It was my first time coming to the firearms training ground, but I already had a rough idea of its location.

After all, I’d been keeping track of where the soldiers gathered whenever I walked to the mess hall.

The moment I entered, several soldiers turned to stare at me.

Well, obviously. I’d done nothing but sleep since arriving here.

There were only three soldiers currently training—Norman and two other juniors.

I walked up to them.

"Norman, I want to practice."

Norman froze in place, looking startled that I had actually spoken to him first. Then, as if shaken awake, he rushed to the storage area to grab a firearm for me.

"That was... fast?"

Normally, the upper-ranked soldiers followed my orders begrudgingly, always delaying by claiming they had other priorities to handle first.

But today?@@novelbin@@

Norman was moving like his life depended on it.

"...The hell?"

I took the firearm from him and examined it.

"A rifle?"

It was one of the new models I had seen during guerrilla training—the kind that was only just starting to be issued in some battalions.

My old unit hadn’t gotten these yet, but since Snowy Mountain Battalion faced more dangerous threats, they had already started using them.

It felt heavier in my hands than my previous firearm, but I already knew how to use it.

"Hmm."

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