Chapter 91

Sure enough, in the afternoon, Monkey saw Fatso come up with a new trick to mess with people.

In front of the attic, an open space had been filled with over twenty wooden stakes of varying heights, randomly arranged. However, these stakes were at least five meters apart, and a lime-drawn path eighty centimeters wide ran through the middle, with the stakes standing on both sides and in front of the path.

Each of these stakes of varying heights had a stone placed on top, but no one knew what this was for.

Monkey saw that Yang Yun was still busy at noon, and it turned out he was setting up this contraption.

A crowd had gathered nearby, including Wang Yi with the mischievous kids, Commander Ma and his Eighth Route Army, and the brothers from the mountain stronghold. Since Fatso had Yang Yun and the others set up these stakes and stones at noon, it had piqued everyone's curiosity, and they naturally wanted to see what it was all about.

Fatso always had surprising moves, and among the crowd, there were not only those who came to watch the show but also those who wanted to learn a few tricks from him.

"What's this guy up to?" Old Three Zhao asked Chen Gan.

Chen Gan shook his head; he didn't know either. After he had given up his pen for the military, he had read all the foreign military books he could get his hands on and could recite large sections of particularly important content. But he couldn't figure out what Fatso was planning now.

At that moment, Fatso was disassembling Zhang Ligu's powerful Browning. Although the gun looked quite worn on the outside, it was well-protected on the inside, indicating that Zhang Ligu took great care of it.

He disassembled and inspected it, then quickly reassembled it, inserting a full magazine.

Fatso looked up and saw a group of people staring at him expectantly.

He ignored their curious gazes, as they were on different levels and didn't need explanations. He just said to Monkey, "I'll give you a demonstration, kid. Watch closely, and time me with the watch I gave you."

"Okay," Monkey still didn't understand what Fatso was up to but took out the watch to prepare to time him.

Fatso tucked the Browning into his waistband, walked to the starting line marked with lime, and attached the stock to the twenty-shot version. He then gripped the handle and long magazine, placed the stock on his shoulder, pulled back the bolt, and pressed his cheek against it, aligning his sight with the front sight. Finally, he bent his knees and body slightly and shouted to Monkey, "Start the timer!"

"Go!" Monkey gave the command, and Fatso began to move forward in a crouched position, using small, steady steps.

"Bang!" Fatso pulled the trigger, and the gun fired, shattering a stone on a stake to the left. He continued to move forward with small, steady steps, turned his waist, and aimed the twenty-shot version to the right. "Bang!" The second shot hit a stone on a stake to the right...

He continued to alternate between left and right, moving forward quickly and steadily, hitting the stones on the stakes. This novel way of handling the gun left the onlookers both puzzled and intrigued.

What was Fatso up to?

"This guy has some tricks up his sleeve!" Commander Ma seemed to understand something, sighing meaningfully and rubbing his chin as he focused on Fatso.

"Commander, what do you see?" Little Li asked curiously.

This question was on everyone's mind, but Commander Ma's response left them almost speechless.

"This guy has some tricks up his sleeve!" Commander Ma said with a righteous tone.

Well, it seemed he hadn't figured it out either, just a hammer.

"This training is quite suitable for street and alley battles," Chen Gan, who was well-read, finally saw the point.

"Hey, that's right!" Someone chimed in, and Commander Ma's eyes lit up, staring intently at Fatso, afraid to miss any detail.

The moment all twenty stones on the stakes were hit, Fatso slung the twenty-shot version over his shoulder, the empty magazine now on his back. He then quickly drew the Browning, disengaged the safety, and chambered a round, all in one smooth motion, and continued to fire.

The "bang, bang" of the gun echoed, and the spent cartridges were ejected from the Browning one by one.

The last stone was shattered, and the gun fell silent. Fatso neatly re-engaged the safety and tucked the Browning back into his waistband, then pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. If he had his usual 95 and 92, his performance wouldn't have been so slow!

"Forty-two seconds..." Monkey had no real concept of this time, as there was nothing to compare it to.

Fatso sighed slightly and walked back. This performance was nothing to brag about. The training ground for rapid shooting was too crude, and it dampened his mood. But in this era, he had no choice but to make do with what he had. Every second faster in reaction time could mean the difference between life and death.

He also needed to find time to train these guys in anti-artillery, hand-to-hand climbing, and two or three-person coordination. Fatso sighed again. In three days, he could only use a cramming method to teach this team as many survival skills as possible. It was better than doing nothing, and he didn't know how many of them would come back alive from their mission.

Chen Gan was right; this was indeed a crude training ground for improving shooting reaction speed in urban alley battles. He had foreseen that the battles in Shanghai would mostly be street fights, not large-scale positional battles. Their mission was to obtain medicine, not to fight to the death with the Japanese.

With hundreds of thousands of troops fighting, they were just a small group. Besides, the Nationalist Army's front lines wouldn't allow them to step forward.

"Did everyone understand?" Fatso took off the two guns, replaced the magazine, and started loading the old one while talking to Monkey.

"I understand," Monkey nodded.

"Your turn. Complete it within two minutes. One second over, one hundred push-ups. Miss a stone, one hundred push-ups. Improper form, three hundred push-ups." Fatso waved his hand and threw the twenty-shot version and the Browning on the platform.

"Ah!" Monkey's face turned pale. He thought, "Do you think everyone is as crazy as you?" This time, he was sure he would end up doing a lot of push-ups.

Monkey was reluctant, but others were willing. Commander Ma and Yang Yun wanted to try, but this was a special training session Fatso had prepared for the small team. All the brothers in the stronghold had to follow Tiger Sai and build the training ground in front of the attic according to his requirements.

"Old Ma, if your people want to try, the requirements are the same as for Monkey. If they don't meet them, they'll do push-ups," Fatso said, looking at Commander Ma and the others.

Before Commander Ma could respond, Old Three Zhao jumped out, saying sarcastically, "You did it in forty-two seconds, right? What if I beat that time?"

Old Three Zhao had never had a chance to face Fatso directly and harbored a grudge. Plus, he had been taken down by Fatso in just two moves that morning, which he considered a lifelong disgrace. He wanted to beat Fatso at least once to save face.

"Go ahead," Fatso didn't even bother to acknowledge him, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"If I win, your scoped rifle is mine," Old Three Zhao was quite knowledgeable, asking for the 98K sniper rifle, which also showed that he still thought Fatso relied on this gun to survive.

"Fine, but if you don't complete the shooting and movement within the specified time, remember the requirements I set," Fatso took a puff of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke. He didn't want to lower his IQ by arguing with this guy.

"Great!" Old Three Zhao was overjoyed, walking to Monkey's side, picking up the two guns Fatso had thrown on the platform, and shouting at Monkey, "I'll go first. Time me!"

Monkey looked at Fatso with difficulty. If Fatso shook his head, he would have taken down this ignorant fool. Unfortunately, Fatso nodded, and Monkey could only shrug and hand over the two guns to Old Three Zhao, preparing to time him.

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