After a month of physical training, it was time for the shooting class. Knowing that it was time for the shooting class, the happiest person was Lin zhiqiao. It was as if she had been injected with chicken blood, and she even came back singing about the shooting.
Ye Xingkong had heard from his brother that the recoil from firing a gun for the first time was very strong. It would shake his shoulder until it hurt, and there might also be tinnitus and other side effects.
"Hey, ye Xingxing, let's have a competition." Lin zhiqiao, who was lying next to her, looked at her provocatively.
Ye Xingxing pretended not to hear her. She would never forget that Lin zhiqiao had deliberately come to her dormitory that day to show off her good shooting skills. She was not going to compete with her.
Lin zhiqiao, who was ignored, snorted coldly and began to observe her gun.