Click click click.
In the target range, the freckled waiter skillfully took up a handgun, did a quick adjustment, then aimed at a distant target and pulled the trigger.
Bang! A bullet shot out, scoring a direct hit on the bullseye twenty meters away.
"Sir, this gun's recoil is pretty hefty, and it's loud. So you'd better hold it with both hands, and also wear ear protection," he said, demonstrating for Xiang Nan before handing over the weapon, ready to teach him how to hold it properly.
But Xiang Nan, after taking the gun, didn't even bother lining up the sights. He simply raised it one-handed and fired at the target.
Bang!
The deafening noise echoed again. The freckle-faced waiter sucked in a breath.
The shot missed the bullseye but landed in the 8-ring—still impressive.
Bear in mind, other customers who'd tried this gun for the first time usually missed the target completely.
What really stunned him, though, was how Xiang Nan's only reaction to the recoil was a slight jerk of his shoulder. He stayed rock-steady.
After that shot, Xiang Nan abruptly swiveled the barrel and aimed at a stack of straw in the range. He fired again, and the massive bale was instantly blown open by a bullet hole the size of a fist.
"Not bad," Xiang Nan muttered to himself.
He could tell this world's firearms weren't exactly the same as those from his previous life—probably due to different manufacturing standards, making them less refined.
Just from watching the waiter shoot once, Xiang Nan had memorized every key movement and copied them. In fact, he'd already grasped the essence of each stance and motion.
This was his newly created system talent in action.
It wasn't just a heightened ability to learn; it was a more universal type of comprehension.
"Learning ability" can be very concrete: you learn from someone's teaching or from observing a model.
But "comprehension" is broader—it naturally includes learning but goes beyond it. Even if you lack a direct example to copy, sharp insight alone can open doors.
"Looks like you've got plenty of experience with guns, sir," the waiter commented with a smile.
From Xiang Nan's eyes and the casual aura he radiated while firing, it was obvious he wasn't some clueless first-timer.
The waiter figured maybe he was in the mafia, or a mercenary, or a military officer, or something along those lines.
Next, the waiter did a quick demonstration of a rifle and a sniper.
Again, Xiang Nan only needed to watch a couple of times before he handled them with ease.
"So far, it seems my talent is boosting my proficiency with different skills. But my quick firearm mastery is also partly thanks to my past life's experience," Xiang Nan thought. "I'll need to learn something completely unfamiliar if I want to see the talent's true value this early on."
He set down the sniper rifle, gazing at a red balloon floating in the sky.
"Let's go to the hunting grounds," he said, turning to leave.
The waiter continued to lead him.
In less than half an hour, this customer seemed to have mastered several firearms, his handling and aim so on-point it was jaw-dropping. And most notably, the accuracy of his shots just kept getting better.
Soon enough, a staff member drove Xiang Nan in a small off-road vehicle into a forested area, where they saw warning signs and various animals lurking among the trees.
Those beasts were all raised here for hunting, ranging from small to large. The freckle-faced waiter wasn't just there to help customers use the guns; he was also in charge of keeping them safe. This forest had creatures like tigers, leopards, wolves—predators that could really do some damage.
But Xiang Nan's behavior grew even more suspicious in the waiter's eyes.
The terrain was rugged, with sharp branches, rotting leaves, and thick underbrush—stuff rich city folks usually couldn't handle. Yet Xiang Nan moved through the forest at a high speed, like he was well-practiced. He also had incredible awareness.
It was as if he wasn't there for fun but on some serious mission.
Bang!
A wild hare suddenly sprang from the brush, and Xiang Nan raised his handgun in one swift motion, pulling the trigger.
Before the rabbit's feet even hit the ground, the bullet had torn it apart into bloody bits.
Next, he slung the sniper rifle off his back, dropped to a prone position, and aimed at a bird perched on a branch several hundred meters away.
Another gunshot cracked through the air.
The bird was instantly killed, tumbling off the tree.
Xiang Nan smoothly got to his feet, handling the hefty sniper rifle like it was no burden, and pressed on deeper into the woods.
The waiter silently followed, thinking how different a live target was from a static one. Even so, Xiang Nan adapted fast. Early on, he missed a couple of shots, but before long, his accuracy was basically flawless, and his movements were nimbler too.
Any creature they came across, large or small, got taken down by this grim reaper of a man.
"Sir, maybe we should call it a day," the freckle-faced waiter suggested, his face pale as he noticed evening approaching.
There were only so many animals in the hunting grounds—at Xiang Nan's rate, he'd annihilate them all. That spelled massive losses for the business. Most customers didn't have that high a kill ratio. If Xiang Nan wiped out everything, how could anyone else have fun hunting?
"Alright. Let's head back," Xiang Nan said, realizing he'd accomplished enough.
Besides mastering the firearms, he'd used the hunts to adjust to his new body, blending his old memories and skills seamlessly so he wouldn't feel rusty.
With some relief, the waiter led him back to the vehicle, and they drove out of the forest toward the shop.
Xiang Nan checked his system screen—less than 17 hours remained until the "Extinction Game."
He leaned back, closed his eyes in the seat, and briefly drifted off. In that haze, he recalled images from his past life.
Back then, he'd been an ex-soldier. Family troubles left him desperately needing money, so he'd become a mercenary. At the time, the world was pretty chaotic—a handful of countries were in conflict, and war threatened to expand globally. But for a risk-taker like him, that meant work.
So he served as a foreign mercenary for several years, living day to day with a knife at his throat. That kind of life made it impossible to return to civilian normalcy. Even after he'd earned enough, he stayed on the battlefield, because nobody ever thought they had too much money. Plus, the smell of warfare was oddly calming for him, more so than mundane day-to-day living.
Of course, that lifestyle gradually hardened him—he grew numb to killing, cold-blooded even.
That blond guy was right—everyone who got chosen to be a player carried their share of sins.
Xiang Nan had long since lost count of how many people he'd killed. And ultimately, he died on the battlefield, leading him to this point.
When the car stopped, Xiang Nan opened his eyes. Together with the waiter, he headed back into the shop.
Compared to earlier, business had slowed. Only a few customers remained.
But Xiang Nan noticed a group in one of the booths: a few men in expensive suits with cocky postures. Although they dressed sharply, the tattoos on their exposed skin—and their overall demeanor—gave off a definite mob vibe.
Xiang Nan glanced at them once, then turned his attention away.
He walked up to the counter and faced the bearded boss.
"Have a good time?"
The boss exchanged a look with the waiter, as though guessing something, then leaned back on his chair with a slight smile. He was swirling a glass of whiskey on the rocks.
"Not bad," Xiang Nan replied.
Sipping his drink, the boss told him how much he owed. Xiang Nan paid without complaint.
"Also, I want those guns and that blade."
After settling up, Xiang Nan again pointed to the curved blade hanging behind the bearded man.
"…"
"Like I said this morning, everything in here is for rent only, not for sale."
The boss set his glass down.
"There's nothing in this world that's truly 'not for sale.' It just means you haven't named the right price," Xiang Nan interrupted. "Name your figure."
"…."
The bearded man was briefly speechless. He noticed Xiang Nan's gaze flicker toward the mobsters across the bar, and they were also glancing over.
The boss curled his lips into an amused smile, baring bright white teeth. "No problem. If the customer wants something, we'll make it happen."
"But once you leave this shop, whatever happens to you has nothing to do with us. Got it?"
"Of course," Xiang Nan said, like he'd expected that response all along. He tapped the counter lightly with a finger.
A few minutes later, Xiang Nan left the shop carrying a package.
Once he was gone, the freckle-faced waiter looked at the bearded boss curiously. "Boss, why'd you sell him that stuff?"
"Why not? Money's money." The big man downed the rest of his drink. "Someone like him isn't coming back—probably just a one-time customer."
Then he hollered to the nearby mobsters, "We're running low… next time, bring me some good product."
"Don't push it, Oldy," one of them shot back. "We've already brought you plenty. You probably can't afford the real top-shelf goods anyway, even if you sold this whole shop."
They all clinked their glasses in a burst of boisterous laughter.
"Tch," the boss snorted in response.