Didn’t I Shoot Pretty Accurately?

Whether using kinetic energy or directed energy as a killing method, anti-materiel weapons all shared the same trait—tremendous power.

The bullets or energy they consumed were staggering.

A normal power cell, when used in a standard laser machine gun, would usually cause the weapon to overheat long before its energy was drained.

But with an anti-materiel sniper rifle, it was different.

Ye Lan had only fired five shots, yet the cell was already depleted.

At the same time, the sniper rifle itself had entered cooldown.

“Hiss—”

Steam from the coolant hissed out from the scalding barrel.

Even through the protective handguard, Ye Lan could feel the waves of heat radiating outward.

Directed-energy weapons had their flaws.

Overheating too easily was one of them.

“Let’s go, Lixiao.”

Ye Lan motioned to Su Lixiao, leading her down the tower’s staircase with him.

“Coming!”

Su Lixiao followed closely, still amazed at what had just happened.

“You actually hit them.”

Ye Lan put on a facade of indifference.

“Just dumb luck.”

But inside, his heart was trembling, his hands were shaking—he could hardly believe his own accuracy.

Two hits out of five shots… didn’t I actually shoot pretty well?

A 40% hit rate.

That was no small feat.

Those had been Mach-5 missiles, after all.

It was enough to make Ye Lan half suspect he had some kind of targeting hack switched on.

But the reality was simple: those four cruise missiles had flown in perfectly straight lines.

If they’d been trying to penetrate a professional anti-air defense net, not one of them would have made it through.

They had chosen speed over maneuverability, and that gave Ye Lan his opening.

“Are you really Ye Lan?”

Su Lixiao’s eyes sparkled like stars, as though she had just discovered something wondrous.

“Should I be saying—after three days apart, one must look at you with new eyes?”

“Hardly.”

Ye Lan gave an awkward smile.

“Just lucky.”

He didn’t want to dwell on this topic any further—for fear his cover might slip.

Just as he was about to quicken his pace down the stairs, Su Lixiao suddenly leaned in close.

She brought her face near his, sniffing audibly.

“Sniff sniff~”

“Eh? What are you doing?”

The sudden intimacy caught Ye Lan off guard, and he quickly backed away.

Su Lixiao said, “I’m checking if you’ve been swapped out.

Because the Ye Lan I know was just a lazy slob waiting around for death.”

“And the result?” Ye Lan asked.

“No swap,” Su Lixiao replied matter-of-factly.

Ye Lan rolled his eyes.

What kind of strange game was this?

“Alright.”

His tone turned serious.

“It’s getting dark. We need to find your weapon quickly.”

They had already wasted too much time in the skirmish.

And with the sun dipping lower, the light was fading fast.

Who knew what dangers might lurk once night fell.

“Okay, okay, don’t rush me.”

Su Lixiao skipped along happily—sometimes walking ahead, sometimes falling behind.

She looked genuinely pleased.

Maybe she was just glad Ye Lan wasn’t a useless bum after all.

Ye Lan sighed inwardly.

He wasn’t sure whether he was lamenting her carefree nature, or condemning his own past-life failures.

“Anyway…”

Su Lixiao suddenly stopped, turned, and looked him straight in the eye.

“If I don’t have a weapon, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

Her gaze was bright, serious, and unwavering.

Ye Lan knew this wasn’t something he could brush aside.

“Yes. I will.”

He nodded firmly, without hesitation.

This time, he would not fail again.

…

When the last rays of the star vanished from the horizon, half of Beacon Star’s surface descended into night.

Night—the paradise of ambushers.

In the pitch-black ruins, where one couldn’t see their hand in front of their face, lone wanderers were easy prey.

Especially freshmen without night-vision gear.

In the dark, they were like chicks waiting to be slaughtered, oblivious to the venomous snakes slithering nearby.

For the weak, grouping up seemed the only option.

But in truth, a better choice was to “seek shelter.”

The LPB Hunting Week—the Soul-Slaying Military Academy’s first large-scale event linking freshmen with upperclassmen—naturally involved countless student societies.

Societies were groups formed by students around shared interests, officially recognized by the school.

They gathered like-minded peers together to study, learn, and grow.

Every year, graduating students meant that societies lost members.

So each year, they needed fresh blood.

Even long-standing elite societies never spared effort in promoting themselves and recruiting newcomers.

LPB Hunting Week was the perfect opportunity.

Societies could send members to escort freshmen safely back to the academy.

Even if the freshmen didn’t immediately join, the societies that helped them would leave a favorable impression—making recruitment easier later.

But with so many societies holding the same idea, and only a few hundred freshmen available, competition was fierce.

Too many wolves, too little meat.

Thus, territory became the heart of LPB.

Before clashing with rivals, each society first needed to establish a secure stronghold.

A stronghold could be anything—a fortress, a bunker, even just a building or an open space.

The school crest map had shown Su Lixiao’s gear in a basement, beneath a fairly intact building.

An intact structure in the ruined city was rare—suspiciously so.

Ye Lan had been doubtful back then.

Now, his suspicions were confirmed.

The basement lay beneath a five-story building.

Not a ruin, but a fortress.

It might once have been fragile and crumbling.

But after reinforcement, armored plating, and shield installations, it now stood like an unshakable bastion.

“This’ll be tough.”

Ye Lan peered through his sniper scope, using infrared night vision.

Most windows were sealed off, with gun barrels poking from the openings that remained.

Each floor had patrols—soldiers in exoskeleton suits, all with night-vision goggles.

And who knew what kind of heavy hitters might be waiting inside.

Ye Lan deduced there had to be someone stronger inside.

The reason?

The banner hanging from the building’s side.

A blue background, with two wings spread wide.

This was the mark of one of the academy’s top three societies—Wings of Fran.

Ye Lan dared not get too close.

At such range, he would be detected instantly.

So he chose a vantage point two kilometers away.

Even then, he never lingered on the scope for long.

He constantly adjusted, wary that the faint glint of his optics might give him away.

Against such a fortress bristling with weapons, sneaking in for gear was nearly impossible.

And Su Lixiao was no longer by his side.

That meant only one thing—she had already gone.

Maybe we should just give up on the equipment.

That was the first thing Ye Lan had said when he saw the Wings of Fran stronghold.

Rationally, it wasn’t worth it.

Better to abandon the gear than make enemies of such a power.

But Su Lixiao had replied: “You said you’d protect me.”

Since she had entrusted him with her back, Ye Lan could only meet her expectations—by seeing the mission through.

“There are two guards on the first floor patrol.

They pause at the corner—cycle time two minutes.

Third floor, left-hand side, third window—faint heat signature.

Likely a sniper.

Avoid his line of sight.

Fourth floor, second window from the right—heavy heat signals, many people inside.

Could be a meeting… or a trap.”

One by one, Ye Lan marked the targets he observed.

His school crest relayed these updates onto the tactical map.

The crest’s onboard computer then transmitted the intel to Su Lixiao’s crest in real time.

This way, she could move stealthily while staying aware of the building’s situation.

He could have dictated all this via voice-to-text.

But he chose the map method instead, to avoid disrupting her infiltration.

The school crest was incredibly versatile—a high-performance personal computer in its own right.

But most students, even after graduation, barely scratched the surface of its functions.

Through his scope, Ye Lan saw movement on the fourth floor—the room glowing with heat signatures.

A young man stepped out onto the balcony.

He wore a deep-blue robe.

On his chest gleamed not only the academy crest, but also a purple badge bearing the Wings of Fran insignia.

Purple signified noble rank within the society.

Paired with his refined features, his identity was obvious.

Cui Yunfan.

Second seat of the Wings of Fran.

Commander of their western front during LPB.

A master of tactics and troop deployments—though his ability type remained unknown.

Though he was the brain of the group, he also possessed an acute sense for killing intent.

He could detect enemies with unnerving sharpness.

Rumor had it he had once ranked on the Sky Dome’s command charts—though later removed due to lack of combat participation.

To Ye Lan, Cui Yunfan was something of a peer.

But being peers didn’t mean they had to be enemies.

And Ye Lan had no intention of provoking such a major society.

Still, he found Cui Yunfan’s behavior puzzling.

The man leaned casually against the balcony rail, scanning the night as if admiring the scenery.

But Ye Lan didn’t believe a man of such intellect would indulge in leisure under these circumstances.

Fishing, maybe?

He suspected Cui Yunfan was baiting—using himself as lure to draw out hidden predators in the dark.

And his suspicion was confirmed by Cui Yunfan’s lips.

“Since you’re here, come out.”

Ye Lan couldn’t hear the words at this distance.

But he could read lips.

And Cui Yunfan wasn’t speaking to him.

Nor to Su Lixiao.

Clearly, there were plenty of others stalking the Wings of Fran.