Chapter 110: The Sniper

The girl glanced at the time and said, “The resort has a standard mobile shooting range and an electric pneumatic cannon shooting area. I suggest you get familiar with those first. Once you’ve got the feel for it, we can arrange a hunting trip into the mountains.”

Seeing Xia Long and Xia Hu eager to try, the group returned to the resort and headed to the shooting range. With the two brothers around, there was no need for so-called professional instructors.

Though all the shotguns had been modified to reduce their lethality, Zhuang Chen was still excited—it was his first time shooting. Xia Long hadn’t handled a gun in a long time but quickly got the hang of it, hitting the bullseye every time.

Xia Hu’s skills went without saying; shooting was his hallmark. Back in the day, he dominated the field, shattering all the shooting range records. All the instructors practically bowed down, begging him to teach them.

After more than two hours, Zhuang Chen finally found his rhythm. Nine out of ten shots hit the nine-ring or better, filling him with pride. With a broad gesture, he declared, “Tomorrow morning, we go into the mountains!”

That evening, they dined on local game. The ingredients were fresh, but the cook’s skills left much to be desired—only barely passable. The hotel featured hot springs; outside, snow blanketed the world, while inside, it was like spring all year round. The girl slipped out of her clothes and helped Zhuang Chen scrub his back in the warm water.

Though her chest was modest, her enthusiasm was fierce, especially when those little tiger teeth grazed his skin, sending him into a state of blissful ecstasy...

They had to conserve energy for the mountain hunt the next day, so after two rounds in the spring, they rested early.

At six the next morning, they rose, packed their gear, and prepared to set out. No instructor dared to take on this task with the two brothers around.

Carrying hunting rifles, Xia Long wielded a hunting knife, and Xia Hu led a black dog. With heads held high and spirits undaunted, they ventured into the mountains in search of prey.

“To begin, you must look for signs of animal activity—tracks, droppings, crossing points, watering holes. Their trails often lead to springs, streams, lakes, feeding grounds, and shelters,” the girl explained, leaning close to Zhuang Chen.

After all, this was a resort; there were no large wild beasts, at most some wild boars. With two top-notch protectors at his side, it was more like a leisurely outing. His job was simply to be well taken care of.

“Experts can tell whether tracks are fresh or old. In winter, this is easy because of the snow; fresh prints have clear outlines with small serrated edges on the sides. See here—these are prints of birds and small animals. The cold creates little nests around them; fresh tracks are scattered and sometimes shaped like a two-fingered glove.”

Zhuang Chen crouched down to listen. Really, it was just a game. Shooting a wild rabbit would count as a success. All the talk about bows, hunting knives, and bows was nonsense.

“Old tracks in cold weather develop ice crystals. On moist soil, the freshness of tracks is judged by how clear their outlines are. Fresh prints often have small puddles of water, which glisten in sunlight but lose their shine and darken after one or two days. The water inside the prints gradually evaporates…”

Xia Hu brought the dog over, letting it sniff the tracks. “I’ve seen black bears before. They leave obvious signs in open grasslands—like leftover berry seeds or animal droppings. Places they’ve been often have dug-up squirrels or marmots.”

“In the desert, near water, grassy canyons, lowlands, or riverbeds, animal signs are easiest to find—rabbits, wild chickens, desert foxes, coyotes, desert bighorn sheep.”

“Animals head to water and grasslands at sunrise to fill their bellies quickly. When it gets hot, they hide in cover, returning to shelters or nearby dens at dusk. On bright moonlit nights, they come out to forage.”

“The best times to hunt are early morning and dusk. Animals are not only more active but easier to find near water sources, forest clearings, and mountain passes. Heavy rain drives prey into hiding, making hunting difficult.”

The girl fell silent. Even a fool could tell these two men were no ordinary fellows—at least special forces. His own experience was all theory and bluff, enough to fool the boss.

As they walked, they soon reached a dense forest. Xia Long and Xia Hu built a concealed blind among the shrubs to attract animals, saving energy.

They positioned themselves downwind from where prey was active, so the animals couldn’t smell them. Hunting against the wind also minimized sound travel.

They set out bait and crawled low into the bushes, pressing close to the ground to observe their surroundings. Animals are very sensitive to sound.

Not far off, two rabbits looked toward Zhuang Chen. He held his breath until they shifted their gaze or lowered their heads to eat again.

Xia Hu lay motionless like a rock, left hand supporting the rifle, right finger on the trigger, eyes narrowed, breathing shallow and irregular. Then—bang! The rabbit dropped instantly.

The black dog barked as it fetched the rabbit, biting it to the head. Zhuang Chen raised a thumb in praise—impressive!

A 4.5 caliber lead pellet might be dismissed by children abroad, but in our country, it was enough to make a police car chase you all over the mountain.

The moment Zhuang Chen pulled the trigger, a primal masculine instinct for killing and conquest burst forth from his core. The feeling of being a hunter surged naturally.

All his usual meekness before his wife, servility to his boss, frantic struggles in society, and weary toil vanished. Only unparalleled excitement and joy remained.

This was the thrill of the hunt!

Seeing the boss pleased, Xia Long nudged Xia Hu and whispered, “Go shoot a spotted dove for the boss to see.”

Xia Hu understood immediately. Having spent so much time with Zhuang Chen, enjoying good food and leisure, life was comfortable. The top bodyguard had barely a chance to prove himself—this was a golden opportunity.

Spotted doves were tough to shoot, especially during the day. They’d fly away at the slightest sign of people. Without tree cover, getting within thirty meters was impossible.

Even chasing whole flocks left hunters sweating but unable to harm a feather. The best method was to wait patiently.

They searched for the doves’ roosting forest, where they liked to nest in evergreen trees—cedars, bamboo, and sapling groves.

Ideally, these woods mixed in a few camphor, Chinese tallow, or parasol trees. The seeds of camphor and tallow trees were the doves’ main food, while parasol and other deciduous trees served as their resting and courting stage.

If you found piles of bird droppings on the forest floor, congratulations.

After feeding outside, the doves habitually returned, perching briefly on tree trunks to preen, defecate, or flirt with a mate before slipping into dense foliage to sleep. This was the prime hunting moment.

Xia Hu crouched silently within the optimal twenty-meter range, hidden in the bushes with only enough space to observe and shoot.

Two sharp shots rang out in quick succession—both doves dropped with headshots.

By evening as they descended the mountain, their haul was plentiful. Over a dozen animals; even Zhuang Chen personally took down two rabbits—a great start, thoroughly satisfying.

Having elite special forces hunt birds did feel like overkill, but with gun restrictions at home, there was no other way. Once in the States, they’d get Wade to secure three licenses, buy a few Desert Eagles, AK-47s, even rocket launchers.

A few vehicles, a barrage of armor-piercing rounds—turning the forest into a sieve—that would be the real thrill!

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