Why is it still off‑target?"

"We've been here for several days and there's been no improvement; later they'll have to see me, Wan Baoshan, show them a trick!"

Lu Yang looks up and asks, "Pit Master, do we take turns?"

Wan Baoshan opens his eyes and chuckles, "Of course not; only the old chief has the right to be Pit Master. I used to be the old chief, but now that you're here, I'm not any longer."

Lu Yang pouts; he simply hasn't fired live rounds.

If he were to fire a few times, he'd learn at lightning speed.

However, being able to sit in the pit and watch the shooting from the range‑reporter's perspective is actually quite interesting.

Because from this angle you can directly see who has good shooting, who has poor shooting, especially those who miss the target—truly a feast for the eyes.

Wan Baoshan sees Lu Yang still flipping through the book, and, as someone with experience, offers a couple of pointers.

"Although I'm not more than two years older than you, having enlisted earlier makes me your senior; let me give you a few suggestions."

"Books, you should read little; no matter how much you read, it's useless. Practice, it's a completely different matter from what's in the books."

"If you want to master shooting, the most important thing is real training, real watching, real feeling; a good shooter not only needs extraordinary talent, but also must feed it with bullets."

Lu Yang humbly took the advice: "I'm just flipping through casually, wanting to see the general structure of the Type 85 sniper rifle."

Wan Baoshan immediately laughed: "You guys in the New Recruit Company, have you just been issued guns for a few days, have you never even fired a Type 81, just practicing lifting the gun and aiming there?"

"Ugh."

"I tell you, I've almost worn out the Type 81, and a few days ago I also test‑fired the Type 85 sniper; that feeling—tsk tsk tsk—how can I describe it to you?"

Wan Baoshan, full of swagger, might seem boastful and showy, yet he isn't annoying at all.

Lu Yang kept flipping the book while listening to him brag about his various "glorious histories."

He talked about the Whole Company's hope, the most promising ace shooter, born with an eagle's eyes, a wolf's nose, a cheetah's speed, and so on.

Anyway, however cryptic or boastful, Lu Yang's main contribution was to cooperate by tossing in a timely retort when appropriate, cranking the emotional value to the max.

Wan Baoshan got more and more carried away; once the talk box opened, it wouldn't shut.

In the sniper training squad, he was the youngest and the worst shot, otherwise he wouldn't have come to be the pit master.

But in front of the recruits, he was a senior, an industry big‑shot, so a simple brag was fine.

"Shooting complete, report the target!"

At that moment, a flat‑toned voice from Guo Yongwen came over the nearby intercom.

Because Lu Yang was a rookie and unfamiliar with the procedure, Wan Baoshan personally gave him a demonstration.

He picked up the intercom and began reporting the scores of the overhead targets.

"Target 1, seventy‑three rings!"

"Target 2, seventy‑eight rings!"

"Target 3…"

The pit master's job isn't hard—just squat down and guard.

Using elementary math, add up the ring numbers on the target sheet and report the total.

When the reporting ended, Guo Yongwen's harsh scolding came through, apparently lecturing the troops; it was crystal clear over the intercom.

He sat back on the small stool, Wan Baoshan tossing a pebble in his hand, continuing to gossip with Lu Yang.

"Hey, what do you think of our Captain Guo, how is he?"

Guo Yongwen was lecturing over there when, suddenly, from his waist‑mounted intercom, Wan Baoshan's voice came through.

He froze for a moment, then realized he'd left the channel open during the earlier reporting…