Chapter 22: Roger Doubts His Existence

Lin Xinghai felt somewhat embarrassed by his poor marksmanship, but Roger, standing beside him, was left dumbfounded.

"Have you really never touched a gun before?" Roger asked, his face full of suspicion.

One must realize that Lin Xinghai was not shooting at fixed targets; he was not even standing on solid ground, but on a rapidly moving vehicle. Under these conditions, an average novice trying to hit a target fifty meters away would likely see their bullets flying off into the sky. Lin Xinghai’s first shot had been impressive, though it could have been a fluke. But there was no way the three consecutive shots that followed were just blind luck.

"I have not! Why do you ask?" Lin Xinghai replied curiously.

"It's nothing!" Roger swallowed the praise that had been on the tip of his tongue. After a moment of thought, he spoke in a pedagogical tone, "Zombies have a keen intuition for danger; they will instinctively dodge the moment you fire. To hit them, you must predict their movement and lead your shots accordingly."

Lin Xinghai suddenly looked enlightened and fired three more rounds. To his dismay, he discovered that while the theory sounded simple, the actual execution was far from it. His attempts at prediction only caused his bullets to veer even further off target.

"Sigh, this won't do. I have to cheat," Lin Xinghai thought gloomily.

He opened his system interface and spent one point of Blood Qi energy to increase his Basic Shooting proficiency to 20%. Instantly, a surge of realization washed over him, providing him with new insights and ideas on how to aim and fire.

He raised his gun once more, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*

This time, Lin Xinghai fired five consecutive shots. Every bullet landed within a meter of the target zombie, and one even struck the creature's shoulder. It was a significant improvement, yet still fell short compared to the other mercenaries. Based on his observations, even the worst shooter among them had a proficiency equivalent to about 40% of his own skill level, while the best of them were likely at the 60% mark.

As Lin Xinghai compared himself to the others, Roger, standing nearby, was completely stunned. "How are you doing this?" Roger asked, unable to believe his eyes. How many shots had he even fired?

An ordinary person would likely need at least a week of practice to reach this level of proficiency.

"Uh... I just followed your advice and led the targets," Lin Xinghai said. He knew his explanation sounded a bit weak, so he added, "Maybe it’s just talent!"

Hearing this, Roger was so annoyed he didn't want to speak anymore.

Lin Xinghai pulled up the system interface again and tapped the "+" sign next to his proficiency level.

"Ding! Spend 2 points of Blood Qi energy to upgrade?"

"Damn it! The system is always like this; the further you go, the more Blood Qi it costs," Lin Xinghai muttered, but he clicked confirm anyway. There was no helping it—the improvement was substantial, boosting his proficiency by 10% each time. To put it simply: it was worth it.

Looking at his 30% proficiency, Lin Xinghai didn't hesitate to click the "+" sign again. Even if he couldn't stand out too much, he didn't want to be at the bottom, right?

"Ding! Spend 3 points of Blood Qi energy to upgrade?"

As he had guessed, the cost had increased. He chose "Yes" without hesitation. With 3 points of Blood Qi deducted, his Basic Shooting proficiency hit 40%. Now, as he held the gun, he felt a sense of familiarity. He felt that for any target within ten meters, he didn't even need to aim; he could simply raise the weapon and land a hit. This must be what Roger meant by "instinct."

He tapped the "+" sign again, and as expected, it now required 4 points of Blood Qi. If he wanted to, he could push his proficiency to 100% in one go. After considering it, however, he resisted the temptation. For him, the most important thing right now was to improve his overall strength, become a Gene Optimizer, and awaken his abilities. Furthermore, while the cost seemed low, it still had a significant impact on his limited reserves.

Mostly, it was because his current store of Blood Qi was too low.

His Blood Qi had dropped from 63 to 56. Following the system’s pattern, if each subsequent 10% increase cost an additional point of Blood Qi, pushing his proficiency to 100% would cost another 39 points. That would leave him with only 17 points, the same amount he had when he first started. He would have to pace himself.

Besides, Roger’s reaction had already proven that his progress was too startling; he needed to keep a low profile. A 40% proficiency was already sufficient for now. In fact, he even had to deliberately miss shots occasionally to avoid exposing his true level. Of course, maintaining the image of a "genius" was still necessary. He would gradually improve his accuracy, and by the time they reached the city center, displaying 40% proficiency would be just about right.

Roger, unaware of Lin Xinghai’s internal calculations, only saw that every short interval brought a noticeable improvement in Lin Xinghai’s marksmanship. The speed of his progress made him doubt reality.

"I’m so envious it hurts!" Roger could only vent his frustrations on the incoming zombies.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded. Since entering the city limits, the thresholds for the zombie detectors had been recalibrated. It no longer sounded for ordinary zombies; even for mid-level ones, it would only show a signal on the screen rather than blaring.

Lin Xinghai turned to look and saw not a red dot, but a purple one on the screen. Following the indicator, he spotted an exceptionally robust zombie rapidly closing in on the convoy. His pupils contracted—its speed had definitely reached 60 points, far faster than an ordinary zombie.

"A high-level zombie!" he concluded instantly.

"Xu Hao!" Roger, having seen it too, shouted immediately.

"Coming!" Xu Hao, who was shooting on the other side, quickly switched positions and arrived at Roger’s side.

"Same old routine: you focus on the body to slow it down, and I’ll finish it off," Roger said, removing his magazine and slotting in a pitch-black bullet.

It was a special-issue round.