As he turned, in a spot he thought no one could see, he deliberately tampered with the rifle''s sight.


    Juniper caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and let out a soft, derisive chuckle. What a joke. This was actually making herugh. She took the rifle he offered and sauntered toward the shooting tform.


    Since they had agreed to a rematch in a matter of minutes, the instructor had little choice but to allow it.


    Afraid his nerves would get the better of him, the boy insisted on starting immediately.


    "Fine," Juniper said, taking a seat on a nearby chair without another word.


    "Bang. Bang. Bang."


    The boy fired each shot with extreme caution, taking a full five minutes to finish. His scores were an eight, another eight, and a seven-even better than his previous round. He let out a sigh of relief and shot Juniper a triumphant look. He had intentionally misaligned the sight on his rifle; he refused to believe she could still score perfectly with a faulty weapon.


    Juniper stood up and walked calmly to the shooting position.


    "If you admit you were wrong now and forfeit the rematch, maybe faint like Ynda did, I''ll y along and won''t hold this against you," the boy offered, his voice dripping with condescension. After all, Juniper was the top scorer on the university entrance exam and quite attractive. He could afford to be a gentleman.


    Juniper turned her head slightly, a cold glint shing in her eyes. "Did one of your bullets go astray?" she asked, her face impassive.


    "What?" The boy blinked, not understanding.


    "I think it must have," she continued, a smirk ying on her lips. "Otherwise, why would you be talking as if your brain had been hit?"


    "You" Realizing he''d been insulted, the boy clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward. If they weren''t on the training grounds, he would have taught her a lesson.


    "You''d better hope you can win," he snarled, retreating to the side.


    The targets were reset. Instead of raising the rifle immediately, Juniper turned to the instructor. "Can we switch to moving targets?"


    "What?" The instructor thought he''d misheard her. Moving targets? Was she joking? Hitting moving targets required the skill of a seasoned soldier.


    "Moving targets," Juniper repeated firmly. "Since someone here doesn''t believe I can hit a ten, there''s no way to cheat on a moving target, right?"


    The boy standing nearby felt his world tilt. Moving targets? He''d be lucky to even hit the backboard. And Juniper was brazenly requesting them? The nerve!


    "Alright," the instructor said, rubbing his chin. He was also curious to see the limits of this young girl''s abilities. Her performance on the obstacle cours@had been extraordinary f she could handle moving targets as wall, on top of being brilliant. A talent like that was exactly what the country should be investing in.


    "Switch to moving targets!" hemanded.


    At his order, the other students craned their necks, staring at Juniper in disbelief. Moving targets? That was something they''d only


    seen in movies. Was Junipe really


    that skilled?


    The moving targets were set in motion. Juniper raised the rifle and, without a


    moment''s hesitation, fired three shots.


    "Bang, bang, bang." It was over in three seconds.


    "Did she hit them? Did she hit


    them?


    Qu


    anything?" the boy demanded, turning anxiously to the instructor The targets had been fast, and Junipers shots had been even faster. All he''d seen were three brief puffs of smoke; the targets themselves were a blur.


    The other students held their breath, waiting for the verdict. These were moving targets, after all. Forget a bullseye-if she even managed to hit the target, they would be in awe.