《Freshman internship, you went to Wagner as a mercenary?》 1.Was I Too Kind-Hearted? ×¢Ò⣬ÏÖÔÚÔÚÍ߸ñÄÉÓ¶±ø»ùµØÃæÊÔµÄ˧¸ç½Ð³Á·É£¬Ê®°ËË꣬ÒâÍâ´©Ô½µ½ÁËÎÚÀ­¶ûÁª°î£¬Éí·ÝÊÇ£¿´óÒ»ÁôѧÉú¡£ ×÷ΪһÃû¿Õ¹ÛÕߣ¬ËûÒ²ÓÐ×Ô¼ºµÄϵͳ¡£É±ËÀµÐÈË£¬¼¼Äܾͻ᲻ºÃ¡£¼òµ¥¶ø²Ð¿á¡£ ΪÁËÑ°ÕÒ¼¤»îϵͳµÄ»ú»á£¬³Á·ÉÑ¡ÔñÁËÈ¥ÎÚÀ­¶ûÁª°îÁôѧ£¬ÔÚ´Ë֮ǰ£¬ËûÃæÊÔ¹ýÒøÐб£°²¡¢ÉͽðÁÔÈË¡¢¼àÓüʳÌ÷þÎñÔ±¡¢¶Ä³¡·þÎñÔ±£¬ÉõÖÁÐÄÀí×Éѯ³É¹¦Ê¦¡­¡­µ«ÎÞÒ»¡£ ¹ÍÓ¶±øÊÇËûÄÜÏëµ½µÄ×îºóÒ»¸öºÏ·¨µÄɱµÐÖ°Òµ£¬Èç¹ûÕâÐв»Í¨µÄ»°£¬Ëû¾ÍÖ»ºÃ×·Ëæ Ç°ÊÀÄÇÈ˵ĽŲ½£¬Ö±½ÓÈ¥¿Ë¸ñ²ª½Ó´ýÊÒÊÔÒ»ÊÔÁË¡£ ¸ºÔðÃæÊÔµÄÊÇÒ»¸öÖÐÄêÄÐ×Ó£¬ÑÛÉñÐ׺ݣ¬ÑÛ¾¦Ïñ»úÆ÷ÈËÒ»Ñù£¬Ëû·ÅϳÁ·ÉµÄÎļþ£¬ËµµÀ£º¡°³Á·ÉÏÈÉú£¬Í߸ñÄÉÊÇÒ»¼Ò´ó¹«Ë¾£¬ÎÒÃÇÖ÷ÒªÕÐÊÕÍËÎé¾üÈË¡¢ÍËÐݾ¯²ì»òÕßÓÐÆäËûÌØÊâ±³¾°µÄÈË¡£¡±µ«ÊÇ´ÓÄãµÄÎļþÉÏ£¬ÎÒÃÇ¿´²»³öÓÐÈκηûºÏÕâЩÌõ¼þµÄ¶«Î÷¡£¡±¡°½ÓÏÂÀ´£¬ÎÒÃÇ»áÎÊÄ㼸¸öÎÊÌ⣬Ȼºó¾ö¶¨ÊÇ·ñ½ÓÊÜÄã³ÉΪÍ߸ñÄɵĽ¾°ÁÒ»Ô±¡£¡±¡°Èç¹ûÄãÔÚÖ´ÐÐÒ»´Î°µÉ±ÈÎÎñºó£¬·¢ÏÖÒ»¸öСÄк¢¶ãÔÚ·½¿éÀ¶øËû¿ÉÄܻᱩ¶ÄãµÄÉí·Ý£¬Äã»áÔõô×ö£¿¡±
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¡°³Á·É£¬Îҷdz£Ï²»¶ÄãµÄ»Ø´ð¡£¡± ËûÒÔΪʧ°Ü»á°éËæ×ÅËûÒ»Éú£¬ÉõÖÁÒòΪÄÇ°ï»ìµ°£¬µÃÁËÑÏÖصĴ´É˺ó·ÖÊÖ£¡ÎÞÒâÖУ¬Ò»´ÎÀýÐеIJɷ㬰ïËû½â¿ªÁËËùÓеÄÐĽᣬÈÃËû»íÈ»¿ªÀÊ¡£ ¿È¿È£¬ Ñ۽ǻúеÄÐ×ÓÖåüÌáÐѵÀ£º¡°½ð±Ò£¬¿ØÖÆÒ»ÏÂ×Ô¼ºµÄÇéÐ÷¡£¡± ¡°³ÁÏÈÉú£¬ÄúµÄÇé¿öÎÒÃÇÒѾ­»ù±¾Á˽⣬ÄÜ·ñ¼ȡÄú½øÈëÍ߸ñÄÉѧԺ£¬»¹ÐèÒª½øÒ»²½¿¼ÂÇ£¬Äú»ØÈ¥µÈÎÒÃǵÄ֪ͨ°É¡£¡± ³Á·ÉÒ»Á³Òɻ󣺡°Ä㻹ÐèÒª¿¼ÂÇʲô£¿²»ÊÇÒòΪÎҵĻشðÌ«Õý³£ÁË£¿¡±¡°Èç¹ûÄã²»ÂúÒâËûÃǵĻ°£¬ÆäʵÎÒ»¹ÓоÅÖÖ·½·¨¿ÉÒÔ½â¾ö֮ǰµÄÎÊÌâ¡£¡±¡°±ÈÈç˵£¬ÎÒ¿ÉÒÔÀûÓÃÕâ¸ö»îÏÂÀ´µÄСÄк¢×÷ΪÈËÌåÀ״׷×ÙÆäËûµÐÈË£¬È»ºóÒ»´ÎÐÔ½«È«²¿Ïûʧ¡£¡±¡°»òÕߣ¬Èç¹ûÄã¾õµÃ¿³µ¶²»¹»²Ð±©µÄ»°£¬ÎÒ¿ÉÒÔÌáÇ°×¼±¸Ò»µ¶¡­¡­¡± 2.Can I bear this injustice? I just bought a pistol! "Seriously, a machete is too brutal, so you carry a smaller knife instead?" In just under ten minutes of interviewing, Shen Fei had left the room full of notoriously ruthless mercenaries utterly bewildered. Some of them even felt the urge to advise him to be a little kinder and less extreme. The man with the cybernetic eye neatly organized Shen Fei¡¯s resume and politely said, "Mr. Shen, our company has its own procedures, and we hope you can understand. However, personally, I have no objections to you¡ªin fact, I¡¯m very impressed." "Some of your ideas have practically opened the door to a whole new world for our industry." "Rest assured, we will give your application serious consideration." Shen Fei took the folder and said, "Alright, before I leave, could I ask you all for a favor?" The interviewer previously referred to as "Gold Coin" responded, "Go ahead." Shen Fei pulled out an application form from his backpack and explained, "I want to buy a gun, but the staff at the gun store told me I either need a firearms license or a guarantor who has one." "I¡¯d like to hire one of you to be my guarantor." The man with the cybernetic eye instinctively asked, "You''re an international student. Why do you need a gun?" Shen Fei sighed and replied, "The ''Russian Sun Emperor'' just stepped down, and Volodin''s policies since taking office have been extreme. Most people in your country have a very unfriendly attitude toward Chinese nationals." "Discrimination is everywhere." "As an international student, I just want to protect myself." The Ural Federation he had time-traveled to was eerily similar to the historical landscape of the early 2000s from his past life. However, there were some notable differences. For example, the Wagner Group in front of him¡ªin his past life, it wouldn¡¯t have been established until around 2014. "Makes perfect sense," the hot-tempered Gold Coin nodded, pulling a pistol from his waist and handing it over. "Here, take this Glock G17. The magazine¡¯s full, and there¡¯s one in the chamber¡ª18 rounds should be enough for self-defense." "Consider it a thank-you for helping me clear my mind." Shen Fei, who genuinely needed a gun, didn¡¯t pretend to be polite. He pulled out all the money he had and said, "The Ural Federation doesn¡¯t import Glock pistols from Austria, so this one must have come through unofficial channels." "At current black market prices, a Glock G17 sells for around $2,000, which converts to about 56,000 rubles." "I only have 28,000 rubles on me¡ªthis is all my savings. I¡¯ll pay you back the rest later." "Please give me a piece of paper and a pen. I¡¯ll write you an IOU." Gold Coin smiled and handed Shen Fei what he needed. "Alright, I¡¯ll be waiting for your repayment, Mr. Shen Fei." After watching Shen Fei leave, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy and tense. The man with the cybernetic eye lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and asked, "So, what do you all think of this Shen Fei guy?" This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. One of the interviewers spoke up, "Honestly, I can¡¯t believe someone who¡¯s never killed before could be as cunning and ruthless as him." "His eyes and demeanor told me he wasn¡¯t joking when he answered those questions." "If faced with a similar situation, he¡¯d definitely do exactly what he said¡ªmaybe even take it further." Another interviewer chimed in, "I don¡¯t feel as strongly about it. You know how it is¡ªrote learning is a specialty of the Chinese. Maybe he just figured out what we¡¯d ask and prepared his answers in advance." Finally, everyone turned to Gold Coin, waiting for his analysis. Gold Coin picked up the stack of rubles from the table and smiled. "I like the kid. I vote yes." "But I don¡¯t buy that he¡¯s getting a gun just for self-defense." "What I sense in him is the most primal human desire to kill." "And according to Chekhov¡¯s writing theory, if a gun appears in the first act, it¡¯s going to go off by the third." Another interviewer snapped irritably, "Gold Coin, this is real life. Stop bringing up your damn writing theories." Gold Coin lit another cigarette, watching the smoke curl upward. "Who knows? The world is just one big novel. Maybe we¡¯re all characters in someone¡¯s story." "If that¡¯s the case, the author must¡¯ve lost their mind while writing this part. Let¡¯s hope the readers lose theirs too and just enjoy the ride," the man with the cybernetic eye muttered, flipping through Shen Fei¡¯s resume and rubbing his nose. "We need to hurry up. There are still seventeen more wannabe mercenaries waiting to be interviewed." "Damn it, I don¡¯t know why Volodin had to go after the oligarchs. Everything¡¯s just getting messier out there." Meanwhile, Shen Fei walked out of the Wagner mercenary base and boarded a bus back to his university dorm. The bus was nearly empty. Shen Fei sat in the very last row, carefully examining the Glock G17 pistol hidden in his backpack. It had been a long time since he crossed over into this world, and this was the first time he had held a real gun. Cold, heavy, and solid¡ªit gave him an inexplicable sense of security. "Judging by today¡¯s interview, they probably won¡¯t take me," he thought to himself. "So where should I go next to find work?" In his previous life, Shen Fei had been an ordinary man, living an unremarkable life. Nothing extraordinary had ever happened to him, right up until the end. He didn¡¯t know why fate had chosen him to cross over, nor why he had been given a "God of Killing" system. But then again, what man doesn¡¯t secretly yearn for a life of excitement and adventure? [Would you rather be a nobody, living a safe but mundane life, dying in bed with a catheter? Or would you choose to leave your mark on history, even if it means not living past thirty?] [A nameless pawn? Or a legend?] Back in his past life, when Shen Fei had heard this line in a game, he had almost instantly chosen the latter. He hadn¡¯t had the chance back then, but now, this life would be his opportunity to make up for all those regrets! BANG! Just as Shen Fei was lost in his thoughts, a deafening gunshot rang out. The bus screeched to a sudden halt, lurching violently as it came to a stop in the middle of the road. "What¡¯s happening?!" "Oh my God!" "Look, someone¡¯s robbing the bank!" Chaotic voices erupted as Shen Fei turned toward the direction of the gunshot. About 50 meters away, a bank was under siege. Seven or eight masked gunmen had shot the bank¡¯s security guard and stormed inside. The bus driver shouted, "Everyone, stay calm! We¡¯re far enough away. If I just reverse, we can get out of here safely!" "Hold on tight and stay seated. Keep your cool!" His words brought a wave of relief to the panicked passengers. However, before the driver could shift into reverse, another loud crash echoed through the bus. Everyone looked up to see the passenger from the back row shatter the window with his elbow and leap out, sprinting straight toward the bank. Faintly, they could hear him yelling something in Chinese. "Damn it, robbing a bank right in front of me?" "You think I¡¯m gonna take this lying down? I just bought this gun!" 3."Master, what exactly is it that you do for a living?" The distance of a few dozen meters wasn¡¯t far,but after the robbers opened fire, the pedestrians on the street panicked and scattered. Shen Fei, running against the flow of the crowd, still took some time to reach the bank entrance. The robbers had already stormed into the bank lobby, leaving only one masked lookout at the door.Shen Fei, gripping the pistol hidden in his backpack, panted as he asked, "Hey, buddy, what''s your job?" The robber glanced down at the AK-47 in his hands, then back at Shen Fei¡¯s soft, unassuming appearance. He was completely baffled.What kind of lunatic is this? Shen Fei had been waiting for this moment of confusion.Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger through the fabric of his backpack. BANG! The gunshot rang out, and the robber staggered, hit by the bullet, before slowly collapsing to the ground.But the system notification Shen Fei had been anticipating for over a decade didn¡¯t come. What¡¯s going on?Is he not dead yet? Shen Fei quickly fired several more shots into the robber''s chest, torso, and head, then bolted into a nearby alley.He was banking on the time gap and the assumption that the robbers inside the bank wouldn¡¯t abandon their heist to chase after him.
Finally,the long-dormant system notification echoed in Shen Fei''s mind. [Congratulations, Host, on completing your first kill mission. You have earned one lottery draw. Would you like to proceed?] Was there even a question?"Draw it, now!" Shen Fei shouted, his voice trembling with excitement. [Ding.] [Lottery successful.] [Congratulations, Host, on acquiring the skill¡ªMaster-Level Tactical Assault Shooting Proficiency!] The moment the system¡¯s voice faded, a flood of unfamiliar memories surged into Shen Fei¡¯s mind.At the same time, a warm current seemed to flow through his body, spreading to every limb and joint, as if the world¡¯s most skilled masseuse was working on him. Stance, grip, aiming posture, recoil management, trigger control, breath control, dynamic response, physical endurance...Muscle memory that would normally take years, even decades, to develop was now his in the blink of an eye. This...was the power of the system! "Amazing!""All those years of waiting for you weren¡¯t wasted." Shen Fei reveled in the changes coursing through his body. The emotions he had suppressed for over a decade finally burst free in this moment. He couldn¡¯t help but think,If killing just one gave me such an incredible reward...Then what if I took out all those robbers inside the bank? A blade in hand stirs the desire to kill!With system rewards dangling right in front of him, why wouldn¡¯t he use his newly acquired skills to push further? Was he just supposed to sit back and admire how cool they were? In this era of superficial peace,legitimate opportunities to kill were rare.Just moments ago, shooting that one robber¡ªeven if it was a sneak attack¡ªhad left Shen Fei so tense he could barely breathe. But now,with the mastery of tactical assault shooting coursing through him, a handful of petty robbers were nothing to fear. Shen Fei expertly ejected the magazine, checked the remaining rounds, and without a second thought, turned and strode back toward the bank. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. My name is Dmitry and I was born into a happy family. Both of my parents are employees of state-owned enterprises. Stable income and respect from others. In the wave of privatization in the 1990s, the factory where my parents worked was taken away by oligarchs, causing both of them to lose their jobs and the whole family to fall into poverty. The previous privileged life has vanished into thin air. Since then, the most I have heard my father say is: Damn thieves, damn it! You all deserve to be shot, you sons of bitches! We bleed and sweat, face to face. Income is decreasing, but the cost of living is getting higher and higher, My girlfriend broke up with me and turned to marry a middle-aged man in his forties. I couldn''t bear such a blow and gradually became decadent, starting to numb myself with vodka and drugs. Later, I joined a gang called the Neva Brotherhood to make money by taking drugs. It took me five years and I finally went from being a basic thief to a soldier''s team. Five years! Do you know how I''ve been through these five years? Not long ago, the organization asked me to lead a team to raid a bank in St. Petersburg.As long as I can grab enough money, I can be promoted from soldier captain to management. Although it is the most basic church messenger, it is enough to make life more dignified. Just as I led my team to the bank entrance and positioned my men to storm the hall and seize the loot, I stood guard at the door, scanning the chaos outside. That¡¯s when I saw him¡ªa young man, delicate and soft-looking, almost out of place in this violent scene. He didn¡¯t seem like he was from the Ural Federation.No, he looked more like a Chinese tourist¡ªmaybe visiting St. Petersburg or studying abroad. I didn¡¯t pay him much attention at first. But as he passed by me, he asked a question that I will never forget for as long as I live.He asked me, ¡°What''s your job?¡± I swear to God, I¡¯ve never heard anything so absurd.Was it not obvious enough? Was my outfit not clear?Or did the AK-47 in my hands look like a damn toy to him? Just as I dismissed him as some frightened foreigner, a gunshot rang out¡ªfrom his bag.A tremendous force tore through my body, and I knew I''d been hit.Before I could even process what had happened, he fired several more shots into me and then bolted away like a shadow. With the last of my strength, I looked down at the bloodstains spreading across my clothes.One hole was mine.Another was mine too. I''m probably going to die here, but before I do, there''s one thing I still can''t figure out.What the hell, man?We had no grudge, no history. You''re not even a cop. So why... why did you kill me?!
The robbers inside the bank lobby were equally stunned.They had just stormed in, taken down the security guards, and subdued the staff. They were about to blow open the vault door with explosives when gunshots rang out from the entrance. Cops?No way.There¡¯s no way they could¡¯ve gotten here that fast. Did the boss accidentally discharge his weapon?No, that can¡¯t be it.They knew the sound of an AK-47 all too well.The gunfire they¡¯d just heard was unmistakably from a handgun. Before they could process what was happening, another round of rapid gunfire erupted at the bank entrance. This is bad.It must be undercover cops¡ªor some self-righteous civilian. They rushed outside, only to find their boss lying in a pool of blood. In the distance, a lean figure was darting into a narrow alley. What the...?What just happened? "What''s going on?""The boss... the boss is dead?""Was it the cops?" "It doesn''t make sense. Even if it was the cops, why would they kill him without even trying to negotiate?""Yeah... that''s just not how they operate.""What do we do now?" "Chase him down! Avenge the boss!""Avenge my ass! We''re here to rob a bank, not play gangster revenge drama. Get back inside and finish loading the money!" The robbers made up their minds. Without even bothering to check on the body on the ground, they turned and rushed back into the lobby to continue their heist.They¡¯d already wasted nearly a minute. They had to move faster.If the cops showed up, things would only get messier. Five minutes later... Right on schedule, a black-painted Vaz minivan screeched to a halt in front of the bank.The robbers, now laden with bags of cash, burst out of the building. They tossed the money into the van and scrambled to get in, ready to make their escape. But at that moment... From a nearby alley, the dark barrel of a handgun was already trained on them. Death had opened its eyes. And in the next second¡ªBANG!
The distinctive, crisp report of a Glock echoed through the silent, empty street. The shot was fired from a distance of fifty meters,yet the bullet seemed to carry a life of its own, striking its target with pinpoint accuracy¡ªright between the eyes. A spark of death blossomed, marking the end of another life.