Chapter 93

While teaching Wang Yi how to use a pistol, the fat man secretly monitored the thief leader Song Ming, who had a bet with him, and was part of the Eighth Route Army squad.

Before he came to this world, the fat man was one of the best in his team at surveillance, tracking, counter-surveillance, and counter-tracking. However, now, with his bulky figure, he was too conspicuous and easily memorable, so he no longer had any confidence in his skills.

But this time was different. Song Ming knew there was a bet between them, and both were openly monitoring each other. There was nothing to worry about, and the fat man didn't need to hide.

Mutual surveillance made it impossible for either to make a move. The fat man understood that nothing would happen during the day. If the gun were in the hands of the little brat, Song Ming might very well target her.

"Stone, come here, give me the gun, I'll teach you how to shoot," the fat man said with a smile, looking at the little brat.

The little brat happily handed over the Browning. The fat man, seeing through her, raised his hand and confiscated her gun.

"Give it back!" The little brat saw the fat man put the gun in his chest and waited a long time for his lesson, but she soon realized that the shameless fat man had tricked her.

"Can't you not provoke her?" Wang Yi, feeling annoyed, glared at the fat man and lowered her head to comfort the little brat, so she wouldn't shake her arm again.

"Let Grandpa Fat keep it for the night. I'll give it back to you tomorrow, little brat. I'll even give you a bullet," the fat man said with a smile. The bet wasn't over, and he had to ensure the gun stayed within his sight.

Although he wouldn't steal, he wasn't afraid of being stolen from. He just felt that since the little brat had attached herself to Wang Yi, she had become much more arrogant, skipping training and even demanding things from him. Even the gun he had intended to give to Wang Yi had become the little brat's toy. This loss of control made him uneasy.

"Really?" The little brat's eyes lit up at the mention of a bullet. Without a bullet, the gun was just a piece of scrap metal to her, but with a bullet, it was a different story, even if it was just one.

"Of course, do you know why I'm so fat?" the fat man asked.

"Because you never lie," the little brat remembered what the fat man had told her before and immediately replied.

Wang Yi felt powerless at the fat man's shamelessness and pulled the little brat away, to prevent him from corrupting the young.

"Bang, bang, bang..."

In the distance, the sound of gunfire erupted. Monkey, Colonel Ma, Xiao Li, Comrade Chen, Song Ming, and others took turns, finally discovering the key to rapid-fire training.

Being a good shot in this environment wasn't necessarily useful, as the farthest target was only a few dozen meters away. Hitting the target was easy, but it required both calmness and quick reflexes to aim and shoot quickly while switching targets. This wasn't something impulsive people like Old Zhao could do.

The facts proved this. The best among them had done a thousand push-ups, which was Colonel Ma. The worst was Comrade Chen, who did six hundred push-ups. They all completed the rapid-fire training within 130 seconds.

The fat man's two-minute rapid-fire standard was indeed well-calibrated.

He went to retrieve his two guns, looking at the spent shells on the ground, and suddenly felt a pang of pain. These were all his bullets.

"Son-in-law, you've lost big time, a thousand bullets! You must stand up for the bandit camp!" Jia Daode, with a pained expression, mentioned the sore spot.

"Damn it, tomorrow's training, if Grandpa Fat doesn't make them cry and beg, I'll write my name backward!" the fat man cursed, feeling genuinely pained. He thought, next time, he must get some benefits from the Eighth Route Army, or he couldn't go on like this.

With a grudge, he put the guns in his pocket and returned to his quarters. He disassembled and cleaned the two guns while thinking about how to deal with Song Ming.

No matter how he thought about it, there was no good method, just stealing back and forth.

But Song Ming was a professional thief, and his anti-theft skills were decent. However, asking him to steal with his bulky figure was too much to ask. He admitted he wasn't as good as Song Ming, the notorious thief.

Finally, looking at his bedroom, he had a sudden idea. Since he couldn't outsmart Song Ming, he would set a trap. If Song Ming dared to come at night, he had plenty of ways to take him down.

The fat man began setting up the room, sealing all the gaps in the windows and walls. He then clapped his hands, chuckled to himself, and went out to eat.

During the meal, he met Tiger, dragged him aside, and asked about the common methods used by thieves to break into houses.

"Low-level thieves use poison or knockout incense to make people unconscious or die, then break in to steal."

"Mid-level thieves target wealthy victims and break in when no one is home."

"High-level thieves are skilled at breaking in without leaving a trace, even if someone is in the house, they never leave empty-handed."

The fat man immediately analyzed that since even the political commissar had brought Song Ming to complete the task, he wasn't a low-level thief. This made him even more reckless, as he was a thoroughly black-hearted and cunning person.

After asking, he found that Wang Yi and the little brat hadn't eaten dinner, so he asked Uncle Biao, the cook, to send a meal to the attic. He then drank and shouted with the bandit brothers in front of Song Ming, even inviting Colonel Ma to join. In the end, he got drunk, and Tiger and Monkey each carried one of his arms back to his room.

Song Ming, who had been observing the fat man from a distance, looked serious. He had seen the fat man's skills during the day and knew that tonight was the time for action. Yet, the fat man dared to get drunk. Was he trying to lure him into a trap?

But it didn't seem like it. The bowls of alcohol couldn't be faked. Song Ming was hesitant. He was the type who preferred to do nothing rather than make a mistake. A thief who made a mistake was finished, with no chance to try again. This was what his master had taught him, so he had developed a cautious attitude.

But on the other hand, the fat man was already well-known. Knowing that he had to act tonight, the fat man couldn't be unaware of the consequences of getting drunk. If he knew this and still got drunk, the fat man was either too hospitable or deliberately trying to trick him.

Song Ming became even more hesitant. At this moment, Comrade Chen came over and whispered, "Little Song, this fat man is indeed skilled. Don't do anything tonight. At least we won't lose face."

If it weren't for Comrade Chen's words, Song Ming might have given up on the uncertain situation. But with Comrade Chen's words, the meaning changed.

Comrade Chen meant well, but it only fueled Song Ming's competitive spirit. Was it just a loss? He had issued the challenge, and he couldn't be timid. That wasn't his style.

Thus, the situation developed in a way that neither Comrade Chen nor Song Ming could have predicted, because they were dealing with a cunning and treacherous person...

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