Every time Yang Yi picked up the gun, he would think of one person.
Who else could it be but Gong Yang.
Yang Yi put the gun down again, sighed, took off his earmuffs, and quietly watched the target. Then, suddenly, he grabbed the gun from the table and went on a wild shooting spree at the target.
The sound of Yang Yi's gunfire startled the people around him. Who were they? One was the person practicing shooting next to him, the other, a security officer on patrol, which actually just meant sitting on a chair at the back.
This was the CIA, of course, there wouldn't be anyone who couldn't shoot. So, practicing here meant just that—practice. No teaching necessary, just practice. After all, a good marksman is made by the bullets fired.
But Yang Yi's gunfire was somewhat unusual. What was different? Too fast, viciously fast. To shoot a 25-meter target with a 9mm pistol that quickly, he had to be out of the ordinary.