"Don't you think this kind of competition insults the title of Sharpshooter?"

Zhou Zheng's face showed disdain as he licked his lips, staring at Yan Boxun with a half-smile. "Shooting bottles is something from the era of the Republic and the American Wild West. Instructor Yan, you wouldn't be shallow enough to think that hitting a few bottles can determine if someone is a Sharpshooter, would you?"

Faced with Zhou Zheng's disdain and questioning look, Yan Bohe's face turned red.

After a long pause, Yan Bohe finally calmed himself and sneered, "So, Young Master Zhou, how do you think we should compete?"

Being intimidated by Zhou Zheng, whom he considered a waste, made Yan Boxun feel a mix of anger and shame. When had he ever been treated with such disdain? Considering Zhou Zheng's usual behavior, Yan Boxun concluded that Zhou Zheng was merely trying to scare him into backing out of the competition.

"Hmph!"

Yan Boxun snorted internally. He was determined not to let this waste have his way. He wanted to slap Zhou Zheng in the face in front of the entire Siege City, letting everyone know that Zhou Zheng hadn't changed and was still the same waste with a dazzling identity.

Zhou Zheng chuckled, his eyes narrowing with a glint of coldness.

"If we're going to play, let's make it exciting. Didn't our fathers say that only in actual combat can one's true skills be tested? How about this: let's hold our competition outside the city and see who can hunt the most and the most valuable prey in a day."

After speaking, not only Yan Boxun but even Zhou An and Lan Xi raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"Young Master..."

Zhou Zheng waved his hand, interrupting Lan Xi, and stared at Yan Boxun, enunciating each word, "What does Instructor Yan think?"

At this moment, Zhou Zheng's demeanor suddenly changed, no longer amiable, but rather imposing.

Zhou Zheng was reasonable, but he knew when to stand his ground. He wasn't the type to not fight back or retaliate. If people don't offend me, I won't offend them; if they do, I will return the favor. These twelve words were etched in the hearts of both the past and present Zhou Zheng.

Often, the more you retreat, the more people will trample on your dignity.

Yan Boxun felt as if he was being pushed to the edge of a cliff. He understood the dangers outside the city and was tempted to back down, but considering Zhou Zheng's wasteful reputation and the many eyes watching and listening, how could he retreat?

"This proposal is good, I agree."

Gritting his teeth, Yan Boxun agreed. He couldn't believe that as a Second-Stage Martial Artist, he couldn't defeat this Apprentice Martial Artist waste.

Seemingly thinking of something, Yan Boxun's face showed amusement. "To avoid accusations of bullying the weak, I'll give you an extra week to practice your shooting." He turned and left with a parting shot, "In a week, I'll be here to welcome you, Young Master Zhou."

In a week, he could break through to the Third-Stage Martial Artist, and then he could decide how to toy with this waste.

Zhou Zheng's face wore a faint smile again.

In a week's time, he could accomplish many things, including raising his level to a higher stage.

...

"Young Master, wasn't that a bit too impulsive?"

Outside the city, Lan Xi expressed concern.

An Apprentice Martial Artist competing against a Second-Stage Martial Artist, even if it was a shooting contest, no one saw how Zhou Zheng could win. Moreover, rumors said that Yan Boxun was on the verge of a breakthrough to the Third-Stage Martial Artist.

Zhou An also advised, "Young Master, how about we go back tonight and talk to the Leader to have this competition canceled?"

Chewing on a wild grass stalk, Zhou Zheng caressed the cold surface of the Nepal knife on his thigh, but he didn't explain much. Instead, he gazed at the distant forest and smiled. Spitting out the grass stalk, he tasted its bitterness on his tongue and said, "Let's go, hopefully, we can catch some new game today."

They ventured deeper into the forest than the previous day.

Though Lan Xi and Zhou An were worried, they tacitly agreed to Zhou Zheng's actions, considering his remarkable shooting skills.

Since the country implemented the policy of returning farmland to forests, the area of afforestation had been expanding. By the time the apocalypse struck, nearly all the mountains were covered in endless forests. In these rarely visited areas, the forests continued to grow.

In fact, these woods could now be called forests.

Tall trees and dense underbrush.

Without cutting tools to clear the thorns, passage was impossible. The towering trees gave an eerie feeling. The mountains, untouched for nearly twenty years, provided a haven for animals, creating a world of their own.

After crossing a small ridge, they reached a valley. Zhou Zheng surveyed the area and stopped, "Let's start here!"

The valley was home to a large swarm of mutant flies known as "Flying Flies."

The valley, perpetually shrouded in gloom, provided the perfect habitat for the Flying Flies, making it their nesting ground. Just approaching the valley, one could hear the "buzzing" sound of the flies in flight. After mutating, the flies grew to the size of a fist, with wingspans reaching 30 to 40 centimeters.

Their large bodies limited their flight height, forcing them to fly close to the ground.

In combat, Flying Flies relied on numbers, using their steel-like stingers as weapons.

In the memories of his predecessor, these Flying Flies, though only first-tier mutant beasts, were formidable. Many in Siege City had fallen to their stingers. With their speed, the stingers were as deadly as a cavalryman's lance, piercing through with chilling precision.

Lan Xi and Zhou An's faces changed immediately.

Zhou Zheng smiled faintly, "If you're scared, you can wait here."

This time, Zhou Zheng didn't use the Type 03 but drew the Nepal knife from his thigh, holding it in his hand. Though not as familiar as a dagger, the Nepal knife had advantages in reality, especially in the early stages.

Stepping on the fallen leaves, his feet sank slightly, a result of years of accumulated foliage.

Lan Xi and Zhou An exchanged glances, drawing their weapons and following Zhou Zheng into the valley.

The trees in the valley were even taller and denser, casting shadows that left the ground beneath them almost bare, making it feel empty. The Flying Flies buzzed under the canopy, sometimes in groups of three or five, sometimes alone. Some trees were covered with flies, densely packed, making one's scalp tingle.

Walking beneath these trees was unsettling.

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Zhou Zheng stopped, leaning against a tree so large it took several people to encircle it.

Lan Xi and Zhou An, being Second-Stage Martial Artists, moved swiftly and agilely, quickly reaching Zhou Zheng's side.

"You wait here. Leave the hunting of the Flying Flies to me."

"Young Master, let us handle it."

Zhou Zheng smiled and shook his head, refusing. To them, it was just hunting, taking down a few flies. They couldn't understand that these were his experience points. Whether they killed or he did made a big difference, so he preferred they didn't intervene.

Due to their mutated structure, the Flying Flies had a muscle on their back that was quite delicious, a rare delicacy.

"Let me try first."

Zhou Zheng's voice brooked no argument as he stepped out from behind the tree, holding the Nepal knife.

Having followed Zhou Zheng for half a month, Lan Xi and Zhou An understood his temperament. They resignedly sat on the pile of fallen leaves. With their skills, they could easily extract Zhou Zheng from the valley if the flies swarmed.

Out of rogue habit, Zhou Zheng first used "Weakness Scan" on the Flying Fly in front of him.

Instantly, six flashing red dots appeared on the fly's body.

...