The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81

Edward’s teasing about Nova being Jordan’s girlfriend sent a sudden chill down Jordan’s spine. His mind raced back to the dangerous fugitives Nova had taken down before, and his heart pounded as if he feared becoming one of their targets. The thought unsettled him deeply.

Quickly, Jordan waved his hands, eager to clarify. “No, no, don’t say that. She’s Nova Blake. Uh… just a friend I met at school.”

Edward chuckled loudly, shaking his head. “Come on, Jordan. I’ve never seen you act so shy back when we were in the unit. You’re acting like this girl’s going to knock you out. Am I right, girl?”

Turning to Nova with a casual grin, Edward treated her like any ordinary schoolgirl, his tone light and teasing.

Nova didn’t respond to Edward’s banter. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the special forces soldiers drilling with sniper rifles in the trenches nearby. “Those your soldiers?” she asked quietly.

Edward nodded, pride swelling in his chest as he prepared to impress her. He was eager to see a spark of admiration in her eyes, hoping to satisfy his soldier’s ego.

“So, what do you think?” Edward said smugly. “First time seeing something like this, huh? Pretty impressive, right? My soldiers are top-notch. They can land a headshot from at least 2,500 feet away.”

Jordan cringed inwardly at Edward’s boastfulness in front of Nova. He wished he could undo it. Any chance he had to reveal Nova’s real skills vanished instantly.

Nova raised an eyebrow slightly. “Too close.”

Edward blinked, expecting praise but instead met with a critique. “Huh? Too close? What do you mean?”

Then, with the precision of a seasoned professional, Nova explained, leaving even this veteran soldier stunned. “The effective range is too short. The AMR-2 sniper rifle, caliber 12.7 mm, has an effective range of 5,000 feet and a maximum range of 6,500 feet. Yet your men only shoot at 2,500 feet.”

She continued, her tone sharp and knowledgeable, “With a caliber like that, even minimal training should allow them to maintain at least 4,000 feet. Honestly, your training methods have serious flaws.”

Nova’s blunt assessment caught Edward off guard, and he found himself speechless.

“Wait, you know about guns?” Edward blurted, shocked.

In his experience, girls were usually interested in makeup or handbags, not firearms. He struggled to process it, thinking, *This girl not only identified the rifle model from a distance but also knows its exact specs.*

Edward glanced at Jordan with a bewildered expression that seemed to say, “Where did you find this prodigy?”

Felix and the other four onlookers weren’t as surprised. After all, Felix and Evie had already witnessed Nova taking down fugitives from the shadows. But even they, former assassins themselves, didn’t possess such detailed knowledge about firearms.

All five stood silently, stunned. Their only thought was, *Is Nova some kind of hardcore gun enthusiast or something?*

Edward smirked, trying to regain some ground. “Girl, from the way you talk, you think you’re better than me, huh?”

“If you’re so good, why don’t you prove it? Come on, show us what you’ve got.”

The special forces soldiers practicing in the trenches immediately bristled at the challenge. Naturally, they couldn’t stand the idea of a young woman outshining them.

Taking into account wind direction, speed, temperature, air pressure, and other variables, hitting a target at maximum range was nearly impossible.

The AMR-2’s effective range was officially 5,000 feet, yet Nova had just struck a target at the rifle’s maximum range. That was far beyond what an ordinary marksman could achieve.

One special forces soldier muttered in awe, “Holy shit! We totally misjudged this girl. Is she some kind of sharpshooter?”

Edward inhaled sharply, his eyes wide with stunned disbelief.

Suddenly, a stern voice cut through the silence. “What’s with all the slacking off? Aren’t you supposed to be training?”

Everyone looked up to see a middle-aged man in a crisp military uniform approaching with a determined expression. His left thumb was bent awkwardly, a sign of an old injury.

At the sight of him, all the soldiers, including Jordan, snapped to attention and saluted in unison. “Commander!”

The man was Harrison Marshall, commander of Sector X18.

He was also an old acquaintance of Nova’s from before her imprisonment. They had worked together during the Apo Conflict in Xylem.

Harrison had come to inspect the training and had just finished reprimanding the troops when he heard a familiar female voice—one that carried a sharpness and arrogance that left him with many “memorable” moments.

Then, with a cocky tone that even overshadowed his own, the voice rang out: “Hey, old guy, that broken thumb of yours has healed pretty well over the years. Tsk, I’d love to snap a few more.”