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Chapter 31: Non-Human and Target Practice
After warning Leon to be cautious of his male colleague’ "affectionate advances," the black goat continued:
"If Harry were only using the tape to stick physical objects—say, a missing section of railway track or a dried-up stream—he could probably stretch it for several kilometers with his stamina.
"But when it comes to conceptual binding, like attaching trust or loyalty, he might manage fifty or sixty uses before completely draining his willpower. The stronger the target’s will, the more exhausting it becomes for him.
"Take last year, for instance. He tried to use the tape to secure the red-haired woman’s trust so he could snatch a better mission. It backfired spectacularly—he ended up mentally collapsing, unable to control his body, and spent over three months bedridden recovering."
After finishing its explanation of the tape's abilities, the black goat summarized:
"While anomalies have limits, their power isn’t entirely fixed. Beyond the anomaly’s inherent strength, your physical and mental endurance determine how much you can push its effects.
"For example, take me. I may seem weak now, but if you can handle the strain and unleash my full potential, I could incite thousands into conflict, sparking a small-scale war! Understand?"
"I think I get it..." Nodding thoughtfully, Leon furrowed his brow and pressed further:
"But you still haven’t answered my question. I’m not asking about the abilities of anomalies—I want to know what I need to do to achieve the same physical prowess as others."
"Didn’t I say at the start? You can’t rush this~" Taking another deep drag from its cigarettes, the black goat lazily replied:
"Go on more missions, collect more anomalies, and use them frequently. Over time, you’ll naturally transform from human to something closer to ‘non-human.’ The crazier and more extreme the anomaly, the faster this transformation happens.
"For example, my previous transformation rate was similar to that wretched apartment. Even if you used me for years, you’d only end up slightly healthier than average.
"But after all the goodies you’ve given me, my transformation speed has skyrocketed. Now it’s about three or four times higher. And if you sacrifice a few scumbags, offering their sinful souls to me, this rate will climb even faster!
"In less than a year, your physical capabilities could match Harry’s. How’s that sound? Interested in giving it a shot?"
"..."
This damn thing... Always trying to lure me into trouble...
Hearing the black goat’s relentless persuasion, Leon couldn’t help but frown in exasperation. But moments later, his eyes widened in realization.
Wait a minute! Didn’t it just say its previous transformation rate was similar to the Happiness Residence and now it’s three or four times higher?
So this “influence” and “transformation” is essentially the anomaly’s “contamination value”?!
Upon discovering the true meaning of contamination value, Leon barely had time to feel triumphant before something else struck him. He couldn’t help turning to look at the black goat, which was puffing away on its cigarettes.
If I recall correctly, the chief’s [Love Without Memory] has a contamination value of 7! But this demon’s contamination value originally only had 0.1—just one-seventieth of hers?
So much for being an almighty Greater Demon! I actually believed it was powerful, but turns out it’s this weak?
...
Why is he looking at me like that?
Receiving Leon’s gaze—two parts exasperation, three parts shock, and five parts disdain—the back goat shuddered involuntarily, suddenly feeling uneasy.
He hasn’t figured out that I’m holding him back, has he?
Hmm... No, he shouldn’t.
The specific transformation rates of anomalies are known only to those who’ve used them. That red-haired woman may have used me once, but she’s far too strong to notice whether my rate is fast or slow, let alone tell him about it.
No! He definitely doesn’t know! He can’t know!
"Ahem!"
Though confident Leon wouldn’t uncover the truth, the black goat still felt unnerved by his stare. Clearing its throat, it hastily changed the subject:
"Listen... While collecting more anomalies can accelerate your growth, don’t go overboard. Not all anomalies are as cooperative as me. Many demand outrageous prices!
"Take Emma, for example. Her immortality seems impressive, right? But do you know what she sacrificed for it?"
Emma, huh...
At the mention of Emma, Leon’s expression shifted slightly. He’d long been curious about her immortality, but she seemed aware of his ability to gather information through touch and had avoided physical contact with him.
She’d been kind to him, saving his sister and even gifting him her service weapon. As curious as he was, prying into her privacy didn’t sit well with him. Still, a part of him wanted to know...
Heh, such an easy-to-manipulate virgin! Remember that time in the corridor, his eyes were practically glued to her! I knew he’d be interested!
Seeing the curiosity gleaming in Leon’s eyes, the black goat chuckled darkly, swallowing the smoldering cigarette butts dangling from its lips. Chewing on the still-smoking ends, it grinned mischievously:
"Here’s the deal: go kill some despicable bastard, vent your pent-up anger, and offer their sinful soul to me. In return, I’ll tell you what Emma sacrificed. How’s that sound?"
"..."
(╬￣皿￣)
"Huh? If you disagree, fine, but why are you snatching my cigarettes?
"What? You dare lay hands on me? Don’t think I’m harmless! Damn it... If you’ve got guts, fight fair! Let’s settle this with teeth instead of feet, alright? Shit!"
...
"Bang!"
Staring at the target punctured cleanly from 500 meters away, Leon’s face showed no joy at hitting the mark. Instead, his expression grew increasingly solemn.
After disciplining the mouthy black goat and tossing it back into the Cleansing Bureau office, Leon hadn’t gone straight home. Instead, he grabbed his sniper rifle and headed to the nearby Police Department, borrowing a secluded shooting range with his bureau credentials to grind his Marksman badge.
Rather than simply firing rounds, Leon aimed to improve his accuracy during missions. He set the target at the maximum effective range—500 meters—and practiced diligently, shot by shot. However...
His hit rate was abysmal.
Facing a stationary target at 500 meters, even with [Materialist Soul]’s cumulative accuracy boost, Leon averaged one hit per four or five shots. Out of ten rounds, seven or eight missed entirely.
It seemed luck—and Emma’s prior adjustment of the rifle’s sights—had played a significant role in his hospital shot. His true shooting skill remained that of a novice.
Examining the holes in the paper target through his scope, Leon noticed they mostly landed on non-critical areas. Shaking his head, he blew his whistle sharply and waved a small red flag toward the range manager.
Shooting at 500 meters exceeded his current capabilities; such a hit rate would be useless in actual missions. Rather than pursuing maximum range lethality, it was better to reduce the distance to around 300 meters and focus on practical combat training.
Heh, sure enough, he’s switching targets.
The manager, hearing the whistle and seeing Leon’s red flag signaling 300 meters, raised an eyebrow. Turning to his colleague, both exchanged knowing smirks.
Earlier, this young man had entered carrying his rifle, insisting on shooting at 500 meters despite their advice to start at half the maximum range—250 meters. After all, bullet drop became harder to predict beyond that point, sometimes even tumbling mid-air.
So, the difficulty of hitting a target at a full range of 500 meters was much greater than that of a half-range target at 200 or 300 meters. For a young guy like him who hadn’t handled a gun much, even the half-range target should be more than manageable.
But alas, despite his youth, he’d already reached the peak of the general-staff level civil service and was even close to brushing up against the assistant-level positions. His confidence must be sky-high, so high that he probably thought he didn't need to listen to the advice of two shooting range managers.
When they kindly suggested he stick to the easier target, he insisted on trying the 500-meter one, wanting to see how far he could shoot… And? Now that he discovered he couldn’t hit the target no matter what, did he finally want to switch back?
Guns are fair—they don’t care how important your dad is!
The manager responsible for changing the targets grinned as he pulled the lever on the control panel. Amidst the sound of gears meshing, the 300-meter half-range target slowly rose into place while the 500-meter full-range target was lowered and retracted.
However, just as the other manager was about to get up from his seat to replace the target paper and switch out the target, he reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Where are you going?"
"Huh? What do you mean? Let go! I need to change the target!"
"Why bother?"
The lever-pulling manager snickered, lifting his colleague’s noise-canceling earmuffs slightly to shout over the gunfire:
"Sit down and relax! I recognize that gun he brought—it’s only effective up to 470 meters. Shooting at 500 meters is over-range; hitting the target would be a miracle!
"Our department has a few who can hit over-range targets, but they’ve been handling guns for nearly two decades. Look at that kid—he’s barely sixteen or seventeen. How could he possibly manage an over-range shot? Did he start practicing in the womb?"
"Hahaha, good point. Guess I’ll rest a bit longer~"
...
Unaware that his poor accuracy stemmed not from lack of skill but from the rifle’s limited range, Leon remained prone, firing round after round to grind his Marksman badge.
After adjusting the target to 300 meters, his hit rate improved dramatically. Not only did he stop missing entirely, but each shot landed on critical areas of the target. Only one in twenty shots deviated slightly.
By sunset, firing roughly two rounds per minute, Leon completed 200 live rounds, upgrading his badge from Black Iron to Bronze.
[Marksman: Though you haven’t handled firearms for long, your exceptional talent and hard training have made you a qualified marksman.]
[Equipping Effect: Through extensive practice, you’ve familiarized yourself with bullet drop patterns. With deliberate aim correction, your shooting accuracy will significantly improve.]
[Upgrade Path: Complete 5,000 live rounds or 30,000 simulated shots to upgrade to the Silver Badge “Shooting Enthusiast.” Current Progress: 0/5,000, 0/30,000.]
[Hidden Attribute (No Need to Equip): As a firearms enthusiast, your stability improves slightly when using a familiar weapon.]
To continue improving, I need to fire 5,000 more rounds?
After reviewing the system prompt, Leon estimated his shooting speed. Firing all 5,000 rounds carefully would take over forty hours. If the progression from Silver to Gold required a proportional increase—say, like from 200 to 5,000—the total time investment could reach hundreds of hours.
While diligent practice would refine his fundamentals, it likely wouldn’t compare to the boost from a high-tier badge. So... should he try finding a shortcut?
Acting on impulse, Leon abandoned meticulous aiming. After loading the gas tank, he fired blindly at a rough estimate of the target’s position.
Switching from careful aiming to blind firing drastically increased his speed. Excluding reload and refueling time, he managed over a dozen shots per minute. Thanks to [Materialist Soul]’s accuracy boost, even these wild shots hit five or six times.
However, upon checking the [Marksman] badge’s interface, Leon sighed in frustration. Despite firing over a dozen rounds, the “proficiency” progress remained at 0/5,000—not a single point gained.
So it really does require careful, deliberate practice...
Shaking off thoughts of shortcuts, Leon checked the sky, disassembled his rifle into components, packed them into a large canvas bag, and left the range, struggling under the weight.
Not long after he departed, a female officer in a black uniform with tanned skin entered briskly. After glancing at the vacant positions, she chose the recently vacated lane. Her weary demeanor suggested she had something on her mind. Greeting the managers hoarsely, she selected her weapon and took her position, waving a small yellow flag signaling 500 meters.
As the distant target rose, she took a deep breath, biting her lip tightly as she aligned her eye with the scope. Her slender fingers steadied on the trigger...
Hmm?
Spotting multiple large holes in the target through her scope, the policewoman frowned. Raising a small black flag, she summoned the range manager.
"This target hasn’t been replaced."
Pointing to the wooden target in the distance, she stated flatly:
"You can see the previous shooter’s bullet holes."
"Ah? Sorry about that!" Apologizing profusely, the manager explained with a sheepish grin:
"A new face came in earlier. His movements seemed amateurish, and after a few shots, he switched to a shorter range. We assumed he missed the long-range target and didn’t rush to replace it. My apologies."
"It’s fine."
Waving dismissively, the policewoman squinted at the target paper through her scope, then asked coldly, brows furrowed: "The holes are quite large. These were caused by bullets tumbling uncontrollably after exceeding the weapon’s maximum range by over thirty meters, weren’t they?
"Isn’t our department emphasizing restraint and minimizing unnecessary lethality? Why is someone still practicing something guaranteed to kill on impact?"
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