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Mugalen walked slowly through the grass, searching for animal tracks. As a member of the Deer Hunters, there was no doubt Mugalen had real skill. Less than two minutes after getting out of the car, he had found traces of prey in what seemed to the casual observer to be a uniform expanse of grass.

A patch of flattened grass.

With a look of pleasure, Mugalen was about to step forward for a closer examination when he suddenly remembered something. He consciously glanced at Bi Fang out of the corner of his eye to see if the other had made any discoveries, only to find nothing.

There was nothing in the corner of his eye but a patch of green moss.

Hmm?

Where is he?

How could such a big man just disappear?

Mugalen was stunned. He turned to look at his side, only to find that Bi Fang, who had been standing behind him, had vanished without a trace. He couldn’t believe his own eyes.

The two of them had clearly gotten out of the car together. How could he suddenly be gone?

He quickly turned back to ask Barton, who pointed in a direction. Following his gesture, Mugalen saw that Bi Fang had already walked deep into the forest, leaving only a small figure in the distance.

Did he find something?

That quickly?

Mugalen hurried over, slowing his pace as he got close so as not to startle the prey. Barton followed in the car, stopping at a safe distance before getting out with the two youngsters to walk and see what Bi Fang had discovered.

Barton, who had stayed in the car, saw it all very clearly. After Bi Fang got out, he seemed to look around casually and then purposefully started walking in a certain direction. This was completely different from Mugalen, who was searching everywhere for clues.

That’s impressive.

Barton silently felt sorry for his friend. He wasn’t very optimistic about the outcome of the competition, especially given the skill Bi Fang had just displayed in finding prey—undoubtedly better than his friend’s.

By the time Mugalen caught up, Bi Fang had also found his target— a rabbit in the midst of feeding.

“So soon?”

Mugalen’s pupils constricted, he had only just found the clues, but his opponent had already found the prey— the speed was frighteningly fast! Finding clues and finding prey were two different things. Usually, hunters who found clues had to spend at least half an hour to truly track down their prey, not to mention actually finding it.

What had the other done just now, found it with just a glance?

It must be luck!

Mugalen comforted himself with that thought. He too had experienced such fortune before; indeed, on a good day, one could come across prey right after heading out.

“Your turn?”

Noting that Mugalen had caught up and thinking that he wanted to give it a try, Bi Fang whispered in a low voice and tilted his head to indicate the rabbit forty meters away.

Mugalen waved his hand, lowering his voice just as much, “No, no, no, you go ahead. You found it first.”

Finding the prey counted as a win for the other party; after all, luck was part of one’s strength, nothing to argue about. But whether he could catch it was another matter altogether.

Bi Fang nodded without making a fuss, lowering his center of gravity and beginning to crawl toward the rabbit.

Although he had a gun, the closer the distance, the better. Experienced hunters could get within fifteen meters of their prey, but Bi Fang stopped at thirty meters. It wasn’t that he couldn’t go closer; he just didn’t need to.

He simply raised his gun to aim.

This was an ordinary hunting rifle without a scope, so he had to use iron sights.

Mugalen paused, then continued to follow behind Bi Fang, no longer caring about finding prey to compete.

Although somewhat unethical, Mugalen had to admit that seeing Bi Fang find his prey within two minutes had given him a great shock, leaving him feeling pressured and not as confident about the competition half a month away as he had been at the start. So, he wanted to observe his opponent up close.

There’s a saying in Huaxia that goes well, “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be imperiled in a hundred battles.”

Hmm, his footsteps are very steady, his Fox Step is exceedingly skilled, and the sound is barely detectable—clearly the mark of a professional.

But he’s still a bit hasty. A normal person would first test the gun to familiarize themselves with its subtle differences. There aren’t two guns in the world that are exactly the same—each one feels different, not to mention this is an old gun, the precision is very different from a new one.

Don’t be misled by the sharpshooters in movies, Mugalen’s instructor once told him something that he remembers very clearly to this day.

If someone is shooting at you with a handgun from fifteen meters away, just run—they have a ninety percent probability of missing.

Thirty meters is still quite a distance, Mugalen clearly remembers that this gun shoots to the left. The first time handling this gun, the chances of hitting a target beyond thirty meters are very small.

Yet, Bi Fang took the gun and without any intention of test-firing, went straight to using it, which is strange behavior for a special forces operator and shouldn’t need reminding by anyone.

Bi Fang is calm and focused, squatting on the ground, taking aim at the hare. Before he’s ready, however, the hare suddenly stands upright, as if sensing danger, looking around, just about to turn their way.

Mugalen’s muscles tense, strung tight with anxiety. Just as he thinks of retreating, a gunshot raises his hackles.

So fast!

Gone!

In that instant, two thoughts flash through Mugalen’s mind one after the other.

Bi Fang shot so quickly, Mugalen recalls that he had barely crouched before firing. How could it be possible to hit the target under such conditions!

As expected, the fur of the hare in his sight is ruffled as the bullet grazes its back and embeds itself in the tree behind, sending bark flying—the shot had clearly missed!

Startled, the hare springs into action, its powerful hind legs kicking up clods and grass. In just fractions of a second, the hare leaps forward seven or eight meters, nearly turning the thirty-meter distance into forty.

But before Mugalen can even begin to feel regret, the sound of a bolt being pulled back rings out, a golden shell is ejected, and a second gunshot follows closely behind.

Now two seconds have elapsed, and the hare has bounded nearly twenty meters, but it won’t get away. An orange bullet enters from the left side of its body and exits the right, taking a substantial amount of fresh blood and fur with it.

The immense force sends the hare flying through the air, only to drop to the ground lifelessly, without even a chance to cry out.

Mugalen’s pupils shrink to the size of pinpricks, an involuntary rasping noise emanates from his throat, his expression one of numb shock.

Even Barton, observing from afar with two young ones hidden behind a tree, gapes in amazement, because as a fellow Hunter, he understands perfectly what just happened.

The opponent fired two shots in extremely rapid succession, correcting for the bullet trajectory after the first, then striking a moving target at fifty meters with the second shot. Is this even human?

The smell of gunpowder lightly lingers, Bi Fang sniffs, not quite accustomed to the scent, finding it pungent.

He picks up the gun again, aiming at the downed hare, “This gun’s trajectory leans to the left. Otherwise, I would have hit with my first shot. You might want to change the barrel when you have time.”

At this moment, Mugalen is completely speechless, his mind a blank, simply nodding without thinking.

Seeing the other man silent, Bi Fang shakes his head and approaches the fallen hare.

Now, it’s utterly breathless, with an added bullet hole in its body.

“What a pity, the fur isn’t in the best condition, plus the gunshots are too loud and the smell of blood too strong. Though hunting with a gun is convenient, it has quite a few downsides.” Bi Fang shakes his head and casually picks up the hare.

By now, Mugalen has somewhat recovered from his brief shock and finally reacts, coming up to Bi Fang with a complex expression, as if wanting but hesitating to speak.

Bi Fang, sensing something amiss, asks with a smile, “What’s up?”

Mugalen is silent for a moment before finally speaking with difficulty.

“Is there a reward for coming in second?”