Not Hard

Normally, a person discovered their talent first and then put it to use. In Gao Fei's case, things were reversed: he had already used the talent, and only now was he figuring out what it actually was. Glaski had gone off to find someone, which shouldn't take too long. Even so, waiting for just that short stretch felt excruciating to Gao Fei. It was like waiting to sit for an exam—eager anticipation mixed with a trace of dread. Right at that moment, Gao Fei heard a joyful shout. It was Andrey yelling. Who knew what he had found? "Phones. He found some phones," Sokholov said. He had instructed that any phones found be brought over immediately. The Ukrainians had occupied this position for quite a while, so there were bound to be plenty of people with phones. Because of that, Sokholov wasn't particularly surprised, and by now he didn't even care all that much about them. Andrey came jogging over carrying a helmet. Addressing Sokholov, he said, "I found four phones! This one is fully charged, and it's an iPhone 14. I even unlocked it!" The helmet Andrey carried held a whole assortment of items. A thick stack of banknotes was crushed under everything else at the bottom, topped by gold rings, necklaces, and similar trinkets. Resting on the very top were three phones, while the newest and best one was held in Andrey's hand. Sokholov casually took the phone, glanced at it, swiped the screen twice, and handed it over to Gao Fei. "Found you a good one." The iPhone 14 had only been released in August 2022 and was far from cheap. Looting war trophies was certainly exciting, but only up to a point. Changing the passcode required entering the old one, and there was no way Gao Fei could ever know what it was. The original owner was dead, so where could he even ask? As for flashing the operating system, who on earth wiped phone firmware in the middle of a Russo-Ukrainian battlefield? So it would only be good for making a call or two right now. Given enough time, once the screen locked itself, the device would turn into a brick. He couldn't very well camp out next to a corpse and keep unlocking it with a dead man's face or finger whenever he wanted to use it. Because of that, Gao Fei actually preferred an old folks' phone that didn't need any unlock code. With genuine regret, Gao Fei said, "It's nice, but it doesn't suit me. An old folks' phone would be best." Sokholov asked, puzzled, "What's an old folks' phone?" "Just an old-style phone that only makes and receives calls. Not a smartphone." A look of realization washed over Sokholov's face, and he chuckled. "An old folks' phone? What an amusing way to put it. Actually, there are plenty of those around. Andrey, see if you've got one of those old-style phones." Andrey paused for a second, then fished another phone out of the helmet. "Nokia 105." They really had one! This time, Gao Fei was thoroughly thrilled. He stepped forward quickly and took the phone. "Now this is what I need. Thanks." Andrey couldn't speak much English, and Gao Fei couldn't speak Russian. Any communication between them required a translator, and Sokholov naturally stepped into that role. Seeing how excited Gao Fei was, Andrey hesitated for a moment before finally whispering to Sokholov, "Could I make a phone call? Could you let me keep a phone too?" Sokholov considered it for a second. "You can make a call, and I can give you a phone. But do you know what you should and shouldn't do?" "I know, I know! I'll keep it well hidden. Thank you, boss. You're a great boss." Overjoyed, Andrey headed back to continue scouring for loot. Sokholov let out a breath and turned to Gao Fei. "Now you can call home. Having that phone will make things a lot easier." "Yeah. I'll make the call in a bit." Sokholov went on, "It's on a Ukrainian SIM card, so you need to be careful. Hmm, how should I put this... pay attention to incoming numbers. If it's a number you don't recognize, it's best not to answer. Picking up a call from a dead man's family feels pretty damn weird." Gao Fei froze for a second. Right. This phone had been taken off a dead body. There was every chance a wife, parent, or close friend might call. Answering that would feel bizarre indeed. "Yeah, got it." The tension of waiting for Glaski to borrow a rifle from a sniper was broken. Gao Fei looked down at the basic phone in his hands, no longer feeling nervous. Instead, he started turning over in his mind when it would be best to make that call home. Just then, Glaski came trotting back in a hurry. "The sniper's coming. At first he refused to come over. He was willing to help, but he wanted us to go to their position to test the rifle. I figured that was a bit risky, so I promised him three hundred euros, and then he agreed. He'll be here any second." Gao Fei had assumed Glaski would appeal to camaraderie to convince a friendly soldier to help out. He hadn't expected Glaski to hire a private tutor for three hundred euros. Three hundred euros was by no means cheap, but this was hardly the time to fuss over details. Gao Fei began digging through his pockets. He had cash on him—the bounty from last time was still tucked away in his clothes. Sokholov looked at him strangely. "What are you doing?" "Getting the money." Sokholov shook his head. "You don't need to pay out of pocket. It comes out of today's haul. Glaski!" Glaski immediately called over to Andrey, "Andrey, how much cash have you found?" "Roughly two thousand US dollars, a few hundred euros, and tens of thousands of hryvnias!" "Bring over three hundred dollars." Whenever money was found, Andrey was made to hold onto it. No matter who scavenged cash, it had to be handed over to Andrey right away and kept in the helmet he carried. That was because only Andrey was a recruit from the penal battalion. They could search Andrey later without hesitation, and if he dared pocket anything, he'd be in for a savage beating if he wasn't killed outright. If a member of 1st Squad were put in charge of holding the cash, Sokholov could hardly subject them to a thorough body search. There was an art to deciding who cleared the battlefield and who temporarily collected and safeguarded the small valuables. Andrey came running back with the helmet. He fished out three hundred-dollar bills, and Sokholov took the cash, telling him, "Keep clearing the field." Andrey promptly scampered back to work. Gao Fei realized that this fellow Andrey was actually quite useful. Even though he was reckless and impulsive, he followed orders; he looked menacing, yet when ordered about, he acted very much like a loyal lackey. It was contradictory, but the impression was undeniable. Curious, Gao Fei asked, "What kind of rifle does this sniper use?" "An SVD." Gao Fei had never handled a sniper rifle before, but he knew them inside and out on paper. The SVD—the Dragunov—was the most ubiquitous sniper rifle in Russia. Although billed as a sniper rifle, limitations in its scope and inherent precision restricted its effective range to around six hundred meters. Many people considered the SVD to be nothing more than a designated marksman rifle; the true high-end Russian sniper rifle these days was supposed to be the T-5000. Still, an SVD was an SVD. One couldn't expect just any frontline sniper to be carrying high-end hardware like a T-5000. They didn't have to wait long. A man in combat fatigues came striding into their trench. He wore a rucksack with an assault rifle strapped horizontally across the top, while holding a sniper rifle in his hands, its scope wrapped in cloth. In truth, that was a bit of self-deception. Wrapping the scope in cloth wouldn't stop a drone from identifying it as a sniper rifle, and he would still be targeted for priority strikes. "I'm pressed for time, so you'd better make it quick." The sniper looked rushed the moment he arrived. He couldn't help glancing up at the sky, then continued hurriedly, "Move fast while there are no drones around. As soon as the electronic jamming ends, I'm heading straight back." Sokholov immediately stepped forward and handed over the cash. "Three hundred dollars." No wasted words, no polite pleasantries. Cash on one side, rifle on the other. "Take it. It's zeroed at two hundred meters, scope is dialed in, just shoot." Glaski chimed in at once, "It's not just using the gun—you have to teach him." "I know! Hurry up, get started!" Gao Fei stepped up and received the rifle. He unwrapped the camouflage cloth covering the scope and looked over at the sniper. "Do you know how to use it?" "I do... er, actually, no." At first Gao Fei felt he knew how to shoot a sniper rifle, but he suddenly decided it was better to be modest. Knowledge picked up from the internet wasn't entirely reliable; he was better off building proper fundamentals. "When using a sniper rifle, first you have to judge the range accurately. You only get precision if the range is exact. Look at that tank—the distance is..." "Two hundred and ten meters." Gao Fei wasn't trying to show off; his mouth had simply moved faster than his thoughts. The sniper squinted to take a careful look, then nodded. "Fine, you've already ranged it. Two hundred meters is a very common engagement distance. With a two-hundred-meter zero, hold under by one mil for anything under a hundred meters, point-blank between one and two hundred, and hold over by one mil for every fifty meters beyond that." This sniper might be a decent shot, but he was definitely a terrible teacher. If Gao Fei had to rely on instruction like that, it would be a miracle if he learned a thing. It was far too brief. Still, Gao Fei only wanted to see whether he could land hits with an optical scope, not train to become a sniper right this second. Gao Fei lifted the rifle, rested it flat on the parapet, and looked directly into the scope. Why was there only a bright spot in the center? While the reticle lines were visible, the periphery was completely dark, and the field of view looked exceptionally narrow. "Back off a little. Don't press your eye right against the optic. Keep your left eye open—don't squint one eye shut to aim." Gao Fei opened his left eye and pulled his head back slightly. Now his right eye saw a clear reticle, while his left eye retained its normal field of view outside the scope. Looking through the optic, the target was remarkably clear. Most importantly, no matter how small the target was, it wasn't obscured by the front post of iron sights. The SVD's reticle wasn't the crosshairs commonly seen in movies; it used chevrons and a T-shaped stadia layout. The markings were simple, yet when he tried to settle on target, he noticed the scope wouldn't stop wobbling. Gao Fei rested the rifle firmly on the ground. Once it had proper support, the wobble all but vanished. He aimed at the fuel drum and fired a shot. The recoil was heavy—far heavier than that of an AK-74. Gao Fei had to search for the fuel drum all over again, lock onto it once more, and only then try to spot whether a fresh bullet hole had appeared on the metal. Hitting a stationary target with a scope didn't seem that hard, but reacquiring the target through the optic took vastly longer than using iron sights. "Hit. That's easy enough. Aim at the spot you just hit and take another shot. I'll watch the point of impact. At two hundred meters, the distance between your two impacts can't exceed ten centimeters, or else you don't have the talent to be a sniper." Gao Fei couldn't see the hole, so he could only aim at the previous spot and fire again. Hitting a stationary target with a scoped sniper rifle really wasn't hard—in fact, it was quite simple. Moving as fast as he could, Gao Fei located the fuel drum in the scope once more, re-aimed at the point of impact as swiftly as possible, and squeezed off a third round. His pace was still too slow, completely incomparable to shooting an AK-74. Even though the SVD was a semi-automatic rifle, the recoil was simply too stout; rapid follow-up shots were practically impossible. Gao Fei couldn't judge his shot grouping, but he was thoroughly dissatisfied with his rate of fire. Just then, however, the sniper beside him barked in exasperation, "What are you doing? Wasting ammo? These are dedicated sniper rounds! Don't go wasting... wait, you actually hit it?"