SDMA 14

Chapter 14

Although it wasn’t the brutal training Chloe had vaguely imagined—shooting at moving humans as targets—even placing someone right beside the target was horrifying enough.

Chloe desperately hoped the “switched rifle” was not actually a real rifle.

Especially since the despicable bastard grinning smugly beside her would very likely pretend to “accidentally” shoot her square in the head instead of the target.

“Why don’t you go first?”

“Why don’t you go?”

Theodore naturally pushed Chloe’s back. Of course, Chloe, determined not to be tricked twice, braced her legs and pushed back to shove him forward—

“FIVE SECONDS!”

The one-eyed instructor’s roar made her feet move before she realized it. A habit she simply couldn’t fight.

She stuck herself right next to the target as instructed. Clack, clack, clack—teeth chattering came from her right. Who was their partner to make them tremble like that?

She narrowed her eyes to examine the partner of the recruit to her right and spotted silver-gray hair. Well, better a lunatic than a snake.

“Want to switch partners?”

The moment Chloe whispered the offer, the recruit saw who Chloe’s partner was and violently shook his head. Looked like he’d had his supply rucksack looted by Theodore’s gang.

Perhaps comforted that his own partner wasn’t as bad as Chloe’s, the recruit regained his calm expression.

Until now, a missed shot only meant enduring a few curses from the instructor. But that had changed.

The moment your aim wavered, the bullet hit your partner.

Realizing their partner’s life was literally in their hands, the recruits who had been casually shooting earlier suddenly became serious. Even that overly confident Rozelyn wiped her arrogant smile.

Except for two men in front of Chloe.

Altair aimed at the target with an uninterested expression, while Theodore kept that punchable smile on his face—and kept his eyes on Chloe, not the target.

“Begin firing!”

Bang—!

The paint round fired by Theodore exploded only a fingertip away from Chloe’s arm.

He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?

Chloe raised an eyebrow and glared at him.

She knew the bastard had good aim. She’d watched him shoot everything into the 10-point circle except for one 9-point shot.

And now that she knew these weren’t real bullets but paint rounds, she wasn’t going to flinch at his intimidation.

Still, having a paint round explode right next to her arm for the second time wasn’t pleasant. Especially because she knew exactly why he was doing it.

Third shot.

The paint round burst dangerously close to the edge of the target. If he’d been off by even a little, it would have hit her arm instead.

Red paint splattered onto her uniform sleeve.

Just then, as Chloe clicked her tongue, she saw someone walking toward Theodore—Altair, who casually grabbed Theodore by the back of the neck and shoved him back to his spot.

Then Altair calmly aimed at Chloe’s target.

Three consecutive shots rang out. All hit dead center.

How long is he planning to pay back a favor he didn’t even know I gave him?

Since Altair monopolized the remaining six shots, Theodore lost all chance to continue his sleazy intimidation.

Finally, it was time to switch roles. Like Altair had done, Chloe naturally swapped places with her neighbor.

She planned to properly show Theodore the shooting skills of a true elite—something he couldn’t trample on.

Chloe smirked at him as he stood beside the target, then aimed her muzzle at the target’s center.

And the moment the order to fire was given, she sharply shifted her aim. Her finger didn’t hesitate.

Bang!

The paint round didn’t even graze the target.

Instead, it sliced through the air right beneath Theodore’s earlobe. There wasn’t even wind, but his hair fluttered.

Feeling the heat against his jaw and ear, Theodore instinctively touched his cheek and neck, staring at Chloe with a stunned expression before his knees gave out and he collapsed.

“I didn’t think you’d be moved to the point of collapsing from my skill.”

Chloe shrugged and pulled the trigger again.

Next was his neck. Once again, the paint round missed the target completely and narrowly grazed the space between his jawline and throat.

Realizing that moving would increase his chance of being hit, Theodore clenched his fists and froze like a statue.

Wow. At the Royal Central Military Academy, this would’ve been immediate expulsion. As expected of Northport. Of course they allow this kind of maniac nonsense.

Chloe inwardly admired herself for demonstrating elite marksmanship in what she considered the typical “delinquent” way.

What she didn’t realize was that the actual delinquents around her—all true Northport maniacs—were staring at her in shock.

“Hey, you little bastard! Where the hell are you aiming?! I told you to hit the target—why are you hitting me?! Am I the target now?! Huh?!”

Just then, Rozelyn’s furious screaming—after being shot by Marielle’s stray paint round—drew everyone’s attention.

Because of that, Chloe lost her one and only chance to adjust her wildly incorrect assumptions about “average Northport behavior.”

After landing the remaining shots dead-center on the target, Chloe offered Theodore her hand with a kind smile.

He flinched, clenched his teeth, ignored her hand, and forced himself up alone.

Though Chloe’s uniform was stained with red paint while Theodore’s was perfectly clean, he was clearly the one who looked like he’d been thoroughly beaten.

“It’s a bit disappointing they’re not real rifles. Don’t you think so too?”

She asked kindly. But to Theodore and everyone listening, her words automatically translated to:

“It’s a shame I couldn’t fire a real bullet at your skull.”

This was the moment Chloe’s reputation upgraded from annoying delinquent to complete psycho delinquent.

With the final 250-meter live-fire training complete, basic military training was finally over.

Starting the next day, they would attend lectures in classrooms.

Chloe preferred real combat over boring lectures, but after facing Northport’s insane training… she suddenly longed for the comfort of a classroom.

“Ughhh… I’m dying…”

Exhausted from nonstop extreme training, everyone collapsed at the campsite groaning.

Thanks to Class 87 tirelessly hauling trash to the dump, their living area had finally gone from a garbage den back to an empty lot.

But their lives hadn’t exactly improved—sleeping on trash had merely become sleeping on dirt.

Chloe had spent two days combing the grounds and even rummaging through the junkyard for materials to build a temporary shelter, but all she’d found were a few wooden planks.

She shook her hand-washed, damp uniform and planned her next steps.

Tomorrow after lectures, I should look around campus for usable materials.

And maybe pick up some intel to report upward.

With basic training over, the harshest period for recruits had ended—they’d finally have a bit of breathing room.

“How long do I have to keep shaking this…?”

“Until it’s dry, idiot. Put it on the ground damp and it’ll get covered in dirt.”

Rozelyn’s uniform—covered in paint earlier—was being washed and self-dried by Marielle, who had caused the paint mess.

That was why they both had to dry their uniforms manually despite having one spare set.

“Damn it, tomorrow I’m spending 5 points no matter what to eat meat. Just eating bread won’t make these bruises fade.”

Rozelyn grumbled as she rubbed her purple bruises—courtesy of two paint rounds Marielle shot at her.

“Wasn’t the 2-point dish meat?”

“That dry, shriveled stuff? Hell no. I’d rather spend more points for the daily special.”

“You’re spending 5 points on one meal?”

“What, you gonna hoard them until they rot? I still have 6 left. Might as well use them.”

Some recruits nearby eyed the group with uneasy suspicion at their conversation.

That night.

When the campsite’s lights went out and everyone lay down, a quiet shadow moved through the still darkness.

The figure tiptoed toward sleeping Rozelyn like a sneaky rat. It groped around the ground, then gently lifted the uniform jacket covering Rozelyn.

As the intruder glanced at her face and reached toward her chest—

“What are you doing?”

Lavender-colored eyes stared directly at her from the darkness.