Persia, inside a military camp shooting range.
Song Heping was conducting night shooting training at the range, the muzzle flash was particularly glaring in the darkness.
9mm bullet casings clinked to the ground, the air filled with the smell of gunpowder.
It had been a long time since he practiced shooting so freely on an official range, that long-lost sense of exhilaration returned.
Sometimes he felt that handling a gun was more thrilling than touching a woman.
Some people are born for war.
Avanti watched from the side, and Song Heping's marksmanship amazed him.
Although he knew Song Heping was a retired officer from a certain Chinese Special Forces and knew his combat effectiveness was strong, seeing with his own eyes how he could shoot all the bullets in a magazine within the 10-ring still left him unprecedentedly shocked.
Suddenly, Song Heping's phone vibrated in his pocket.
He had to stop shooting and took off his noise-canceling headphones.
