"Bang, bang, bang!"
Following the gunfire echoing through the shooting range, a series of white clay pigeons flying in mid-air were pierced, one after another, falling to the ground in rapid succession.
Lin Qing paused, returned his empty black handgun to its holster, and took off his shooting glasses and earmuffs, waiting for the shooting coach to retrieve the broken targets.
"Lin Qing."
Moments later, a young woman with her hair in a high ponytail, dressed in a light jacket and a crop top, walked over quickly holding the clay targets. Her alluring, slender figure—especially her fair, long legs beneath her shorts—caused the coaches and students in the nearby lounge area to cast frequent glances her way. One of the main reasons this shooting range was so popular was the presence of these beautiful instructors.
"Coach An." Lin Qing handed her the handgun and his gear, smiling, "Let's call it a day for the training. I’m heading back."
"Lin Qing, you’re just too amazing." Coach An couldn't help but exclaim, "There are hardly any people in this range who can match your marksmanship. Even Captain Chu from the criminal police team and your cousin, the Patrol Team captain, can’t compare to you."
"They’re already quite strong themselves; they don’t really need to practice their shooting as much," Lin Qing shrugged.
"Don't you have no need for a gun either?" Coach An sighed, "You’re a real genius. How can someone so young shoot so accurately?"
Lin Qing offered a non-committal smile and added, "By the way, Coach An, I’ll come for one final practice tomorrow, and then I won’t be coming back."
"Not coming back?" Coach An was slightly stunned. A trace of disappointment flashed in her eyes, but she managed a strained smile. "I suppose that's true. Your marksmanship reached its limit days ago. Unless you improve your physical foundation and nervous system response speed, your shooting level won't see any further progress. Continuing to train... really would be a waste of time."
"I don't shoot for the sake of training; it's just a hobby." Lin Qing took off his shooting jacket and said softly, "I have to report for duty tonight, so I’ll head out now."
"Alright, see you tomorrow."
Watching Lin Qing’s back disappear through the doorway, Coach An finally turned around and began gathering his gear.
"Muxi." A tall, short-haired female coach walked over with a grin. "I just heard Lin Qing say tomorrow is his last day?"
Coach An nodded, looking slightly helpless.
"Doesn't that mean you’ve missed your chance?" The short-haired coach teased, "I figured since his marksmanship is so incredible, him spending every day in this range and wasting so many bullets meant the little guy was just trying to get close to you."
Coach An went silent for a moment, then shook her head. "His cousin is a Patrol Team captain. He uses her training quota, hits his hundred rounds, and leaves. He never tries to approach me privately."
"But don't you think this guy is a bit strange?" the short-haired coach asked. "Only Patrol Department personnel have the right to carry guns, don't they? I heard he’s just a temp—not even an official patrol officer—and he’s still in his final year of high school. What use is there in practicing shooting?"
"Maybe it's just a hobby?" Coach An hesitated. "Besides, maybe he'll be made permanent one day. If he gets promoted to the Patrol Department, won't he have to pass a marksmanship test anyway?"
"Promoted to the Patrol Department?" The short-haired coach laughed, amused. "You really do see a hero through the eyes of a lover. I admit his marksmanship is great, and he might pass the professional exam, but I’ve coached officers from the Patrol Bureau, and I know a few things."
"They say the most important requirement for promotion to the Patrol Department is mastering the '46th Edition Chaoyang Practice Method.' Think about how few people actually manage that." She shook her head. "If he had any real promise, his cousin wouldn't just have him idling as a temp, would she? Getting him a permanent position would be easy enough."
"Then it must just be a hobby," Coach An said, shaking her head slightly.
"Find a new target," the short-haired coach advised. "Handsome younger guys with such marksmanship are rare, but in this era, being a good shot alone isn't very useful."
"...I just feel like he's different from the others." Coach An hesitated, then said helplessly, "Laugh if you want, but I really have that feeling. He's only eighteen, yet sometimes he seems more mature and steady than most people I know."
"Oh?" The short-haired coach thought for a moment. "Then why don't you try again?"
...
When Lin Qing walked out of the shooting range, night had fallen, and dim streetlights were flickering to life along the road.
Not far from the entrance, a grey-white autonomous vehicle was waiting. Seeing it was the one he had booked online, he walked over quickly, passed facial and iris recognition, and got in.
"Passenger with phone suffix 1585 confirmed. Destination: 'Tieshi Street – Junyuan – West Gate.' Route planned. Departing now. Total distance 7.9 kilometers, estimated arrival in 3 minutes and 45 seconds. Please sit tight and fasten your seatbelt."
As the vehicle accelerated onto the road, Lin Qing checked his phone and saw a WeChat message from Coach An.
[There's a shooting competition next month, want to join? I can help you register. I'll help you familiarize yourself with the rules lately. Just treat me to a meal once you place! (Playful)]
Lin Qing thought for a second and replied:
[No need, I'm busy lately. Thanks.]
Although he was only eighteen in this life, he had lived for over twenty years in his previous one; he wasn't blind to the fact that this instructor was looking to "roast the tender grass."
After all, his appearance in this life was quite decent, and he happened to be her type—young and a good shot—so his lack of money didn't matter. He wasn't entirely uninterested in this attractive, long-legged coach, but he simply kept his guard up.
Women couldn't affect his draw speed, but they could certainly tear his heart out and teach him a lesson—then chop him up to make stew. That was a conclusion he’d reached in his past life through lessons written in blood.
"One more day at the range, and that should be enough to settle the debt for 'Master Gunsmith'."
Lin Qing pondered for a moment, then whispered in his mind: "Order."
Instantly, lines of luminous text appeared before his eyes.
[All things tend toward chaos, only Order is eternal.]
[When you hold the reins of Order, the future is clear. You may reverse cause and effect, pluck the fruit, and advance the future.]
[Anti-Entropist initializing...]
A massive waterfall of illegible symbols and data flooded his vision, eventually condensing into a glowing panel.
————
[Current Order Level: 0.3]
[Available Advance Projects: 0/1]
[Advanced Projects: Master Gunsmith (99.7% completed)]
[Available for Advance: 46th Edition Chaoyang Practice Method, Military Combat, Sketching, Calligraphy, Cooking, Street Dance, Intimate Arts...]
[Mastered Projects (Hidden)]
————
"99.7%... that's just about right," Lin Qing muttered to himself.
This panel, called the "Anti-Entropist," was a cheat he’d awakened in his past life. Or perhaps it was his own innate talent—though it was trivial, really. He still had to rely on his own hard work.
The usage was simple: any skill he was theoretically capable of mastering in the future could be mastered immediately, achieving the goal upfront. The price was that once the goal was reached, he had to complete the process required to actually attain it.
In short: get on the train first, buy the ticket later.
In a word: advance the future.
In a lifestyle: credit.
For others, it was ten years of work offstage for one minute onstage. He could choose to take the minute onstage first, then spend the next ten years practicing to earn it.
That was how he’d acquired "Master Gunsmith." In his past life, years after the apocalypse began, he’d found a pistol and a small bag of bullets in an abandoned police car while being hunted by enemies. To turn the tables, he had to use the Anti-Entropist to advance "Master Gunsmith."
Given his shooting talent in his past life, the Anti-Entropist projected that he needed 4,700 precision shots to reach the level of a master. So, after advancing the skill, he had to practice until he hit that number.
Although a Master Gunsmith could ensure every shot was precise, he still needed the 4,700 rounds. But in the apocalypse, where was he supposed to find that many bullets?
Combat and fitness skills didn't require external resources, so he could catch up on those anytime, but bullets were a real obstacle. By the time he died in the apocalypse, he still hadn't found enough, falling short by nearly 2,800 rounds.
The number of advanceable projects was linked to his "Order Level." Since that level wouldn't rise, he was stuck with only one slot, occupied by "Master Gunsmith," preventing him from advancing anything else.
Now that he had transmigrated to this future era, he made it his priority to finish the skill. Fortunately, his cousin was a Patrol Team captain; by using her quota, he could practice at the range for free, with a hundred rounds provided daily. Twenty-seven days later, the training was almost complete.
"Indeed, it all depends on my own hard work..." Lin Qing looked forward to tomorrow. "After I finish 'Master Gunsmith,' I can advance the '46th Edition Chaoyang Practice Method'."
Since he would eventually succeed anyway, he was just enjoying the fruits of his labor early. How could that not count as his own hard work?
...
After exiting the autonomous vehicle, Lin Qing walked into the Junyuan residential area toward his home. He remained vigilant, observing his surroundings without leaving a trace. This wasn't just a habit from surviving the apocalypse; it was because his [Current Order Level] was only 0.3.
He found it baffling. He lived in a society with a semblance of law and order, yet the "Order Level" was a meager 0.3. This metric was entirely dependent on whether his life was peaceful. In his past life, after the apocalypse, it stayed around 0.2 because there were crises everywhere—his life couldn't be peaceful.
Why was it no better now? The low level hung over him like a heavy stone, preventing him from ever dropping his guard. He couldn't move to a safer place, so he had to be careful.
Back home, Lin Qing entered in the dark, and as he walked into his bedroom, his phone screen lit up, beginning to charge automatically. The room was half-lit by the light coming through the window. He looked up, startled by the scene outside.
It was a city that never slept.
The distant skyline was composed of soaring skyscrapers and streamlined mega-structures. Brilliant, colorful advertising screens and light shows flickered high above the city, clearly visible even from this edge-of-town district. Even as the night swallowed half the planet, it couldn't overcome the levee formed by the city’s light.
This was the most dazzling "Metropolitan Area" of Binhai in the year 2120.
Lin Qing had been in this era for a month, so this wasn't his first time seeing it. What caught his eye was a massive 3D projection at the highest point in the city center. It was a fair-haired man in luxurious attire who looked like an Earthling, but in the center of his forehead was a half-closed third eye. Electric sparks shimmered within its pupil, giving him an indescribably mysterious aura. Amidst the myriad lights, he sat high above the city like a titan, enjoying the adoration of countless people.
Even from outside the Metropolitan Area, Lin Qing couldn't hear what the three-eyed man was saying, but beneath the massive projection, lines of brilliant 3D subtitles floated by.
"...Our Zhixing Group has always been optimistic about Earth's future, which is why we developed the Metropolitan Area. This additional investment is also in hopes that Earth will produce more elite talent, like the founder of the Chaoyang Martial Arts Hall..."
Lin Qing opened his phone's camera, zoomed in on the subtitles three times, and read them slowly. He then lowered the phone, lost in thought.
"Earth has indeed integrated with extraterrestrial civilizations..." he murmured. "After going through an apocalypse, the newborn civilization has developed so rapidly?"
He lowered his head to look at the dim, dilapidated streets below his window.
It was 2120, yet most of the buildings here retained the look of the last century—walls mottled, paint peeling, suffering from the ravages of time and the apocalypse, left behind by the era. The remnants of neon signs flickered, sometimes lighting up, sometimes dying out, as if recounting a glorious past. This district was an orphan of time, forgotten by the rapidly developing city.
Lin Qing understood well that the dazzling Metropolitan Area was merely an unattainable mirage, while this dilapidated district was the reality of his life.
As for the interstellar integration, the Star Alliance, genetic optimization, and high-tech living... did that have anything to do with him? Compared to the superior environment of the Metropolitan Area, life outside of it was little better than a slum. Security was weak, the transient population was diverse, and muggings and burglaries were commonplace. Gangs held sway, and the situation was quite chaotic.
Moreover, if the Order Level was only 0.3, it couldn't just be the visible chaos. There had to be more severe, hidden dangers.
"Something is definitely wrong with this era..." Lin Qing felt an unease, as if he were walking on thin ice. "I can't wait for danger to find me before I think about how to deal with it... I must acquire the ability to protect myself as soon as possible."
He was accustomed to thinking of danger in times of peace. To others, this might look like paranoid delusions, but without this mindset, he never could have survived the apocalypse for so many years.
"Ding."
Suddenly, his phone chimed. It was a WeChat message.
[Cousin: We have an emergency operation tonight, the danger level is quite high. You shouldn't come; I've already asked for leave for you.]
Lin Qing thought for a moment and replied with a simple "Okay."
He set his phone down, shaking his head. "Whenever there's a dangerous mission, she just calls in sick for me."
His cousin, Chen Yanan, was a captain in the Xiaoshan District Patrol Bureau. Ever since his parents died in the line of duty, her family had taken great care of him; she was more like an older sister than a cousin. Since he turned eighteen and no longer qualified for his monthly relief check, she had used her authority to get him into the Patrol Team as an external temp.
In this era, the government had separated the "Patrol" system from the standard public security. Its main function, besides assisting the police, was the search for "suspicious anomalies."
However, most of the time, the work was very easy. Lin Qing just idled away his time and earned 2,600 a month. It was a good job—easy and decent pay. And whenever there was a dangerous mission, his cousin adamantly refused to let him participate, clearing his absence before he even had a chance to report for duty.
His predecessor often felt embarrassed by this, but Lin Qing thought it was perfect. As a high school senior posing as a patrolman without benefits or security, why would he risk his life for 2,600 a month?
"Though, once I’m made permanent, I won't be able to do this anymore," Lin Qing sighed.
The best path he could think of was becoming a full-time patrolman. It was backed by the World Government and offered many benefits, such as opportunities to learn Chaoyang martial arts or even "Combat Techniques." For an ordinary person whose aptitude wasn't enough to get into the Chaoyang Martial Arts Hall, this was the best way to improve his strength.
Most importantly, the career path of a patrolman fit his "Anti-Entropist" talent quite well. He was currently struggling because his Order Level was too low; if he could advance even one more skill, it would be much easier. Plus, with Chen Yanan as a captain, he had a sliver of backing.
"Become permanent first, then promote to the Patrol Department, and get my right to carry a gun." Lin Qing had already planned it out.
"Study."
Lin Qing opened the patrol professional manual he’d prepared on his phone and began reading rapidly. The promotion exam included a written section, which was notoriously troublesome. His cousin had spent over a year failing it before finally passing through a combination of merit points and luck.
However, to him, such exams were not difficult. Before the apocalypse, he had been a high school student. After awakening the Anti-Entropist, he had advanced a "Memory Master" skill. While he couldn't recall everything he ever saw, he was essentially a top-tier scholar in the humanities. It would have taken over a decade to reach that level naturally; he had spent two years just finishing the "training" process for that skill alone.
It was just a shame that before he could shine in the college entrance exams, the apocalypse arrived.
Skills advanced by the Anti-Entropist didn't seem to disappear. Even in this life, he hadn't lost his memory mastery. With this learning ability, he was confident he could pass the professional exams within a month or two.
Time ticked by.
"Buzz—"
His phone vibrated. The caller ID read "Cousin."
A call from his cousin so late at night? Lin Qing was confused and picked up.
"Hello, Cousin?"
"What? How did she...?"
"Xiaoshan District People's Hospital? Okay, I'm on my way."
After hanging up, Lin Qing frowned. "A temporary operation tonight... and my cousin was seriously injured and is in the emergency room?"
Even though it was one in the morning, with his cousin in such a state, he had to go. He walked over to the coat rack, thought for a moment, and didn't reach for his black temporary patrol uniform, opting instead for his old jacket.
The streets weren't safe at night; this was when the darkness reigned. Though the Patrol Team was an official body, he was just a temp without credentials or enforcement authority. The thugs and criminals didn't fear his uniform. If he were alone, it would only make him a target. It was better not to wear it.
After putting on his jacket, pulling his collar up to hide his face, and putting on a cap, he grabbed a bone-cleaving knife from the kitchen and tucked a fruit knife into his pocket. Armed by habit, Lin Qing stepped out into the night.