Free Web NovelChapter 197: Chapter 197: The Bullet Ballet
Alexander opened his eyes with a violent gasp, the harsh, white glare of the simulation pod breaking over his vision. He rubbed his aching temples, his throat burning as the residual phantom heat of the conditioning drug finally began to fade from his nervous system.
"Damn it... I hate not remembering" muttered Alexander, swinging his legs over the edge of the pod. "The only things I can actually recall are Aria screaming for mercy and Victoria crying like a total bitch... I need to ask Stephen for those security recordings later."
The glowing, translucent user interface of the TMC training menu materialized in front of his face, its modern blue text hovering in the air. Alexander stared at the glowing prompt, his dark eyes narrowing as he weighed his options.
I need more high-intensity weapons conditioning, but my hand-to-hand combat timing still needs work... thought Alexander, his fingers hovering over the glass-like icons. It’s a tough decision. But considering the amount of high-caliber lead flying around lately, weapons are the priority. Let’s go with firearms.
He tapped the screen. The white room dissolved, reassembling itself into a massive, sprawling shooting range. Targets of every shape and size flickered to life at multiple distances, stretching all the way to the artificial horizon. But a second later, the simulation glitched as hundreds of holographic enemy soldiers materialized in every direction, their weapons already raised.
Welcome to the TMC Live-Fire Range. Good luck.
The moment the synthetic system voice finished the word luck, a high-velocity round slammed with brutal force into Alexander’s right flank.
"Holy shit..!!" growled Alexander, stumbling back as the simulated pain receptors fired a white-hot wave of agony into his brain. "I didn’t even get to start!"
What followed was an slaughter.
If Alexander shifted his weight or moved even a centimeter out of alignment, a relentless hail of lead impacted his body from an unseen angle. Bullets chewed through his chest, abdomen, and thighs. He felt the terrifying, agonizing sensation of being nothing more than a biological target dummy, forcing his mind to adapt at a lethal pace.
Running, ducking, firing, and reloading—every action had to be executed at a terrifying, hyper-accelerated speed. Survival meant exploiting every fmicro-second of cover. Any objects scattered across the shifting terrain had to be used to deflect incoming rounds; he used ceramic plates, metal spoons, wooden planks, and shattered bricks to alter the trajectory of the bullets by a fraction of an inch.
Every ten minutes, the entire virtual environment morphed with a sharp electronic hum. The landscape shifted from a dense, suffocating forest to a modern suburban house, a tight tribal hut, a collapsing mountain cabin, and a dark, claustrophobic city alleyway. The sniper rounds and automatic fire came from impossible angles, penetrating every weak spot in his defense. freёweɓnovel.com
The pain was terrifying, a constant, crushing weight on his sanity. But as the hours bled together, something inside Alexander’s muscle memory began to shift.
The moment the sharp crack of a supersonic bullet echoed through the air, his limbs moved by pure, unadulterated instinct before his conscious mind could even process the threat. There was no denying that the TMC training methodology was demonic—but the physical results were nothing short of divine.
After an unknown amount of time, the familiar, violent suction force materialized around his conscious mind, ripping him out of the digital war zone.
Alexander opened his eyes inside the pod. He didn’t crawl out onto the floorboards like last time; instead, he sat up, rubbing his temples as a sharp, tight headache throbbed behind his eyes.
"Welcome back" said Stephen, leaning against the console with his usual calm grin. "Are you finally adapting to the simulation environment?"
"A little" said Alexander, swinging his legs out. "The pain hurts less this time. I thought the neural damage transferred to the physical body."
"That was just a little joke to make sure you took the threat seriously" said Stephen, checking the vitals on his screen. "But don’t get too confident. If you lose focus the trauma can still become permanent."
"Where are the girls?" asked Alexander.
"They are resting in the recovery lounge" said Stephen, letting out a low chuckle. "You left them exhausted."
"I don’t remember a damn thing about it" said Alexander, his jaw tightening in frustration. "Hand over the security videos. I want to see how I fucked them."
"I’m afraid there are no recordings, kid" said Stephen. "We don’t keep any visual evidence of what happens inside these walls for maximum security."
"Damn it" muttered Alexander, running a hand through his hair. "I really wanted to see Victoria’s face. It was the first time I got to break her."
"You handled her like a champion" said Stephen, gesturing for him to follow. "However, I need you to take a few days away from the gym floor. Come with me, I want to show you something."
Stephen led him down a secure reinforced hallway into a central observation room. Glowing banks of monitors lined the walls, displaying live feeds from the active simulation pods. Several high-ranking agents were undergoing conditioning. On one screen, an agent was on his knees practicing stamina by eating out a row of women; on another, several heavy-chested female operatives were bouncing on the erect shafts of their male partners, who were fighting with everything they had to prevent an immediate release.
But Alexander’s attention locked onto a tactical combat screen.
Inside a high-tier live-fire range, Marcus was tearing through an army of simulated combatants. Unlike Alexander’s ragged survival run, Marcus was an beast in motion. He sprinted, leaped, and slid across the concrete, every round exiting his barrel registering as a 100% headshot. He moved like a untouchable force of nature, without a scratch on his suit.
"Impressed?" asked Stephen, watching the screen reflect in Alexander’s dark eyes. "Marcus has been motivated lately. I suppose he feels you closing the gap, and he refuses to be left behind. It’s been months since I’ve seen the Reaper this driven."
