The shooting range was illuminated by daylight. The sunlight cast a sharp shadow of the figure on the shooting range onto the ground. Atlas continued to shoot arrows at the farthest corner of the range. He neither spoke nor hesitated. He placed the arrow he took from his quiver and released the bowstring.
While the other candidates were waking up, Atlas continued, unaware of what was happening around him.
“Huff...” he muttered to himself.
He approached the shelf where the quivers were lined up and took a new one. He caressed the bow in his hand with his fingertips and sighed deeply. This bow was the one he had chosen, but cracks were already beginning to form in its body. Breaking the bow given to him would result in serious consequences, but Atlas didn't care much about that.
“What do you think you're doing, Atlas?”
The voice made him turn around. Shooting Instructor Raziel was looking at him, arms crossed over his chest.
“Commander,” said Atlas, his voice emotionless and hollow.
“You didn't ask permission to scatter the field like this.”
Atlas bowed his head slightly; he wasn't stupid enough to be disrespectful. Glancing at the shooting range, he saw that the targets 50 meters and below had been turned into pincushions, hundreds of arrows stuck into different targets and even the grassy ground.
“I'm sorry, Commander, I got carried away.”
Instructor Raziel shook his head.
“You got carried away?”
Raziel looked at the targets again. When he noticed that even the 50-meter targets were bristling with arrows, he raised his eyebrows. Adaptation training was just preparatory training where rules were taught and basic information was given. It rarely went beyond basic archery training. Most students couldn't even learn how to hold and maintain a bow by the end of orientation training.
Raziel studied Atlas for a long time, then asked curiously.
“Can you take another shot?”
Atlas moved into shooting position without hesitation. He spread his feet shoulder-width apart and straightened his back. He lifted the bow and drew it back. His muscles tensed against the bow's resistance, but there was no sign of strain on his face.
Just the day before, he had struggled to draw this bow, but now it felt effortless. He drew the bow back smoothly to its full extent.
He focused on the target, the wooden figure forty-five meters away. Only then did Atlas realize his vision was clearer than before. The red circle in the center of the target seemed to be calling him.
He held his breath.
He released his fingers.
Whoosh!
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The arrow tore through the air toward the target and stuck right in the center. Atlas immediately took another arrow. With the same movement, expressionless, he drew the bow at the same speed and released. The second arrow stuck right next to the first, almost touching it.
Third arrow. Fourth arrow. Fifth arrow.
Each one as powerful as the last, flawless, each one destined to strike the heart of the target...
“Enough,” said Raziel, his voice tense.
Atlas paused.
“A week ago, you struggled even to place the arrow on the bowstring. Your Mana level is still the same, meaning you haven't leveled up. How did you improve so quickly?” asked Instructor Raziel.
Classes were also divided into levels within themselves. They ranged from Level 1 to Level 10. After Level 10, the requirements for Expertise had to be met. It was impossible to do this without reaching Level 10.
Atlas had leveled up within himself, but the world also measured levels based on Mana amount. He wouldn't be considered to have leveled up unless he increased his intelligence stat and raised his Mana amount. Moreover, leveling up wasn't easy. Atlas didn't think the system and the world shared similar concepts of levels.
“I train every morning, Commander,” said Atlas.
Raziel looked at Atlas for a long time.
“True,” he said finally. “Still, you've made surprising progress.”
Raziel thought for a moment before speaking.
“Still, you're punished. You'll clean up this place during breakfast.”
---
After the meeting, Atlas went to the shooting range while everyone else headed to the cafeteria. After cleaning up the area for a while, he surveyed his surroundings.
“Since all the instructors are in the cafeteria...”
He had more than ten minutes to spare.
He left the shooting range and went to Orion's tent.
He quietly lifted the cloth at the entrance to the tent. Inside, it was dim, with items arranged with military precision... But something was wrong.
‘Too tidy for a student.’
Cleanliness and order were two things that were very important in military discipline, but Atlas sensed something strange here.
Atlas tiptoed forward. His eyes immediately fell on the small table next to the bed. On the table were several books on plants and a notebook. He opened the notebook and glanced through it, realizing it did not belong to Orion.
'A proud and intelligent person...'
After glancing over the bunks in the tent again, Atlas noticed that the top sheet and blanket were missing from the bunk in the far corner.
‘This must be the place.’
He rummaged through the bed for a while but couldn't find anything and felt disappointed. Yet he was as sure as his name that Orion had a diary. Finding nothing on top, he bent down and looked under the bed. There was a small chest under the bed.
When he pulled the chest out, he realized it wasn't as light as it looked—there was something inside. However, it was locked with a combination mechanism. There was a small LCD screen on top of the mechanism. Each time he pressed a key, star symbols appeared. The keypad was numbered from 1 to 9.
Atlas cursed his luck. With these types of locks, after three incorrect entries, the mechanism locked, and no key entries could be made until it was opened with a master key. This was the worst-case scenario. Orion would definitely be suspicious.
“123456.”
With no other option, Atlas entered a random password. But when he saw the ERROR! message on the screen, he frowned. Orion wasn't as stupid as he thought.
‘Think, think... What password would a military high school graduate use?’
These types of passwords were usually personal. Thinking about how self-centered Orion was, Atlas considered entering the numerical equivalent of his name in the alphabet, but that would be seven digits.
“Or maybe?”
139181.
When Atlas entered the password, the lock clicked and the chest opened.
“Your love brings tears to my eyes.”
What a blessing that the password was the numerical equivalent of his lover's name in the alphabet.
Atlas raised his eyebrows when he saw the contents of the chest.
Inside the chest was a detailed sketch, several sleeping pills, a few notes written on notebook paper, and...
A pistol.
Atlas held the gun with his uniform sleeve to avoid fingerprints and examined it. No institution other than the police used firearms. A Level 4 Mana user could easily defeat firearms like a pistol. Such weapons were only useful against the candidates at the camp.
Atlas checked if the gun had a serial number.
It did.
'Those under twenty cannot obtain a gun license. An Archer would prefer to use a knife rather than a pistol. It can't be illegal. The serial number is here. The instructors must have given it to him.'
Another thing that caught his attention was the sketch. Looking closely, it was a sketch of the Forest Camp. Some points were marked. Atlas didn't know where the marked areas were. However, he made sure to memorize them.
Finally, there were sleeping pills and small notes. He ignored the sleeping pills. When he glanced at the notes, he realized they were from Mira. There were various meeting times and locations. Atlas couldn't have guessed the young girl's handwriting was so bad. However, thinking it might be useful, he examined it for a minute, put everything back, and left the tent.
After leaving the tent, he returned to the shooting range and gathered everything else.
A few hours later.
In the afternoon, everyone had gathered at the training ground. The dusty ground of the training ground was heated by the sharp light of the sun at its zenith. The smell of sweat, earth, and steel mingled in the air.
Instructor Laedar stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the candidates lined up in a circle around him. After waiting a moment, he turned around and began to give information about close combat training. Very few of the students came from military high schools; therefore, they had not received martial arts training. However, Atlas did not listen to the instructor very much. He was waiting for Orion to call him into the circle.
For ten minutes, Instructor Laedar talked about stances, things to pay attention to, and how a martial artist should behave. At the end of ten minutes, everyone was dozing off when Orion raised his hand.
