Moving, Not Stationary

Gao Fei understood what was going on. It wasn't that he liked taking on high difficulty; it was that he hit moving targets, not stationary ones! To test his theory, Gao Fei swiftly adjusted his muzzle, aimed at the dirt clod on the ground once more, and pulled the trigger. He didn't rush this shot. Gao Fei had plenty of time to aim and plenty of time to settle into his shooting stance, but just as he expected, he missed this simple shot. Then he had Glaski toss another dirt clod into the air. The first shot missed, but without waiting for the dirt clod to hit the ground, Gao Fei fired a second shot—and sure enough, the second shot struck home. Normal people—or rather, ninety-nine percent of people—were more accurate against fixed targets, while moving targets were harder. Yet Gao Fei was the exact opposite. Were there people in this world who were better at shooting moving targets while being inaccurate against stationary ones? Yes, but not many; they were exceedingly rare. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? A good thing, but also a bad thing. It was good because in actual combat, no enemy was foolish enough to stand still and let someone shoot them, so engaging moving targets was the most common scenario on the battlefield. However! However! However! Long-range shooting was an entirely different story! It wasn't that you couldn't shoot moving targets at long range, but bullets took time to travel. Against distant moving targets, the difficulty didn't just increase a little—it multiplied exponentially by tens or hundreds of times. For example, the muzzle velocity of a standard 5.45mm round from an AK-74 was 900 meters per second, but small-caliber rounds bled velocity faster, with a point-blank range of about 260 meters. In other words, within 260 meters of leaving the barrel, the bullet's trajectory was virtually a straight line. But once past 260 meters, the bullet began to drop along an arc, its trajectory curving downward. That was why an AK74 became inaccurate past three hundred meters, unless the shooter possessed exceptional skill and could constantly adjust their elevation angle based on distance. Every rifle was like this; the only difference was the length of that point-blank range. At greater distances, the bullet's path inevitably transitioned from a straight line into a curve. Since the flight path changed, hitting a distant target meant that the bullet's arcing trajectory had to intersect with the target's position. To lower the difficulty of scoring a hit at long range, one basically had to shoot at stationary targets—or use an automatic weapon like a machine gun to make continuous adjustments, saturating the target's location with a dense hail of bullets to increase the hit probability. Furthermore, bullets took time to travel. A 5.45mm bullet took roughly a second to reach four hundred meters, and a single second was enough for a person walking at a casual stroll to move two meters away. Even for a sharpshooter, hitting a moving target three hundred meters out with an assault rifle was difficult in the extreme. To hit something four hundred meters away, an optical sight or scope was practically mandatory. At four hundred meters, the naked eye could barely discern a human-sized target. When aiming, a person appeared smaller than the iron sight's front post. Without a scope, how could anyone hit it? This was where the downside of hitting moving targets but missing stationary ones reared its head. Stacking all these factors together, hitting motion rather than stillness essentially meant hitting near rather than far. So for Gao Fei, it was no longer a question of what he wanted, but what he could do. He could only hit targets at close range, not at a distance, and that range was basically capped within two hundred meters. A sharpshooter effective at all ranges was a treasure, but a sharpshooter who could only hit within two hundred meters—well, while still a treasure, his value dropped steeply, basically relegating him to the role of an assaulter. Besides, using a scope was inherently slower than using iron sights; there were no exceptions. Gao Fei's extraordinary dynamic vision would very likely fail to shine when looking through a scope. In other words, Gao Fei possessed god-tier talent against close-range moving targets, but when it came to stationary or distant targets, his talent was merely ordinary. It might even be worse than an ordinary person's. Judging by his performance so far, his accuracy against stationary targets with a handgun was abysmal. That meant the better he was at shooting moving targets, the worse he shot stationary ones. If that were the case, he definitely couldn't become a sniper. Thinking of this possibility, Gao Fei even felt a twinge of dread. What military enthusiast didn't dream of becoming a sniper? Though having one master trick could carry someone a long way, who would settle for excelling in only a single area if they could be strong across the board? It was like Olympic shooting events, divided into 10-meter air pistol, 25-meter pistol, 10-meter air rifle, and 50-meter rifle, not to mention shotgun events like skeet and trap. Most competitive shooters specialized in a single discipline; virtually none excelled at pistols while also mastering rifles. As for an athlete capable of competing in pistols, rifles, and clay pigeons alike—and possessing championship-level caliber in all of them—such a person simply did not exist. After quietly firing a dozen or so rounds with the handgun, Gao Fei gradually confirmed his theory. He was suited to rifles, and he was talented with handguns too, but only against close-range moving targets. He simply couldn't shoot stationary targets well, and long-range targets were completely out of the question. Gao Fei picked up his rifle, aimed at a wooden sign at the edge of his visual range, and took a shot. But at that distance, he couldn't tell if he had hit it or not, making it impossible to observe the results. Sokholov finally couldn't hold back and whispered, "Don't shoot at the sign. Find a metal target. The sound will carry back, so you'll know if you hit it." Battlefields had no shortage of metal targets. Gao Fei spotted a burned-out tank and aimed at the fuel drum on its rear. The distance was roughly two hundred meters, and the size was just right. Gao Fei aimed at the drum and fired, but heard no sound. Two hundred meters was already quite far; a drum roughly the size of a human torso was difficult to sight on. Still, given Gao Fei's marksmanship, he should have been able to hit it. Calming his breathing, he stabilized the rifle and fired a three-round burst. After this burst, Gao Fei still had no idea if he had hit anything. He heard nothing, though his ears were ringing slightly from the gunfire, so not hearing anything was only natural. Glaski said urgently, "Use my machine gun! Fire armor-piercing incendiary rounds. If they hit, there'll be sparks—you'll definitely see it." Fine, he could only switch weapons. Switching guns, switching ammunition, and firing again—all just to verify Gao Fei's shooting characteristics. This time, sparks visibly flickered against the drum on the tank's rear. A hit. Yet as he kept firing, it became clear that Gao Fei didn't hit every time. His marksmanship still fell within the proficient range, but compared to his performance in actual combat, he faded into the crowd. He was merely at the level of a decent shot among ordinary soldiers. Glaski shot about the same, and Sokholov was on the same level as well. Finally, Sokholov sighed with emotion and said, "Only good at moving targets? That's not a bad thing either. Even if you're weaker at long-range targets, it's still plenty good." Gao Fei looked at Sokholov. Sokholov said with mild helplessness, "At a two-hundred-meter fixed target, I can basically guarantee half my rounds hit paper. I feel like... my shooting is about the same as yours." Glaski whispered, "But he hit a target at five hundred meters with a machine gun!" Gao Fei had to tell the truth. He muttered, "A fluke." Glaski said in all seriousness, "Yeah, but I couldn't hit it even on a fluke!" Gao Fei shook his head and murmured, "Does that mean I can't be a sniper?" Glaski looked blank. "I wouldn't know. I don't know the first thing about snipers. Squad Leader, do you?" Sokholov said quietly, "I don't know either. I've never used a sniper rifle. I think we just need to test it with a scoped rifle. Tell the company commander to hurry up and send the gun over." Gao Fei couldn't help asking curiously, "Who knows how long it'll take for the company commander to bring the rifle? Doesn't our company have any snipers? Can't we find someone to ask for advice?" Glaski said helplessly, "Our company used to have two snipers, but they're both dead. The two replacements they sent later were washouts, not much good at all." Sokholov hesitated before saying, "D Company has a pretty skilled sniper, and D Company's positions are right to our right. If he's still alive, he must be nearby." Glaski said eagerly, "I know him! Their sniper is really good, and I know the guy. Should I go ask him now?" "Snipers are all stingy and hate letting anyone touch their rifles," Sokholov cautioned. "Bring a gift. We killed a lot of enemies here, so take some captured spoils along and see if you can borrow his sniper rifle for a test." Gao Fei was curious and worried about where his limits lay, but Sokholov and Glaski were even more curious. These were precisely the kinds of things that mattered on a battlefield. Furthermore, figuring out a comrade's capabilities—especially establishing the boundaries of Gao Fei's immense carry potential—was a matter of life and death for the entire 1st Squad. It wasn't an exaggeration in the least. Gao Fei's combat prowess directly affected everyone's survival in 1st Squad. Stopping an enemy two hundred meters away versus having to let them close within a hundred meters made a world of difference. Glaski was willing to step away from the position and dash over to the friendly lines just to find a sniper and test where Gao Fei's ceiling was. "Then let's try it," Gao Fei told Glaski. "Take a pack of cigarettes, or give him some cash if need be. Move fast—once the drones show up, we won't be able to test-fire anything."