Chapter 57: Training, Drills, And Long-Range Sniping.

Starting to feel better, hopefully, I can't pump out more chapters... Thanks to everyone for the support. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

The morning air in the warehouse was thick with tension as the group gathered in the makeshift training area. The smell of sweat and faint traces of gunpowder lingered in the air, from preparation for the grueling work Rika and Guldrin had planned for them. This was not a place for half-measures or excuses, every mistake here could mean death in the world beyond these walls. They had no intention of half-assing, cheaping out, or going easy; they would teach them how to survive.

Rika stood at the front, her imposing figure outlined by the dim light filtering through the high windows. Her sharp gaze swept over the group, pausing on each person with an intensity that made even the most confident like Saeko, Yuriko, or the others among them shift uncomfortably.

She was dressed in combat fatigues, her rifle slung casually over her shoulder. Despite the casual demeanor, there was no mistaking the air of authority she exuded.

"Listen up!" she barked, her voice cutting through the murmurs, the room going completely silent. "Out there, hesitation gets you killed. Poor aim gets you killed. Weakness gets everyone killed. If you're here, you're going to train like your life depends on it, because it does. If you are going to learn from me, then there will be no holds barred, you will learn, because I will NOT have someone who learned and trained under me, die due to my teaching, or their lack of learning or attention!" 

Kohta swallowed hard, his hands gripping the stock of a rifle Rika had handed him earlier. The weight of it felt unnatural in his hands, but he didn't dare complain. Guldrin had already warned him that Rika would have no patience for excuses, and Kohta had no intention of testing that theory. He watched her clear zombies like strolling in a park before they met up with Guldrin in the city, he knew, she was dangerous.

"Form up!" Guldrin's voice carried a similar edge, though his tone lacked the outright venom of Rika's. His injuries hadn't stopped him from taking an active role in the training, and he moved with a determination that belied the fresh bandages wrapped around his torso. Upon waking this morning, Guldrin noticed his regeneration had been immensely useful, the cracked ribs were mostly healed, the heavier wound was down to bruises, and the stitches were almost ready to be removed. So after a full examination which left Shizuka stumped, he was allowed to participate, despite his smaller frame compared to Rika's or Yuriko's, Guldrin carried a primal aura that demanded attention.

The group shuffled into a line, their movements clumsy and uncertain. Rika's lip curled in disdain. "Pathetic," she muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. "But that's why we're here. By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish the dead got to you first."

She turned her attention to Kohta, who was sweating bullets despite the cool temperature in the warehouse. "Pudgy, step forward."

Kohta hesitated, glancing nervously at Guldrin, who merely raised an eyebrow in silent encouragement. Taking a shaky breath, Kohta stepped out of line, and everyone else felt sorry for the resident glasses-wearing otaku.

"First rule of survival," Rika began, circling Kohta like a predator sizing up its prey, "is knowing yourself, your weapon, and the world around you. Show me your stance."

Kohta awkwardly raised the rifle, his feet planted too close together, his shoulders hunched. Rika didn't say a word. Instead, she moved in, slamming the butt of her own rifle against his shoulder, not hard enough to injure, but enough to make him stumble.

"Wrong!" she snapped. "That stance will get you knocked on your ass the moment you fire. Spread your feet. Bend your knees. Center your weight."

Kohta scrambled to adjust, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Rika sighed, shaking her head. "You're overthinking it. Stop. Reset."

As Kohta tried again, Guldrin stepped forward. "Rika, let me." He took the rifle from Kohta, demonstrating the proper stance with effortless precision. "Like this," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Feel the weight of the rifle. Let it become an extension of you. Each gun feels different, but you need to adapt… Come on, you went through a military training camp in the USA, you should know this; it isn't all about aiming and shooting a target… The, how is just as important. Now, try again."

Kohta mimicked Guldrin's stance, his movements still awkward but slightly more confident. Guldrin nodded. "Better. But don't just focus on your hands. Your entire body needs to work together. Stability is key."

For the next hour, Kohta endured a relentless barrage of corrections. Rika and Guldrin took turns pushing him to his limits, their methods leaving him frustrated but clearly improving. Rika was harsh, barking orders and pointing out every flaw with brutal honesty. Guldrin was more measured, offering encouragement alongside his critiques. Together, they formed an unforgiving but effective team.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was subjected to their own brand of torture. Miki led a hand-to-hand session, her movements fluid and precise as she guided the others through the basics of self-defense. Shiro assisted, her usually quiet but playful demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness. Even Saya, who had initially scoffed at the idea of physical training, found herself reluctantly drawn into the drills.

Yuriko and Maki worked on marksmanship under Rika's watchful eye. Targets had been set up at varying distances, and the sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse as the women honed their aim. Alice and Akane watched from the sidelines, Zeke at their side, wide-eyed filled with awe.

Rika moved like a storm through the training area, her commands sharp and unrelenting. "Lower your weapon, Maki! You're not holding a paintbrush, you're holding the difference between life and death. Control it!" 

Maki grits her teeth, adjusting her grip on the rifle. She was determined not to falter under Rika's scrutinizing gaze; she may have been special forces, but being taught by the Reaper was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. 

Yuriko, meanwhile, had adopted a calm precision, her years of experience as a business and military leader manifesting in her controlled movements. Even as Rika pushed her, Yuriko's hands remained steady, her shots striking closer to the bullseye with each pull of the trigger.

While the crack of gunfire filled the air, Miki and Shiro put the others through the wringer in hand-to-hand drills; Guldrin had taught Shiro, so she was the perfect person to assist in softening them up. 

The makeshift mat, constructed from scavenged cushions and a tarp, became a battlefield as Miki demonstrated holds, counters, and breakfalls. Her movements were brutal yet efficient, she was teaching them to demolish their enemies from the start, and with Shiro's input, they received the best of both worlds.

"Pay attention to leverage, not just brute strength," she lectured as she grappled Rei to the ground in a controlled takedown. "Strength fades, especially when you're tired or injured. Technique wins fights."

Rei growled in frustration, pushing herself up with a determined glare. "Again."

Miki smirked. "That's the spirit."

Nearby, Shiro worked with Saya, whose disdain for physical training was apparent in her lack of enthusiasm. "Why do I need to know this? That's what guns are for!" Saya snapped, brushing her pink hair out of her eyes.

Shiro's golden gaze sharpened. "And what happens when you lose your gun? When it jams? When you're out of ammo?" With surprising agility, Shiro swept Saya's legs out from under her, pinning her in a heartbeat. "You can't always rely on technology, genius. Learn to rely on yourself."

Saya hissed in frustration, but begrudgingly nodded after a sharp glare from her mother, who had overheard the conversation as she took a rest from shooting practice. "Fine. Teach me."

Even Alice and Akane, though too young to participate directly, weren't exempt. Guldrin knelt beside them, using wooden sticks to mimic knife handling techniques. "These aren't toys, Alice, Akane" he said, his tone gentle but firm. "If you ever have to use one, it's because there's no other choice. Understand?"

Alice nodded solemnly, her tiny hands gripping the stick with surprising determination. "I understand, Guldrin." Akane didn't speak but nodded, her grip tightening as she locked eyes with her sister who was watching, unsure if she wanted to join, but she was clearly softening up to the group.

The morning bled into the afternoon as the group rotated through stations. Exhaustion began to set in, sweat soaking through their clothes as muscles screamed for relief. Yet neither Rika nor Guldrin allowed them to stop. Mistakes were corrected immediately and often harshly. Every action was repeated until it became muscle memory.

Kohta's training evolved from basic stances to controlled bursts of fire. Guldrin set up targets with scavenged soda cans, making Kohta hit moving objects propelled by a makeshift sling. "Focus on leading your target," Guldrin instructed, demonstrating with a smooth, effortless shot that sent a can tumbling. "It's not just about aim, it's about prediction."

Kohta grunted, missing his next shot by a wide margin. "It's not as easy as it looks," he muttered.

"Of course not," Guldrin replied. "But you don't get a second chance out there. Keep at it." He tossed the slingshot to him, took out his pistol, and gestured forward, "Make it fly," Kohta nodded, pulled it back as far as it would go, and released. 

Guldrin was nonchalant as he smoked his cigar, but the second the can flew, Guldrin shifted into a different state, he was hyper-focused on everything, planting his feet, lowering his shoulder, and taking aim, he shot three times. Each shot hit its mark as was evident when Kohta went to check the can; one at the top, center, and bottom. He timed and predicted when the can, rotated, took aim, and fired; this amazed Kohta and motivated him to double his efforts.

Meanwhile, Rika ramped up the sniper training. Yuriko and Maki were stationed at elevated positions, their rifles trained on distant targets set up outside the warehouse. 

"Control your breathing," Rika coached. "Your heart rate can throw off your aim. Slow, steady, squeeze the trigger, don't yank it. Each beat of your heart should be your metronome, your internal conductor; use it as a guide, da-dump, da-dump, Fire, da-dump, Fire… Zone in, feel the wind, the heat, the distance, nothing else matters but when you pull that trigger, everything else should be instinct… da-dump, Fire."

Maki exhaled slowly, her finger brushing the trigger as she adjusted her aim. The crack of the shot echoed, and the target wobbled from the impact. "Bullseye!" she cheered, earning a rare nod of approval from Rika. Her daughter, Rina, was cheering for her alongside Akane and Alice.

Yuriko, however, remained focused, her gaze unwavering as she lined up her shot. Her rifle barked, and the target dropped without so much as a wobble. She lowered her weapon, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Not bad for someone who doesn't specialize in long-range," Rika admitted grudgingly.

By mid-afternoon, the group transitioned to endurance drills. Weighted backpacks, filled with scrap metal and canned goods, were strapped onto each member as they ran laps around the warehouse's perimeter. Shizuka, though not part of the physical training, hovered nearby with a medical kit, ready to intervene if anyone pushed too far. She had been treating the wounded today and had no chance to join, but to say she needed it would be a vast underestimation of her abilities. Rika being her best friend, had never allowed Shizuka to get rusty, if the times called for it, she could tango with most opponents, she had just never needed to.

"Come on!" Guldrin shouted, jogging alongside Alice, Rina, and Akane who were struggling to keep up with the older teens. "You've got this, Just one more lap! Come on guys!"

"I can't," panted Alice, tears of frustration brimming in her eyes.

"Yes, you can," Guldrin countered, his voice firm but encouraging. "You're stronger than you think."

Alice gritted her teeth, forcing her legs to move even as they trembled beneath her. Zeke barked encouragement from beside her, his tail wagging furiously. Akane and Rina leading, but only by a few feet, their exhaustion was to any who looked.

The evening brought a grudging end to the day's relentless training. The warehouse fell quiet save for the labored breathing of the group as they collapsed onto makeshift mats or leaned against crates, muscles screaming for relief. "My everything hurts." No one knew who said it, but they all echoed their sentiment… Shizuka moved among them, administering water and checking for any signs of overexertion. Her gentle demeanor was a welcome change to the brutal pace they had endured all day.

Rika stood near the center of the room, her sharp eyes assessing the state of each trainee. She was satisfied, though she didn't say it aloud. Despite their initial ineptitude, the group had shown remarkable resilience. Even Kohta, who had struggled the most, now held his rifle with a confidence born of hours of repetition and harsh correction; a few more months of this and she would claim them competent. Guldrin, too, seemed pleased, though his exhaustion showed in the way he leaned against a crate, wiping sweat from his brow. Even if they were teaching, it didn't mean he had any intention of letting them be the only ones to train, he was right beside them, his pack much heavier than the others.

As night fell, the group gathered around a small, controlled fire in a barrel, eating a sparse but filling meal. Conversations were subdued, the day's intensity leaving little room for anything but silent reflection. Afterward, most drifted off to find a corner of the warehouse to rest, their bodies too spent for further activity.

-

–

—

But for Guldrin, Rika, and Kohta, the night was far from over.

The trio moved to the upper levels of the warehouse, where narrow catwalks provided an ideal vantage point for their next task. Silencers were attached to their weapons, and Rika handed each of them a set of binoculars. The open areas outside the warehouse perimeter were littered with the undead, shambling aimlessly in the moonlight. They were a constant reminder of the threat that never truly disappeared.

"This is about precision and patience," Rika whispered, her voice low but commanding. "You miss, you learn. You shoot wild, you draw attention. We're not here to waste ammo."

Kohta nodded, his earlier jitters replaced by a focused determination. He had something to prove, not just to Rika or Guldrin, but to himself. He adjusted the scope of his rifle, his fingers steady despite the pounding of his heart. Furthermore, he may have been hailed as a genius marksman, but to Rika and Guldrin, he was an amateur.

Guldrin took his position at a window, his slightly smaller frame allowing him to sit on a stack of crates, bringing him to the perfect height to peer through the narrow reinforced slit windows. He peered through his rifle's sight, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horde below. "Pick your targets carefully," Guldrin murmured. "Go for the ones isolated from the group. Aim for the head. Quiet, clean, efficient."

Kohta exhaled slowly, his finger resting on the trigger. Through the scope, he focused on a lone zombie, its lurching movements sluggish. He lined up the shot, his breath steadying as he squeezed the trigger. The rifle emitted a muffled crack, and the zombie dropped, a neat hole in its skull.

"Nice," Rika said softly, her tone free of sarcasm for once. "Now do it again."

Guldrin was already firing, his shots precise and methodical. Each pull of the trigger resulted in a clean kill, his movements almost mechanical. He didn't need the system to tell him he was good at this, but the notification that followed each kill was a satisfying confirmation.

"Kill confirmed. Total zombie kills: +3."

The system's notifications had surprised him earlier: Kohta's and presumably Rika's kills now counted toward his total. It was a strange twist, one he intended to exploit.

Kohta followed suit, his confidence growing with each successful shot. His earlier mistakes during training seemed like a distant memory now. Each zombie that fell under his scope was a small victory, each shot raised his confidence, and Rika nodded before aiming her own Rifle.

Rika, as expected, was a force to be reckoned with. Her shots were swift and unerring, each one a masterclass in marksmanship. She didn't bother with praise or encouragement, focusing entirely on the task at hand. But her occasional glance at Kohta suggested a begrudging respect for the young man's efforts.

The hours passed in a grim rhythm: aim, fire, reload. The warehouse remained eerily silent save for the soft whispers of their rifles. The moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the scene. The horde outside thinned gradually, their numbers dwindling under the trio's relentless assault.

Guldrin's mind, however, was restless. The system's new mechanic gnawed at him. Why did their kills count toward his total? Was it some acknowledgment of their loyalty, or was there a deeper purpose at play? The notifications continued to roll in, and he was grinning like a madman; each kill was a step closer to many rewards, and the ability to return to his world.

"Kill confirmed. Total zombie kills: +3."

"Kill confirmed. Total zombie kills: +4."

A sudden movement caught his eye. A faster, more erratic figure had entered his field of vision, a runner. It zigzagged through the slower undead, its jerky movements making it harder to track. Guldrin tensed, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Runner," he muttered, just loud enough for Rika and Kohta to hear.

Rika shifted her aim, her rifle already tracking the target. "I see it. Hold your shot until you're sure."

Kohta's breathing quickened. He adjusted his scope, struggling to keep the runner in his sights. "It's too fast," he whispered, panic creeping into his voice.

"Steady," Guldrin said to himself, his tone firm. "You've got this. Aim, Fire, that is all there is to it."

The runner broke into a full sprint, heading straight for the warehouse. Guldrin took a deep breath, his mind clearing of all distractions. *Da-dump* He pulled the trigger. The silenced shot rang out, and the runner's head snapped back, its body collapsing mid-stride.

Kohta let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding his features. "That was amazing."

Guldrin didn't reply. His focus remained on the field below, scanning for any signs of retaliation. The horde was agitated, some of the zombies shifting toward the sound of the runner screeching before it died. But they were slow and disorganized. Easy pickings.

As the night wore on, fatigue began to set in. Kohta's shots grew less accurate, and even Rika's movements lost some of their sharpness, but her shots were still on point; a little fatigue wouldn't impede a sniper like her. Guldrin, however, seemed tireless, his focus unbroken. The system's notifications had become a steady stream, each one fueling his resolve.

"Kill confirmed. Total zombie kills: +7."

"New milestone reached: 350/500 kills. As a bonus, for achieving 100 kills in one day: An extra Reward has been added to the final completion."

He ignored the prompt, for now, filing it away for later. There was still work to be done.

By the time the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the area around the warehouse was eerily quiet. The horde had been decimated, their bodies littering the ground in grotesque heaps. The trio lowered their weapons, exhaustion finally catching up to them.

"Damn, there has got to be at least 100 bodies out there… we may have actually cleaned this area up quite a bit." Kohta, despite his exhaustion, was like a kid who just finished at the amusement park, the initial excitement may have gone, but now he was just giddy and overloaded with excitement. They were done for the day, but Kohta knew this would become a pass time for him in the following days.

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)