The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

The heavy sound of the engine echoed in the woods, and the jeep crashed through the bushes. The bumps shook everyone violently. However, Watson seemed to have adapted to this rhythm. He firmly grasped the FAL automatic rifle with his arm and pulled the trigger the moment the tire soared into the air. Five or six rounds of bullets were fired, and the target of the gun passed quickly. Without blinking, he immediately aimed at the next target he saw.

Bang bang bang! !

Three shots were fired in short bursts, and sparks immediately burst out from the paper-covered metal target surface.

The driver lightly stepped on the brakes, then deliberately turned the steering wheel. After a series of tree branches whipped around, the jeep drove crookedly into a small river. On the left and right sides, there were six gun targets. Watson pulled the trigger to the left from a distance and fired all the dozen bullets in the magazine. The trees here were dense and the shooting angle was very strict. Once missed, there was no way to save it. He had to determine the order of attack in the shortest possible time.

The slightly extended index finger of his right hand pressed against the release button, and the empty magazine immediately dropped amid the bumps. By the time the wheels hit the water, Watson had already pointed the muzzle of the gun to the right, taking advantage of the sharp drop in speed to empty most of the magazine into the target. After driving out of the river, the jeep slowly slowed down and returned to the starting point.

Wolf Mother and others are waiting here.

"All 56 targets were hit."

Hobo walked over with a telescope in his hand, his face blank, but he spoke fluently: "You didn't even miss the 300-meter target. Damn it, I've never seen anyone shoot these targets in the car. This is New record... I admit that I underestimated you last time, no wonder Kalena let you join the team. Seriously kid, I think you should go to shooting competitions instead of going to the battlefield. You know ? It’s that kind of quick-reaction game, and I’m not talking about the Olympics.”

"That's none of your business, old man."

The wolf mother wearing a camouflage uniform came up and pushed him. The woman's hair was stained with mud and water, and several wolf team members around her also looked the same. Watson put down the FAL and touched the remaining items on the carrying gear: "I think there are enough bullets to hit. I just used three 3-round magazines."

You only used 3 of them?

Or forced semi-automatic burst firing?

Looking at the innocent expression on this beautiful boy's face, Hobo couldn't help but twitch the corners of his mouth. Today was an eye-opener for me. I watched Watson break all the training ground records. Fortunately, it was already off work at this time. My group came in through connections, otherwise they would definitely attract onlookers. But precisely because of this, being able to achieve all the hits at night, even with the help of a few lights, still seemed so incredible to Hobo.

How did Watson do it?

"Okay, let's go take a shower."

Mother Wolf ruffled Watson's hair and glanced at Bertha: "Meet at the east entrance of the arms market in half an hour."

......

"Are you okay? I don't want to rush you, but it's almost time."

Watson readjusted the waistband of his jeans and turned towards the bathroom to ask, but no one responded. Ten seconds later, Michela, who had not yet completely pulled off her T-shirt, opened the door and pulled her clothes off as she walked: "No hurry."

"No hurry? I'm about to be late for the first time in my life..."

Before he finished speaking, Watson was gagged by his girlfriend. The silent bathroom was suddenly filled with only slight breathing sounds and the faint sound of clothes being rubbed. After a long while, Watson moved his mouth away. Looking at the woman's charming eyes, he almost couldn't help but kiss her:

"Okay, let's go quickly."

"Quickly? Like you just did?"

Michela smiled and grabbed one of her boyfriend's arms, pressing her fiery body tightly against her. The two of them pulled and pulled together until they finally saw the lights of the east gate of the arms market. Anyone familiar with sports knows that fullness affects performance, and almost no one eats full before a game. Especially for e-sports players, it is best not to touch starch-containing foods such as rice before a game. Therefore, the shooting activity just now was entirely Luper's personal impromptu idea. Everyone just treated it as a holiday and visited the local arms market.

When it comes to what mercenaries like, arms are definitely one of them.

This suburban exhibition hall is actually an arms black market with a relatively "long" history. It has specialized shooting ranges, training grounds, and firearms and vehicle testing grounds. Precisely because of its complete facilities, this black market is temporarily closed at certain times of the year, and instead hosts official international defense exhibitions—in layman terms, it is an arms exhibition. It is said that even the military industry department of Stark Industries I also came to the exhibition.

"This way."

Hopper stood in front and gave the doorman a tip.

Seeing this guy's attentive appearance, Watson could only sigh at the charm of French wives. Even in her previous life, there were very few women like Luper. Some of those so-called "female soldiers" were hyped up by Internet celebrities, and most of them were civilians, or they retired after working for a few years. Although there are female soldiers who actually fight, he has never seen one whose temperament, appearance, figure and professional level can reach Luper's level.

So did Michela and Four Eyes.

How else can we say that this world is magical?

Unexpectedly, when a group of people walked into the door, they didn't attract much attention. There are many customers in the arms black market, and there are actually some women among them. Watson observed for a while, these women all came in with the men. As for these men...most of them had tattoos, scars and smelly bodies. Their speech and behavior were a bit arrogant. Compared with mercenaries, they were more... More like drug dealers and gangsters.

Due to fierce competition, drug traffickers in Rio de Janeiro have a strong demand for arms. But people who really want to do big business can often complete the transaction with just a phone call and a private appointment. Even if they come, they have already found a partner in advance. Those who spend a long time shopping here without buying anything are usually small gangs or pure individual gangsters.

"Don't use the gun here, do you understand?"

Hob took off his cowboy hat and lit a cigarette for himself: "You should also know that this is an old rule. But you don't have to be afraid of these drug sellers, hehe, they are very stingy, and they will negotiate everything they buy. The price, the vendors don't like these guys, it doesn't matter how many they die. If there is a conflict, remember to find an opportunity to let the other party touch the gun first, so that you can wait and see them beaten into pieces. But... This is a business place after all, so it’s best if you don’t take action.”

"Thanks for reminding."

Watson first set his sights on the universal machine gun - the last time he fought against the Lannister International in Albania, his death knell armor was seriously damaged, and he carried weapons such as the Gurkha scimitar, RPK light machine gun and PKM universal machine gun. All is lost. He took a cart, turned around and took Michela into the stall in front.

But no matter what, Watson's appearance is so deceiving. Many vendors just glanced at him and mistook him for a young man from a wealthy family who had sneaked in, and started selling various "Christmas trees" one after another. Among them, AR series rifles are the most common. The invention of universal rails allows an assault rifle to be equipped with scopes, night vision kits, vertical grips, laser sights, tactical flashlights and even under-mounted shotguns/grenade launchers. So many accessories. , at first glance it looks like a Christmas tree hung with gifts.

In addition to being impractical, it is certainly expensive and heavy.

No matter how small the scope is, the price is usually not low. Especially high-quality high-precision sniper scopes are generally much more expensive than the sniper rifle itself. After all, the former is a mechanical device, while the latter is an optical device. But experienced shooters rarely lean too far between the two, and long-range precision shooting is an entire system in which any component stretching is never a good thing.

"(Brazilian Portuguese) That, let me see."

Watson pointed to an FN MAG.

"You want to see this?"

The stall owner holding a toothpick in his mouth smiled: "This is a general-purpose machine gun, do you understand? Look at your own arm, this is not something that a rookie can use. If you really want to play, I recommend you to buy it. This FN Minimi is a light machine gun, at least you can hold it in your hand for a few more minutes."

"I want both, and five more barrels."

"...Are you serious?"

The stall owner was stunned.

Michelle next to her directly took out a wad of money.

"(German) What are you doing?"

Watson was also stunned.

"I haven't given you a gun yet." The woman shrugged.

"Don't!"

Watson crossed his hands and made a cross to her: "This thing is a consumable to me. Depending on the situation on the battlefield, it may be thrown away. Do you understand? This is not a precious thing, but if you If you buy it and give it to me, the meaning is different. What if I can’t bear to throw it away?”

"Just say nice things."

Miss Butterfly Knife smiled, hugged her boyfriend and kissed him directly. The stall owner watched the two foreign men and women chattering and suddenly kissed each other. He was stunned for two seconds, and then rolled his eyes and looked away. He stared at the FN MAG, snorted faintly in his nose, then spit out the toothpick and took out half a pack of cigarettes from his arms.

But in the end, some people were still unhappy.

"Hey! Pretty boy!"

A tattooed man next to him glanced at Michela's butt, and then at the woman in his arms. His face suddenly became unhappy, and he stepped forward and came closer: "I'm calling you, pretty boy! Do you know where this place is? Maodu How dare a little kid who is not even full-grown come here? And kiss him? What are you showing off to? He deserves a beating, right?"

What?

Watson turned his head, looked at the man's appearance as a street gangster, and then looked at the jealous look on the face of the woman in his arms, and immediately realized that he was in trouble. But at this time, he was very excited. It seemed that he had never encountered such a thing before! Isn't this kind of scene what the protagonist in the novel will definitely experience? The bad guys are looking for trouble, and then the protagonist shakes his body, beats the whole audience, and finally walks away with the beautiful woman in his arms. For the sake of Mr. Odin's hemorrhoids, what boy hasn't had such a tacky and pretentious dream?

When the tattooed man saw that Watson was silent, he thought he was frightened. Compared with the children from the slums, these little kids in the city were easier to bully and would run away crying with just a slap in the face. The man turned to Michela with a lewd smile: "Hey! Girl! Look at what a sissy your little boyfriend looks like? Hahaha, such a weak man can't protect you. You guys are in trouble today. , you know? Come here, do you hear me? Come here!"

"what did he say?"

Michela touched her belt.

"He said, uh... it doesn't matter what he said. You let me handle it? We'd better not make too much noise, otherwise we might be kicked out." Watson thought about his words. , and began to consider whether to kill him. It’s easy to say that he has a hairstyle that covers his face, but Michela has recovered very well recently and no longer wears a small mask when going out. Now that the two parties are very close, the other party must have remembered his appearance.

"I called you over! Do you hear me?"

The man pointed at Watson and turned to smile at his companions: "This pretty boy is so scared. Haha, look at his hair. I guess his mother never taught him how to tie his hair! Hey! Call your mother to save you. ?”

A burst of laughter.

"Hey! Are you fucking deaf?"

Seeing that the two still didn't respond, the man stretched out his hand to grab Michelle.

A cold light suddenly appeared.

Miss Butterfly Knife passed by the man and left a dagger on his neck.