What is the decisive difference between ordinary people and special forces soldiers?

 

There can be as many answers to this question as there are people.

 

Some might point to their strong physical and mental endurance, while others might mention their excellent shooting skills. Perhaps some would discuss the extent of their diverse training.

 

All of those would be correct.

 

And I….

 

───!

 

…would like to add to that list the existence of countless muscle memories that allow one to handle hundreds of different firearms as if they were part of their own body.

 

“Wow… Your grouping is so clean! It’s a pity a shot or two strayed toward the 9-point mark.”

 

…Even if it’s a firearm without a zero, that is.

 

Since the body already remembers the previous zeroing, it’s crucial to achieve the necessary results through instinctive aiming during shooting emergencies.

 

I stared intently at the paper.

 

After confirming the result of the first instinctive aim, I gauged how much more adjustment was necessary.

 

I got a rough idea.

 

“You scored 98 points. So close. All your 9mm shots were bullseyes.”

 

“There won’t be such a mistake in the next round.”

 

After checking the chamber and clearing the gun, I handed it over.

 

He carefully accepted it, performed the same safety check, and gently set aside the MPX he just fired, handing me the next gun.

 

KAC SR-15.

 

Though it’s a civilian model, I wonder how he managed to get his hands on a gun that is only available in the US.

 

­Hsss….

 

I firmly shouldered the rifle and matched my breathing. From the contact point, I felt the unique stock sensation of the AR-15 series.

 

It was so familiar I could draw its image with my eyes closed.

 

If I were to gather all the 5.56mm NATO rounds I’ve fired, wouldn’t they fill up a standard container and then some?

 

The iron sights were ordinary, and aiming at the new target through them was not difficult.

 

I resisted the trigger’s pressure.

 

Soon after, a slight recoil accompanied the bullet piercing the target.

 

…As I focused, I suddenly recalled an old movie I enjoyed.

 

It was one of those movies where Keanu Reeves goes around shooting and wrecking everything, and in that one, he used a custom piece made by TTI.

 

Though I barely remember the details now, I calmly pulled the trigger, motivated by that memory.

 

Regardless of how short or long the interval between the next shot was, one shot to the chest, one shot to the head.

 

Scoring, not to compete with others, but to utterly destroy a single life.

 

…Emerging from my meditative thoughts, I saw a target in front of me with five holes each in the head and chest.

 

“…You really scored 100 points.”

 

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep….”

 

“Wow, sir. If you keep shooting like this, we’ll run out of space to put targets on the wall. You’re better than me, it seems?”

 

“There are still 10 rounds left, so it’s a bit early to say that.”

 

“Wow.”

 

Desert Eagle, 10 rounds.

 

As always, I checked the chamber and performed a safety inspection before accepting today’s final gun.

 

It felt different from a Glock in my grip. I pride myself on having relatively large hands, but there are always exceptions.

 

I gripped it more firmly to avoid any limp wristing.

 

Though I hadn’t fired this much in actual combat, I must have shot hundreds of rounds in engagements.

 

In peacetime, I played around with this gun, testing the 2+1 drill.

 

It was quite satisfying.

 

“It seems you’ve used this gun before….”

 

“I can handle most firearms.”

 

With those words, I carefully inserted one of the magazines loaded with five rounds each and pulled the trigger.

 

───!

 

A powerful recoil shook my body.

 

*

 

9 PM.

 

Shops were closing one by one, heading towards midnight.

 

Among them, a rare place still had its lights on: a live ammunition shooting range.

 

“Jinhyuk hyung. How was it today… Wait, what? Why are you carrying so many targets?”

 

“Just get a ladder from the storage. I need to put these up on the wall.”

 

“What? Did a lot of good shooters come today? Did the people you used to compete with come as a group?”

 

“Just bring the ladder quickly.”

 

Of course.

 

Kim Hojun, another range supervisor and Jinhyuk’s junior, grumbled as he fetched a ladder from the storage.

 

Several years had passed since they started operating this facility, with numerous visitors scattering their spent shells.

 

Among them were some decent shooters, gradually increasing the number of excellent target sheets on the wall.

 

They would take down old ones and put up new ones, sometimes using a ladder to place them high in the lobby.

 

Though they hadn’t used it recently, the well-maintained ladder was set up.

 

Jinhyuk climbed the ladder with several tacks, while Hojun naturally received the targets.

 

Flap.

 

Hojun unfolded one of the seven target sheets, letting out a small gasp.

 

“Wow, this is a fantastic grouping. What caliber is this? .22? 9mm? Was it shot with a Glock?”

 

“That one? Let me see.”

 

“Here.”

 

Another rustling of paper.

 

Without hesitation, he spoke.

 

“That was shot with a Desert Eagle.”

 

“Did you drink?”

 

“Don’t talk nonsense. Want to see the video?”

 

“No, it doesn’t make sense. A civilian scored bullseyes with a .50AE?”

 

“You just didn’t see it, I did.”

 

Even the person who saw it up close couldn’t believe it.

 

It was so unbelievable that telling others about it would be pointless.

 

After much thought, he decided to show the recorded video later and pinned the target on the wall.

 

Next up.

 

“Wow, what’s this? Four shots to the head, six to the chest? Who is this sharpshooter? What was this shot with?”

 

“Let me see… That’s from a Glock 17. Hand it over quickly.”

 

“Look at that consistent grouping. Whoever it is, they can shoot. Are they a professional?”

 

“Just give it to me before I throw a tack at your face.”

 

“Can’t I at least take a look? Once it’s up there, you can’t see it well.”

 

And the amazement didn’t end there.

 

Targets began lining up on the wall.

 

Three from a Glock, one from a Desert Eagle, one from an AR-15. All perfect scores,

 

Only the sheets marked MPX and Glock 17 were waiting to be put up.

 

“MPX 98 points? That’s impressive. Must’ve earned a bonus round. But why put up this 74-point sheet?”

 

“Look closely.”

 

“What’s there to see….”

 

Swish.

 

Hojun quickly noticed that the hit points and groupings clearly indicated something significant.

 

“…Three shots to the head, five to the chest, and two to the neck… Did they intentionally shoot this way? This person is insane! Who are they? A special forces soldier? A Dark Zone ranker?”

 

“I don’t know, I couldn’t even ask.”

 

And if there’s something he couldn’t mention,

 

‘That was even a demonstration in an action shooting style…’

 

2+1 drill.

 

Also known as the Mozambique drill, a shooting technique used for ensuring a kill at close range.

 

She earned a bonus round with the 98 points from the MPX and demonstrated rapid fire with true precision under his supervision,

 

Revealing that rapid fire and accuracy, seemingly incompatible words, could indeed coexist.

 

Sss.

 

“…Oh, hearing you talk like that makes me crave Dark Zone.”

 

“It’s our regular day off tomorrow. Let’s play when we get home.”

 

“Got it. Ah… I forgot to extend the connection rental period.”

 

“Do it on time.”

 

Swish.

 

The tacks went under the counter, the ladder returned to the storage, and after locking the glass door at the shooting range entrance, they secured it with thick iron bars and shutters.

 

As it was a place dealing with firearms, the range turned into a heavily fortified room after hours.

 

“Is everything locked?”

 

“Of course. Go eat first, then do whatever you want when you get back.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Do you still play as that big-breasted character? How do you even manage? Doesn’t the center of gravity mess you up? Not in virtual reality?”

 

“Try it once. It’s surprisingly novel.”

 

“I can’t stand seeing myself with something huge on my chest, you nut.”

 

“Hyung, that’s how everyone starts.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Conversations that the guest who had reset all the range records a few hours ago would never understand.

 

However, the keyword “Dark Zone” they mentioned in passing.

 

Only time would tell what kind of butterfly effect it would bring.

 

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