Chapter 442

Luna White's hands trembled slightly as she steadied the rifle. The target paper remained pristine, not a single bullet hole in sight. With a frustrated sigh, she lowered the weapon, Lily Collins' mocking words echoing in her ears: "Dr. White can thread a needle blindfolded, but her marksmanship... must've been taught by an evil stepmother."

The jab had spread like wildfire through the medical corps.

"Dr. White, maybe... take a break?" A passing soldier hesitated, pity written across his face.

Luna shook her head stubbornly. Ever since the cave incident, she'd vowed to master firearms. But reality proved cruel—five straight days without even grazing the target's edge.

"I refuse to believe this!" She gritted her teeth and raised the rifle again.

As her finger squeezed the trigger, she instinctively channeled her healing ability. A faint blue glow traveled from her fingertips into the weapon, the barrel growing warm.

Click—

The trigger pulled, but the bullet jammed in the chamber.

"Huh?" Luna blinked. She tried again, only to hear another sharp click of malfunction.

"Dr. White, let me check your rifle." The armory technician hurried over, brow furrowed. "Consecutive jams aren't normal."

Luna handed it over guiltily. What had she just done? "Heal" a gun? The thought was absurd!

The technician expertly disassembled the weapon, then froze. "Strange... the barrel's overheated, but the mechanism's intact." He looked up, confused. "Did you—"

"Nothing! I did nothing!" Luna cut in, ears burning.

Just then, the barrel emitted a faint blue pulse. The technician nearly dropped the rifle. "What the—"

Luna's heart pounded. Exposed! As she scrambled for an explanation, the rifle suddenly vibrated violently.

"Look out!" She lunged forward instinctively.

A brilliant blue streak shot from the barrel. The bullet traced an impossible arc before striking dead center of the 50-meter target.

"Bullseye!" The spotter's disbelieving shout rang out.

The entire firing range fell silent. Every eye locked onto Luna—the "hopeless shooter" who'd missed for five days straight had just nailed a perfect shot?

Luna stood dumbfounded. Staring at the still-warm rifle in her hands, a wild realization dawned: Could my healing ability... modify firearms?

"Dr. White, how did you—" the technician stammered.

Luna forced a calm smile. "Maybe the gun... finally understood me?"

Her fingers tightened around the rifle, heart racing like a runaway train. This accidental discovery might just rewrite her marksmanship destiny...