Time flies, and just like that, over ten days of our month-long boot camp had zipped past.


    Thest two days were the highlight: target shooting. It was easily the most exciting part of the training. We used standard-issue automatic rifles, but for safety, our rifles were actually electronic. They gave us the feel of the real deal without the danger. After a few rounds of demos and exnations, it was our turn to practice. The grand finale was aprehensive assessment on thest day.


    We were grouped into sets of ten for our turns. This time around, Lisa and Mirabe were in the same group. A guy in front of them was taking aim and shooting, while Lisa watched eagerly from the sidelines.


    Mirabe stood nearby, ncing briefly at the guy''s aim before looking away. The sun was ring, so she tugged her cap down to shield her forehead, her deep, almond-shaped eyes hidden in the shadow.


    Just then, the guy who had been aiming fired, resulting in a clear shot.


    A few secondster, Lisa''s voice rang out, tinged with disappointment, "Ah... missed again."


    Out of ten people, the first seven had all missed their targetspletely.


    Lisa turned to Mirabe, "Our group isn''t going to end up with zero hits, is it?"


    Mirabe, with her arms crossed and standing tall, simply replied, "Your turn, good luck."


    Lisa touched her nose, intrigued by the shooting practice despite its apparent difficulty.


    The guy next to her loaded the gun and handed it to Lisa.


    Taking the gun, Lisa felt a bit nervous, and when shey on the ground, she hardly knew how to position the rifle.


    Mirabe nced at her, then took a few steps forward, crouching next to her, her voice calm and steady, "Hold the barrel up with your left hand, rest the butt against your right shoulder... your index finger should be on the trigger guard, align the sights, and aim."


    Despite Mirabe''s guidance, Lisa still fumbled around for a while before barely managing to position the gun correctly; as for aligning the sights... she waspletely lost.


    JMS


    The result was as expected-aplete miss.


    Getting up from the ground, Lisa had a crestfallen expression, "...Am I really that bad?"


    Mirabe watched her quietly. Missing the basic twenty-five-meter drill was beyond mere clumsiness.


    Seeing Mirabe''s silence, Lisa knew she hadn''t performed well and sighed, handing the gun to Mirabe, "Your turn."


    Mirabe raised an eyebrow, cheekily remarking, "Let me show you how it''s done."


    Lisa''s mouth twitched, ying along, "Please, enlighten me."


    Howard, from the next group who had just finished their first round of shooting, came over to watch and couldn''t help butugh at Mirabe and Lisa''s banter.


    He had never seen girls act this way, even calling each other "dad"? Ridiculous.


    He thought he was good because his family was well-off, and he had gone shooting with ssmates in high school and had practiced since, making him the best in their group.


    He stood by, leisurely waiting to see how Mirabe would impress.


    Mirabe, with swift movements, loaded five bullets into the magazine, set it to rapid-fire, and assumed her position. She nced at the target, theny down on the ground.


    Lisa was already impressed by Mirabe''s professional-looking preparations, and when Mirabe was adjusting her angle, she


    couldn''t help but ask, "Have


    you


    swnovel


    done shooting practice before?"