The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 86
EP.86 Solution (2)
“Hmm.”
Jennifer stood contemplating the firearms Lena and I had brought. Although she was known for her unconventional teaching style, she couldn’t completely abandon textbook-based lessons. After completing our field training, she’d been using the textbook for our classes. It was only today that we were back outside for a practical exercise, but the issue was that our firearms were far from ideal for this “mock combat” situation.
Bolt-action rifles and shotguns weren’t an issue since they required reloading after every shot or two, making it easy to monitor if someone was cheating. My revolver was similarly manageable; with its double-action mechanism, the hammer’s movement was visible, so you could tell if someone was firing without reloading.
However, the semi-automatic pistol was another matter. Unless the ammunition inside ignited, the weapon didn’t move on its own. The new model created by the craftsman did have a visible hammer at the back, but it functioned as a single-action firearm, so the hammer didn’t visibly move when the trigger was pulled.
Expecting us to handle these guns as if they were firing airsoft rounds, pausing to reload after every shot, seemed odd in a “real-world” simulation. And then there was the added complexity of reloading, partially empty magazines, and handling partially-used magazines. The number of possible situations was endless.
Moreover, neither Lena nor I relied on just one type of firearm. Lena used two semi-automatics, while I had a semi-automatic, a revolver, a rifle, and a shotgun.
As if that weren’t enough, we even used specialized ammunition crafted from Marmaros. Determining whether a shot counted as a hit or not became nearly impossible.
“…”
After a long silence, Jennifer finally spoke.
“…The two of you will train separately over the weekend.”
Ugh.
*
“So, I’m familiar with what Meyer uses, but your gun’s a new one, isn’t it?”
Jennifer said, examining the weapon I held.
That’s because it’s a prototype. It didn’t even have a name yet, so there was nothing engraved on the slide.
“Did you get it from the craftsman?”
“Yes.”
When I nodded, Jennifer nodded as well and said,
“And that’s a new type of ammunition, too. He said he was working hard on it last time we met. So this must be the gun he mentioned.”
“…”
I kept my silence. While Jennifer was an exception, I generally avoided sharing detailed information about my equipment with others, as per the agreement for receiving the gun.
News of my exploits on the battlefield had reached the capital a bit late. Since the most critical factor for military firearms was reliability in all conditions, I could understand why the craftsman had entrusted this weapon to me. He’d likely loaned it out as a sort of field test, knowing I’d be putting it through a lot in varied environments.
Besides, this gun only existed as a limited number of spares kept at Browning’s workshop. If it needed repairs, I’d have to bring it back to him, meaning he’d have a complete account of any issues or jams that occurred.
“…….”
“Well, fine. I know the skills of that craftsman well. Besides, if it’s a gun you chose yourself, there shouldn’t be any major issues.”
As Jennifer handed the gun back to me, I nodded.
“I’m already familiar with the Model 98. Believe it or not, I have some experience in the northern battlefields.”
Jennifer remarked, to which Lena nodded in acknowledgment.
“Alright. I thought about different ways to assess your abilities, but…”
Jennifer shrugged slightly before addressing us again.
“Since you both have weapons that are nearly useless without live ammunition, I figured it would be best to conduct this test with live rounds.”
She pointed toward an area built from stacked logs—it was hard to say whether it was a trench or a bunker, but it resembled both. Unlike a real trench dug into the ground, this structure was built above ground, allowing easy access through its entrance. The log interior gave it the feel of an authentic trench, with side nooks and a chamber-like area reminiscent of a small room. Though not particularly large, it would likely take at least a minute to traverse from one end to the other.
“From above, you can see the whole inside clearly.”
Jennifer added with a strangely pleased expression. And it was worth being proud of—this entire training area had been built in just two days.
While it had the appearance of a classic World War-style trench, its purpose was closer to a modern shooting range.
“This will also be useful for other students.”
She noted.
In the original story, however, there was no such setup. Most likely, because nobles typically didn’t train with firearms, there was no reason to build a shooting range. Essentially, if it weren’t for Lena and me, this place wouldn’t exist.
“It’ll be a live-ammo exercise. Both of you are alright with that, yes? Oh, and don’t use Marmaros rounds. The workers who spent two days on this setup wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“…”
Right. That would make sense.
Even if they were paid, it would feel pretty demoralizing to see their hard work go up in flames after only one use.
*
Lena went in first.
Holding a pistol in each hand, each loaded with eight rounds plus one chambered, she had enough ammunition for the exercise. The targets, after all, were just wooden boards that popped up at random from spring-loaded mechanisms, so they weren’t particularly dangerous.
I had wondered how they managed to create springing targets without electricity, and it turned out each target was meticulously wound up with a spring and set to pop up when released. …Another reason Jennifer had probably requested no Marmaros ammunition; these targets seemed expensive and prone to malfunction, unsuited for frequent use.
Plus, resetting the targets manually took time, so it wasn’t very practical for other students to use.
“I will make sure to learn as much as I can.”
During this time, Lena spoke to me.
“…”
Turning my gaze to the sudden sound of Lena’s voice, I saw her eyes filled with determination.
“Although it is very different from the battlefield where Your Highness excelled, I consider this a valuable opportunity to glimpse even a fragment of that experience.”
She couldn’t be saying this just to mess with me, right?
Looking at her sparkling eyes, it didn’t seem that way at all.
“Oh, really?”
Jennifer said, appearing just in time as she wrapped up her work.
“In that case, feel free to join us up there.”
“Really?”
Lena asked, her eyes lighting up.
I gave Jennifer a silent stare, wondering why she’d make such an unnecessary suggestion, but she only shrugged.
*
Alright, fine.
I decided I’d try my own approach. If Lena was the type to embody “romantic ideals,” then what kind of character should I be? The opposite of romantic, perhaps? “Tactical” might be a better term.
Extreme practicality can be its own kind of appeal, right? Take, for example, John Wick, though he’s unrealistic in other ways. Essentially, the goal was to make it look “impressive.” As the tactics shifted from traditional formations to modern combat, I could draw on my knowledge of modern shooting techniques.
Click.
The spring-loaded mechanism activated, raising targets. This time, two enemies popped up side-by-side. I took aim at one with my shotgun and fired. Since this wasn’t my own customized shotgun fitted with Marmaros rounds, but rather one borrowed from the academy, the rounds were standard.
Still, even a borrowed shotgun is a shotgun, and I could modify a few parts to resemble my usual weapon. After firing at the first target, I let the empty shotgun drop, suspending it from a single sling that hung just below my chest. Unlike the typical rifle sling, which runs from end to end, my strap looped around my neck and shoulder, keeping the shotgun at an easily reachable position instead of letting it dangle.
Swiftly, I dropped my right hand to my waist holster, drawing my pistol. Gripping it with both hands, I fired.
Bang! Bang!
Two shots to the chest.
I advanced forward, dispatching each subsequent target with two shots. After emptying the magazine, I reloaded, slotting in seven fresh rounds, holstered the pistol, and moved toward the spot where the last enemy had appeared.
On my right thigh was a holster carrying six rounds in pairs. I grabbed two rounds and inserted them into the shotgun’s loading port in one quick motion. Repeating the process twice, I reloaded the shotgun and emerged outside.
Two more targets sprang up. I fired a shot at each of them.
…And, that was the end of the range.
“Phew.”
Exhaling softly, I looked up.
Jennifer was watching me with a smile that I couldn’t quite read. But—
—Lena was staring at me, wide-eyed with amazement.
Seems like pestering the craftsman for military-grade equipment over the past two days was worth it. All those late-night drills, tirelessly practicing reloads… and even sneaking into the newly-built range last night for some extra practice…
It all paid off.