HLM – Chapter 798 Leading the Team

When they reached the training ground, Wang Bo stopped the car and several classmates immediately rushed out.

A vast lawn was dotted with hundreds of luxury cars. BMWs and Mercedes were just so-so here — the real stars were Lamborghinis, Porsches, and Maseratis.

“My God, a Ferrari FF? That shape is definitely an FF!”

“This one’s the real deal — come look, an old Maybach Zeppelin, the kind a billionaire rides in!”

“There are Rolls-Royce Phantoms too, right? But why are they empty inside?”

“No way — Old Wang really collected all these luxury cars?” Zhu Fang couldn’t help swearing.

Wang Bo said seriously, “Of course. Old Wang never lies. Enough luxury cars, right? If you like them you can take them back — after all, one of these is only worth two or three thousand bucks.”

“Only two or three thousand for these cars? Even if they’re just shells, that’s insanely cheap,” Fan Dong said in surprise.

Na Qingyang snorted, “Fan, you don’t understand New Zealand. Here this kind of thing can only be sold for scrap; getting rid of them even costs money. Two or three thousand isn’t low.”

“Actually, two or three thousand here can buy a car that still runs — some used Audis. They’re that cheap, but they drive,” Old Wang added.

Uncle Bing drove over in a pickup loaded with clean training uniforms and weaponry.

Wang Bo said, “Luxury-car battle. You wanna play?” He explained their plan: split into two groups and then go at each other — a human CS game. “You’ve played real-life CS before, right?”

Every man has had that fantasy of sweeping the world with a weapon in hand; seeing those realistic-looking guns, Hou Haibo and the others clustered around at once.

Zhang Rui, who usually didn’t say much, lit up when he saw the weapons. He picked up an M14A1 and said, “This is a good gun — I’ll use this — damn, it isn’t a real gun, right? It’s so heavy.”

Uncle Bing introduced them: “These are one-to-one scale replica weapons. They fire colored rounds and have casings — remember to collect the casings.”

He picked up an AK-74, loaded a round and pulled the trigger. A crisp “pa-pa-pa” rang out and a shell ejected.

“There are two firing modes — semi and full auto. They’re highly realistic; the difference from a real gun is just the recoil and lethality.”

“The rounds can be fired up to a hundred meters, effective range about sixty meters. Don’t aim at exposed body parts within ten meters. The projectiles are rubber — don’t worry, getting hit will hurt but won’t be lethal. But watch out for the shell casings, those are metal.”

“Everyone will have a magnetic band wrapped on their forearm; after firing sweep your arm toward the ground and the casings will automatically stick to your arm. And again, don’t aim at exposed parts within ten meters — and absolutely no firing within two meters!”

“Does it do more damage up close?” Zhu Fang asked, worried.

Uncle Bing glanced at her, pointed the gun at a nearby car and fired — “bang” — the car window shattered!

“Holy crap, that’s a Porsche Cayenne!” Fan Dong said, wincing.

Wang Bo asked, “You still want to play this? You’ve probably played versions of this back home, right? If you’re not interested we can just shoot a few rounds and move on.”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Play this!” “Back home it’s all laser tag — running up some dirt hill to shoot, what’s the point?”

“Of course we want to — shooting between luxury cars, this is urban street warfare!”

Wang Bo said, “If you just want real guns, I have real ones and can take you hunting — but this is a game. You sure?”

“Sure!”

“Shut up and let’s play.”

“Don’t waste time.”

Wang Bo shrugged and picked up a familiar SL8. “Put on your gear and choose your guns. Ladies, I recommend the MP5 — it’s light. Range is a bit shorter but plenty for this.”

Zhang Rui marveled, “There are so many gun types — HK416, AK-47, AK-74, M16, M14A1, MP-9 SMG, even an AWP? Sniper rifles? I’ll use a sniper then.”

Wang Bo explained, “New Zealand doesn’t ban guns like that, and these replicas aren’t regulated either.”

“Aren’t you worried someone could convert replicas into real guns?” someone asked.

Wang Bo laughed, “No way. They’re not the same. These weigh so much because there are lead blocks in the stock, and the firing system is a toy — they can’t fire real rounds.”

A crate opened to reveal sniper rifles: AWP, M200, MK11-0, and legendary cannons — M82A1 and Barrett M90.

Several men went straight for the sniper rifles; Hou Haibo even picked a Barrett M90.

Tall, broad-shouldered Lu Yang teased him, “Monkey, you sure about that? That thing weighs like twenty kilos — you gonna run around with that?”

Hou Haibo hoisted the M90 and said, “With this in my hands, who needs to run?!”

Na Qingyang smiled wryly, “I once thought that too — until the day I became a rainbow.”

Wang Bo couldn’t help laughing. The first time Na Qingyang played he had taken an M82A1 and they had all gotten ambushed; Na Qingyang got nailed and ended up a “rainbow” of paint.

So this time he chose the HK short assault rifle, only about six kilos, easy to run with.

They split into teams — twenty-four people total including Uncle Bing, twelve per side.

To be fair, Wang Bo and Uncle Bing took turns picking; Wang Bo picked two first — Na Qingyang and the big guy Lu Yang.

Uncle Bing picked casually — after all they were all garbage in the same way.

After dividing the teams, Wang Bo said, “Forgot to introduce — this is Mr. Benjamin Jensen, an instructor from the British SAS. He’s taken part in so many anti-terror operations, his confirmed kills are at least triple digits.”

“A hundred kills? No way.” Lu Yang gulped, “Damn, Old Wang, I regret this. Put me back.”

“What kind of Jensen is this? A war god!”

“SAS instructor? Holy crap, a real pro.”

Wang Bo said, “What I mean is — when our people see him later, they’d better run fast.”

About one hundred forty-to-one hundred fifty cars were spread out with gaps of five to six hundred meters, laid out east-west. Wang Bo led his group attacking from the east; Uncle Bing’s team guarded the west.

Wang Bo divided his people and said, “Brother A, take Zhu Fang and Jia Jia to scout ahead on the right path. Lu Yang, take Monkey and your two brothers on the left — be careful. The rest follow me in the middle.”

“Why are the girls scouting?” Lu Yang asked.

Wang Bo said bluntly, “Girls are best for scouting — the scout’s role is basically suicide, and they don’t have much fighting power anyway.”

The girls immediately protested, “Old Wang, you bastard!”
“I’m not dying early!”
“You go scout yourself, lead from the front!”

Na Qingyang laughed maliciously, “Haha, morale’s shaken — this team’s gonna be hard to lead.”