Rebirth at the Start: This Fate is Too Explosive!

Chapter 383 A powerful man shines wherever he is!

The instructor placed a heavy German HK P30 pistol in Ye Fan's hand.

The cold, metallic touch instantly travels to the palm of your hand, carrying a heavy, heart-pounding sense of power.

The matte coating on the gun body gleamed faintly under the spotlight, and the anti-slip texture of the grip rubbed against the fingertips.

For Ye Fan, his knowledge of firearms was limited to the famous models (AK, M4) in games like CS and PUBG. This was his first close encounter with real live-fire weapons in both his lives.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the novelty and a hint of nervousness in his heart. Following the instructor's guidance, he adjusted his stance, gripped the gun handle with both hands, and gently placed his index finger on the cold trigger.

Through the goggles, my gaze focused on the stationary circular target paper a dozen meters away.

The desire to "shoot" by clicking the mouse countless times in front of the computer in my past life has finally transformed into the real touch of my fingertips and the imminent roar.

Adrenaline began to be secreted quietly, and a feeling mixed with excitement and awe filled my chest.

He pulled the trigger steadily...

"Bang--!"

The enormous recoil slammed into my wrists and shoulders, far beyond what I had imagined!

The gun barrel burst forth with a dazzling flash of light and a deafening roar (clearly audible even through earmuffs), and the smell of gunpowder instantly filled the nostrils.

The loud noise and impact made Ye Fan's body tremble slightly, and his heart suddenly raced.

This is... what live-fire shooting feels like!

The immense recoil made Ye Fan's wrist go numb, the gun barrel tilted upwards, and the smell of gunpowder was pungent.

He stared intently at the target paper in the distance.

It's spotless, without a single bullet hole!

Ye Fan couldn't help but frown.

This thing is definitely not as simple as it looks!

He instantly understood that behind the marksmanship of those soldiers who could hit a target from a hundred paces was the muscle memory cultivated through countless hours of sweat.

A firsthand experience is far more meaningful than clicking a mouse in a game, allowing you to truly appreciate the weight of countless trials and tribulations.

Despite the unfavorable start, the primal impact of metal striking his shoulder blade, the deafening roar, and the lingering smell of gunpowder in the air stimulated his nerves like an electric current, bringing an almost instinctive excitement.

"No wonder it's something that makes men's blood boil..." he thought to himself.

Under the calm and professional guidance of the instructor ("lower your wrist, press your thumb firmly, stabilize your breathing... three points in a line, pre-press the trigger...").

Ye Fan adjusted his posture, held his breath, and pulled the trigger again.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Several gunshots rang out in succession.

Most of the bullets still missed the target, whistling away and disappearing without a trace.

However, three shots were lucky enough to hit the target: two hit the five rings on the edge, and one was slightly better, hitting the six rings.

Thanks to his superhuman physical abilities and core strength, Ye Fan's grip on the gun was exceptionally stable.

He learns very quickly, adjusting, feeling, and adapting with each shot.

Muscle memory is forming rapidly, and the prediction of recoil is becoming more and more accurate.

at last.

After a near-perfect breathing rhythm and aim lock—

"Bang!"

After the gunshot, a fresh bullet hole was clearly visible in the instructor's binoculars, right in the heart.

Rings 10!

"Beautiful! A perfect ten ring!" The instructor's voice carried a hint of approval.

Ye Fan himself was somewhat surprised. Was it skill or luck? Perhaps it was a combination of both.

"Oh! My hero!" Irina's icy blue eyes lit up instantly, and she clapped and praised without reservation, a surprised smile blooming on her cool face.

"Ye! I knew you were the best! A strong man shines wherever he is!" Valentina's cheers were even more unrestrained and passionate. Her emerald eyes were fixed on Ye Fan, burning with undisguised admiration and... a deeper longing.

Her words were clearly pointed, reflecting on the events of last night and this morning...

Compared to the reserved and demure nature of Chinese women, Valentina from Latin America fully embodies the instinct to admire strength.

Ye Fan's astonishing "combat prowess" displayed in the "private sphere" had already won them over, and his precise shot at the shooting range at this moment pushed their admiration to a new level.

Handsome, wealthy men with such "all-around" strengths are fatally attractive to them.

Ye Fan simply smiled and didn't respond much to this fervent admiration.

Men's fascination with weapons is innate, and he enthusiastically switched to an AK-47 rifle.

Under the instructor's guidance, he quickly mastered the basic operation of this legendary weapon.

But when he actually pulled the trigger and fired in bursts, the violent recoil was like a wild horse galloping, the muzzle bounced violently, making his hands go numb and his shoulders ache, a completely different experience from using a pistol!

Immersed in the thrill of this intertwining of metal and power, Ye Fan played for a full half hour.

Only when his arm muscles ached and went numb, making it almost impossible to lift them, did he reluctantly remove his earmuffs and goggles and leave the smoke-filled shooting area.

As soon as I pushed open the heavy soundproof door of the shooting range and stepped out with a faint smell of gunpowder, I bumped into Wang Congcong, who looked dejected and was rubbing his temples.

"Old Ye!" Wang Congcong called out weakly, his voice hoarse as if he were hungover.

His eyes were puffy, and he looked visibly tired: "I woke up and found you were all gone. I asked around and found out you all came here. Did you have fun?"

"Not bad," Ye Fan said with a smile, stretching his aching arms. "It was quite enjoyable."

Wang Congcong looked Ye Fan up and down, her eyes filled with undisguised envy and a hint of disbelief: "Tsk tsk tsk, you young people have such abnormal recovery abilities! You still have the energy to come here and shoot for half an hour?"

He pointed inside the shooting range, then, remembering something, pursed his lips and said, "I ran into Lao Fang and Lao Qin in the rest area just now. They went in and touched the guns for less than five minutes before complaining of arm pain and leaving, saying they were going to get some tonics to recover. You're really something else!"

Ye Fan waved his hand, his tone carrying a Versailles-esque humility: "Well, it's alright. It's mainly because it's my first time playing, so I'm really excited. Unlike them, they're all seasoned veterans; they've probably already gotten bored."

His relaxed tone and upright posture contrasted sharply with Wang Congcong's listlessness.

Seeing Wang Congcong's hesitant and somewhat dejected expression, Ye Fan asked directly, "Did you come all this way to see me? Is there something you need?"

"Well, there's something I'd like to talk to you about?" Wang Congcong didn't hide anything and spoke frankly.

"Sure," Ye Fan readily agreed.

He rubbed his slightly aching stomach and headed towards the restaurant first. "Let's talk as we walk? After a whole morning of running around, I'm really hungry. It's lunchtime."

"No problem! Let's eat and chat!" Wang Congcong immediately followed suit, as if she had found a good way to divert attention.