Chapter 32

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Chapter 32: Soldiers Shooting Targets at the Camp

Without any aircraft, the idle pilots found ways to entertain themselves. Some studied books, others formed teams on the ground like eagles catching chicks, while some, like Lin Mo, practiced shooting. With many flight missions canceled, the absence of the nightly roar of aircraft left some people struggling to adapt to the quiet night sky.

The weapons in the camp’s armory weren’t as comprehensive as those of the army, but with the presence of a security force, the equipment was still impressive. Despite being small, each arm was fully equipped with automatic rifles, grenades, light and heavy machine guns, and even sniper rifles. After all, the base had both ammunition training requirements and the need to phase out old equipment. With nothing else to do, the logistics chief was generous in letting the pilots practice.

A new batch of upgraded Type 95 automatic rifles had recently arrived, and Lin Mo took great joy in handling them. The special design made the recoil almost negligible for him, allowing for precise shooting that was perfect for beginner soldiers.

After the first ten shots, he was nearly hitting the target every time. The effectiveness of the weapon could rival that of magic; the learning curve was low—one just needed to pull the trigger, and even ordinary civilians could master it in no time. If Lin Mo had weapons like this in his previous world, soldiers wouldn’t even need to practice battle energy; even heavy armor might not withstand it.

Lin Mo became a regular at the shooting range, firing hundreds of rounds daily and significantly improving his shooting skills. He privately considered his firearms training to hold the same importance as his Dragon Slayer sword. However, he still didn’t have permission to use an anti-material rifle; instead, he was limited to the standard Type 95. Had he the chance, he would have chosen the anti-material rifle without hesitation for its longer range and greater stopping power. The standards for measuring offensive capabilities were nearly identical in both worlds of armed forces.

“Have you heard? Wang Jun has woken up!” Boom! A distant target shattered into pieces from a fireball as Chen Haiqing casually set down his Type 95 rifle. He inserted a 40mm grenade and highly valued his information network. He always seemed to have news quickly, no matter where he was—a trait of this wealthy kid that everyone had to admire.

“……” Lin Mo felt utterly demoralized as Chen Haiqing’s explosive display obliterated the target he had been trying to hit all day.

Chen Haiqing had been trying to get closer to Lin Mo, and subconsciously, he was curious about the person behind Lin Mo’s impressive physical abilities. Their relationship deepened as they spent more time together.

“If you hadn’t acted quickly, Wang Jun might not have made it. He owes you his life! The next day, he was transferred to the military hospital. He’s lucky to be alive, but he’ll never fly again. He’ll probably receive some sort of compensation and return home. Out of the brothers we came from aviation school with, we’ve lost one in just under two months. Life as a pilot is tough. The pilot who was with Wang Dong is called Han Xingmin, from Hunan. Such a shame for him; when his partner arrived, she cried so tragically.”

As Chen Haiqing spoke, his tone was filled with deep regret, his voice noticeably lower. The risks inherent in being a pilot were understood—once they entered the base, the veterans had told them that crashing one or two aircraft a year, resulting in casualties, was nothing unusual.

It seemed that the realities of flight accidents struck Chen Haiqing deeply, especially since he was still young and had yet to face life-and-death experiences.

Even experienced pilots felt the weight of risk when flying, but the fearlessness of youth often kept them from dwelling too much on it. However, witnessing a crash firsthand was something no one could simply ignore. In the minds of many trainees, this was the fate of a soldier.

Chen Haiqing aimed again, launching another 40mm grenade. It seemed he chose this powerful weapon to relieve his pent-up stress, the explosion ringing in everyone’s ears at the shooting range.

Firing grenades in a military club for twenty bucks was nothing compared to this. At least here, they didn’t have to spend money to enjoy it.

Chen Haiqing’s actions drew angry looks from others shooting at the range. Yet, after blasting Lin Mo’s and his targets, he turned his sights on the high grass between them and the nearby targets—like a child wanting to set off firecrackers, he sent bits of grass flying all around.

“Have they figured out what caused the crash?” Lin Mo asked, as he slowly loaded gleaming 5.8mm bullets into an empty magazine while watching Chen Haiqing’s antics, shaking his head at the chaos caused by the grenade.

“I heard it was mainly due to wind shear. There are other problems too, like aging parts and substandard domestic alloy formulas. The parts suppliers are going to pay dearly for this!” Chen Haiqing wiped down the rifle barrel. The Type 95 rifle didn’t dissipate heat as well as he wanted, and a faint white smoke wafted from the ejection port as the oil evaporated from the heat.

Low-altitude wind shear can manifest as vertical or horizontal shear. Sudden down drafts can lead to loss of control for an aircraft preparing to land at 300 meters, causing crashes that are nearly unavoidable. Such weather phenomena are unpredictable, and issues with aging parts compounded the risks, which would greatly affect the manufacturers.

“Isn’t China’s smelting technology advanced? How could this happen?” Lin Mo was deeply impressed by the metal smelting standards in this vast country, which he thought to be incredibly advanced.

“It’s due to insufficient investment in research and development. Everyone’s copying each other, and in the end, no one improves. Compared to foreign standards, we fall far short! Small differences in processes like heat treatment and forging can accumulate to significant discrepancies,” Chen Haiqing shared his insights with confidence.

“When will we get to resume flight training at the base?” Lin Mo was most concerned about this. His skills with fighter aircraft were gradually improving, and after a few days without holding the control stick, he felt restless. Besides participating in flight training, he had been busy filling the gaps in his flawed knowledge system and relying on fellow students for information.

After blasting away six grenades and scattering grass everywhere—scaring away a few rabbits in the process—Chen Haiqing finally wrapped up, responding to Lin Mo’s question: “Once the accident report is out and those faulty parts are replaced, we can get back in the air. It shouldn’t take more than a week, as the base won’t allow the pilots to remain idle.”

Chen Haiqing suddenly recalled something, saying, “By the end of the month, some of our classmates from aviation university will also leave the ‘big dormitory’ and become officially ranked pilots.”

The “big dormitory” was a term for the shared living quarters devoid of privacy, and everyone longed for their own private room.

“That would be amazing! I can’t wait for them!” Lin Mo nodded eagerly, a smile of encouragement on his face. With a snap, he reloaded a magazine onto his weapon—this was the first good news he had heard all week.

“Hey! Fancy meeting you here! Lin Mo, Chen Haiqing, are you both playing with guns?” At that moment, Lei Dong approached with several other friends, all carrying rifles and magazines.

“Yeah, just emptied two magazines!” Lin Mo smiled and waved, aiming his rifle, but grimaced to see his target already destroyed by Chen Haiqing.

Noticing the two blasted target spots, the others exchanged glances and couldn’t help but laugh: “Come on, let’s switch places and compete—loser pays for dinner tonight!”

“Why not?!” Chen Haiqing raised his gun, switched the empty round for a real magazine.

“Who’s afraid?” Lin Mo rolled his eyes, confidently pulling back the bolt without hesitation.

The sound of guns echoed once more at the range. Without a target reporting system, the open-air shooting range stretched out a hundred meters. There were no dedicated scorekeepers—the goal was to focus on hitting the targets and improving shot accuracy. A volunteer student held binoculars, counting for Chen Haiqing and Lin Mo, while others made side bets.

In the end, Chen Haiqing narrowly triumphed. In everyone’s eyes, he was transformed into a skilled veteran, effortlessly handling the Type 95 automatic rifle. The way he steadied his aim and fired in quick succession, hitting each target with great precision, was nearly textbook perfect.

Compared to him, Lin Mo still had a high hit rate but showed signs of being less practiced. Shooting required not just aiming but also accounting for body strength and wind speed. Though not as precise as a sniper, he still needed considerable experience.

That evening, Lin Mo’s large dinner inevitably drained his wallet, costing him two months’ worth of pay. Although the food like stewed cabbage and luncheon meat wasn’t expensive, it couldn’t stand up to the multitude of opportunists taking advantage of the situation.