Fang Rong's face stiffened.

So they came here to persuade him to leave?

Liu Xingyun took out a long, thin cup and placed it on the table. “If your team is 10, then Fang Hua is the 1 in front of him.” He pushed the cup over. “The 1 is overturned, and the 0 is behind him. You can’t help him at all; instead, you’ll become a burden to him.”

"Fang Rong," he said with utmost seriousness, "do you really want that?"

Fang Rong paused, her heart skipped a beat, and she had no idea how to answer.

He crouched down to wipe the chair legs as a cover-up, pretending not to care.

Liu Xingyun sighed. He had achieved his goal and didn't linger. "It's getting late, I should go."

Fang Rong didn't speak or see him off; he was still immersed in what Liu Xingyun had just said.

"If the 1 is flipped upside down, the next one is zero."

"You can't help him at all; you'll only be a burden to him."

"Fang Rong, do you really hope so?"

Fang Rong put down the rag and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't make a choice, but every word Liu Xingyun had said was like a knife, piercing his chest with unerring precision.

It hurts so much.

Perhaps he really wasn't suited for this profession; it was dangerous and he was always dragging others down. Even the kind-hearted Liu Xingyun couldn't stand it anymore and stepped in as a mediator.

well!

He sighed, pushed back his chair, and slowly stood up. Just as Liu Xingyun had said, when the 1 falls, the 0 comes next. The 0 can add icing on the cake to some extent, but it can't provide help in times of need.

Maybe it really is time to go.

He stared blankly at the shooting range not far away. In fact, everyone hopes to be successful, like a real man, skilled in martial arts, good at shooting, and incredibly cool.

But reality is harsh. Just like the fish in the Northern Sea called Kun, which is so big that its size is unknown, in reality, when the boss grills fish, he adds some scallions and garlic, and it would be best if it were cheaper. See? That's a world of difference.

Fang Rong slowly walked over and picked up the shooting rifle on the table. The gun was fake, but its body, feel, and recoil were exactly the same as the real one, so the feeling during training was almost the same as touching a real gun.

So that's what a gun looks like.

Fang Rong pulled the safety bolt and aimed at the firing plate. He was a little nearsighted, so what others saw as a firing plate looked like a red bean to him.

"It's too far. I wish it were closer." Fang Rong rubbed his eyes and was surprised to find that the shooting sign did seem a little closer. He shook his head, thinking that he must be hallucinating.

"It's still too far away, I can't see clearly." He put down his gun, did some eye exercises, and crammed for the last minute.

When I opened my eyes again, I noticed that the shooting sign seemed to be a little closer.

That's impossible!

Fang Rong's eyes widened.

Is this some kind of ghost?