Chapter 858: Section 570: Conflict (1)
Copenhagen Sharpshooter Training Ground.
Rhodes stood at the edge of the target area, the young people watching him struggle to adjust the scopes on their rifles — ten men older than him were frantically tweaking their scopes.
Indeed, although these soldiers were the best marksmen of their units, the age gap was too vast. Rhodes even noticed the eldest of his squad — yes, really an old man, with white hair, a face wrinkled from wind and snow, and calloused hands.
Could such an old man really be a sharpshooter? Was he really not just brought in to make up the numbers?
He was the slowest one to adjust the scope and the only one who gave up, the old man put down the four-time scope and picked up his ten-shot rifle: "Lieutenant Sir, may I use the mechanical sight."
"...No problem, but this time the target is at three hundred meters." Out of respect for someone old enough to be his grandfather, Rhodes did not curse. If it were someone his age, he could have blasted the guy across to the wall of the shooting range.
Forget it, no need to argue with an old man about what’s good about a scope, he’s probably never used one in his lifetime, and perhaps won’t use it in his remaining years either.
"No problem, Lieutenant Sir, back in my hometown, I used to shoot prey at about this distance," the old man said, after which he aimed at the seemingly small target and fired a shot.
Rhodes turned to the target, only to see a plate below it displaying the score.