WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

Chapter 105 Mr. Sean, would you like to become the President's National Security Advisor?

Chapter 105 Mr. Sean, would you like to become the President's National Security Advisor?

After lunch, the entire San Diego National Guard base was in an uproar.

More than a thousand people came from other branches of the military.

Of course, most of them were just there to join in the fun.

Various military uniforms can be seen everywhere in the base.

The outdoor firing range was packed with people.

"Dude, beat Sean!"

"Brothers, the Marines are counting on you."

"Take down Obsidian."

"Defeat Shane, defeat Shane, the Army will never be ashamed."

A large group of soldiers waved their fists and shouted incessantly, bringing the atmosphere to a fever pitch.

Everyone stared at Sean, who was sitting to the side, with hatred clenched in their teeth.

"He actually looks down on us."

"Yes, defeat him."

"Friend, you've attracted animosity I can't even imagine," Eisenhower quipped, still sitting to the side.

Sean just smiled faintly, "The strong never care about the insults of the weak; they are merely the weak's venting of their resentment and a display of their incompetence."

What the hell!

Have we become the weaker party?

Several military base commanders sat to one side, seething with hatred.

They kept giving their soldiers meaningful glances.

Give him a good beating.

That's outrageous.

"Matthias, give them a demonstration, start the warm-up with the 400 meters."

Sean calmly raised his hand.

Matthias nodded.

Pick up your beloved Mauser 98K!

"I won't fight at close range. I'll start warming up from 400 meters."

Damn it, a group of American shooters glared angrily at the arrogant bastard beside them.

"Okay, four hundred meters." Many people didn't have much confidence when they said this, but they still followed along without showing any weakness.

When Matthias was seen lying on the sandbag, the surroundings quieted down.

Everyone's light followed this unknown instructor.

Matthias looked at the sights and took a deep breath.

Relax your finger, then pull the trigger, hold your breath to reduce muzzle sway, bang!

The bullet flew out instantly.

"Hit the bullseye."

The lieutenant on the side shouted as he looked at the target.

Matthias did not leave after firing the shot.

"Five hundred meters!"

The others were stunned.

"500-meter stationary target."

The lieutenant shouted, and the soldiers immediately pushed out the target.

boom!

"Hit the bullseye."

"Six hundred meters!"

"600-meter fixed target."

boom!

"Hit the bullseye."

"Eight hundred meters!"

Holy crap, this bastard raised the standard to 800 meters in one go.

The chosen archers around them immediately felt their palms sweating and their hearts sinking.

The chants of "Defeat Sean!" that had been going on immediately subsided.

boom!

"Bullet hit." The lieutenant swallowed hard; this distance had surpassed the shooting record of all shooters in San Diego.

"One thousand meters!" Matthias's gaze sharpened. Eight hundred meters was just an appetizer; this was only the beginning.

Look at this bastard, he's leaving no way for others to survive.

In one go, the firing range was increased to the maximum range of a bolt-action rifle.

boom!

After a moment of aiming, Matthias took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

"Hit the bullseye."

Wow, the people around them went from anger to shock.

"He really hit it."

"That's a distance of one thousand meters. No one in our base can do that."

"Our base is the same."

"1200 meters."

Matthias spoke again in a low voice.

"He wants to take on another challenge?"

"This is insane! They're already number one!"

The other shooters didn't expect this result; they were at their peak right from the start.

They didn't give them a chance to show their skills at all, and crushed them in one fell swoop.

"1200 meters? Can he really do that?" Eisenhower's gaze toward Sean had completely changed.

This isn't just empty anger; it's based on real substance.

"Maybe."

Sean's answer was even more infuriating: what did he mean by "maybe"?

Many people looked at him curiously.

Sean wasn't sure either; bolt-action rifles have limited firing range, and Matthias was pushing his limits at that moment.

In an era without observation equipment, achieving a 1200-meter shot based solely on experience was an astonishing feat in World War II.

Even the lieutenant observing the results changed his gaze, becoming excited; soldiers admire strength and honor.

A new record is about to be set.

He shouted excitedly, "1200-meter stationary target!"

After saying that, the lieutenant ran to Matthias's side and whispered, "Buddy, are you sure? You're creating a miracle."

Matthias didn't speak, but nodded slightly.

"My God, are you sure?"

The surroundings instantly became as quiet as a graveyard. All the participating shooters had long lost the courage to compete. Ellerberg stood behind Sean, equally excited.

"I can do 1,000 meters, but not 1,200 meters."

His words made Ridgway, who was in the front row, feel as if he had eaten shit.

Sean has men who can shoot from 1,000 meters.

The colonels from the other bases looked ashen-faced; what was the point of even comparing them?

boom!

Matthias breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, holding his Mauser 98K.

"1200 meters, bullseye!" The lieutenant practically shouted the result.

"Oh my god, it hit!"

"Impossible, such a long distance."

"It's over, it's impossible to defeat Sean Wayne, it's impossible."

"He seems to have never lost."

"Can't he just lose once? It's outrageous."

Many soldiers wore expressions of despair; it turned out that it wasn't a competition at all, but a blatant performance.

"Matthias, a quick shot from mid-range."

Sean spoke again from the side.

Matthias picked up the M35 marksman rifle.

Replace with a new magazine.

"Please give me five 200-meter targets."

Although the lieutenant didn't know what the other party was going to do, he still nodded subconsciously.

"Five 200-meter targets!"

Matthias took a deep breath and assumed a standing shooting position.

This position is ten times more difficult than prone shooting.

A stable posture can stump 99% of shooters.

The value of the M35 is now evident: it has a shorter barrel than bolt-action rifles, is lighter, and is semi-automatic.

"One minute countdown."

Heidel, standing to the side, raised his hand and looked at his watch.

"What are they doing?"

"It's like they're keeping a timer."

"Is it shooting at multiple targets, or is it a 200-meter timed shooting exercise?"

Everyone was stunned.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1, go!"

Matthias instantly raised his rifle, and pulled the trigger the instant he saw the sights.

boom!

Then, lowering his body, he quickly moved to the right, and to everyone's surprise, raised his gun again, aimed slightly, and pulled the trigger!

boom!

Boom!

"Thirty-seven seconds!"

Heidel lowered his hand. "Two seconds better than before."

"Really? It should be even faster. If it weren't for the movement taking up my time, I should be able to fire at least ten shots in thirty seconds."

What are you talking about?

The lieutenant standing nearby didn't know how to evaluate these two guys. Although he had seen their training, which could only be described as terrifying, he wondered, "Are you guys even speaking human language?"

"Hit the bullseye."

Did they all hit?

The lieutenant looked at Matthias in surprise; this must be a sharpshooter.

He didn't know that Matthias Hetzenauer was a sharpshooter.

While everyone else was learning long-range shooting, Matthias had already made great strides in mid-range rapid fire.

Rapid fire was not yet a priority in the context of World War II.

The effectiveness and timeliness of precision shooting were originally subjects that were trained in later armies.

"What did I just hear? Thirty-seven seconds for five 200-meter targets?"

"He said that if it weren't for the time delay caused by moving, he could have fired more than ten shots."

"My God, that means he can take down ten of us in a minute?"

"You can't say that, we'll find cover."

"What about skirmishes?"

All the soldiers fell silent. Yes, what about an encounter battle?

What if the other side launches a sneak attack?

They couldn't imagine it.

Eisenhower thought further: what if a silencer were installed?

The tactical assault team launched an attack on a camp. While Heidett moved, this sniper may have already wiped out the surrounding patrols in one fell swoop. Under his sniper cover, Heidett's crazed gang would easily break through the defenses.

What if it's when you're sleeping at night?

That means a camp is facing annihilation.

Is this what special operations are?

"I think we don't need to compete anymore." Eisenhower stood up, intending to end this embarrassing farce, as continuing the competition would only damage the morale of the American soldiers.

"Yes, I also think there's no need for a competition. We just wanted to see how strong Instructor Obsidian is."

Several base commanders agreed, saying, "How can we even compare?"

We haven't even learned to walk properly, how can we expect to learn to run?

Let's have a competition.

Sean stood up.

His words made all the colonels and brigadier generals turn pale.

Sean walked to the edge of the shooting range and picked up the microphone.

"Instructor Matthias was simply demonstrating his sniping skills, and this competition will be conducted among all American soldiers."

Sean ruled out Matthias.

Everyone looked at him curiously. They originally thought they had lost, that the American army had lost, and that it was shameful. They felt bad, but they didn't expect Sean to change his attitude.

"All soldiers who achieve a score of 300 meters or higher can apply for my elite sniper training program and join the legendary future unit of the U.S. Army, the Sniper Reconnaissance Battalion."

Become an excellent shooter.

Similarly, I would reward each soldier with a decent rifle, including a sight.

You don't have to pay for the accessories you like.

Including military boots.

"Wow, Sean, Sean!"

The tradition of the US military is that, apart from the issued supplies, everything else must be paid for by the soldiers themselves, but now Sean is willing to pay for it.

This is a noble sentiment; he preserved the face of the American military and even won the respect of the soldiers.

"Sean, you're the best."

"Sean, I'm liking you more and more."

Sean looked at the countless soldiers around him who were raising their fists and shouting, and he raised his hand and clenched it into a fist.

The enormous sound waves around us instantly fell silent.

At that moment, he was the most prestigious person in the camp.

"You are soldiers, the last line of defense for American citizens. You are not fighting for the White House, you are not fighting for the War Department, you are fighting to protect the American Declaration and the Constitution."

I promise that outstanding veterans who retire in the future will receive the best treatment at Obsidian. You are heroes, hoo hoo!

"Whoosh!"

The thousands of soldiers around him were like they'd been injected with adrenaline, their faces flushed red as they shouted.

Whoa!

The sound waves crashed against the eardrums of the officers and soldiers like a tidal wave.

Just like a specific slogan, it gets these soldiers' blood pumping!

"Hoo-a!" became a unique slogan among American soldiers, just like "Hurrah!"

However, its creator was not a soldier.

Looking at all the excited soldiers and Sean standing on the podium with his arm raised, Eisenhower knew that this guy would influence the entire U.S. military.

His influence will even extend to the vast number of veterans.

Sean Wayne became a hero among American soldiers.

It gave them the seeds of faith, honor, and even personal heroism.

What a clever fellow!

This is Ridgway's assessment of Sean.

Sean's future is indescribable.

This is a consensus among many high-ranking military officials: they must maintain a good relationship with him.

His Excellency the Prophet was great; he easily won the favor of American soldiers.

No, he had already earned the admiration of German soldiers.

He is an invincible myth.

Hanni also clenched her fists excitedly on the side.

"I hereby declare the shooting competition officially open."

"Ahhhhh!"

"Woo woo woo woo woo!" All the soldiers even took off their coats and waved them in their hands.

Watching Sean walk back with a smile on his face.

Eisenhower stood up. With just a few simple words, this young man saved face for the U.S. military and boosted morale.

Transforming initial aversion into welcome and admiration, turning the rotten into the miraculous.

This is Sean Wayne's personality: not assertive, but confident and friendly.

"Sean, could you participate in the U.S. military recruitment process?"

"what?"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding officers and soldiers fell silent.

Participating in recruitment?

In other words, the War Department may have regarded Sean Wayne as the standard and role model for American soldiers.

His image represents the U.S. military.

This is an indescribable trust and affection.

"What did you say? Are you kidding me? You must be kidding me. You want me to participate in recruitment? Are you using my poster?" You should choose Captain America, or you can use the African American Captain America.

"I'm not kidding. Your shout, from this moment on, will be uttered by every American soldier, becoming their battle cry and a declaration of victory."

Ha ha ha.

I don't believe your nonsense. The Germans must have gotten their heads stuck in a door. Are you all out of your minds too?

"But I'm not a soldier!"

"What does it matter? Your Obsidian Corporation is a military contractor. What's the difference between those instructors and soldiers? They're even veterans."

As a warrior, this honor is eternal.

"Haha," Sean laughed as he looked at Eisenhower, "Are you crazy too? Just like Goring?"

"I'm not crazy." Eisenhower just smiled, seemingly seeing through Sean's thoughts. What he wanted was Sean's influence.

Smart people will naturally choose the best.

"I would suggest that General Marshall sign you up for sniper reconnaissance battalion training, and also Delta Force O..."

We'll give you a 30 million order, the best training, and help us build two elite teams.

You will become the father of American special operations, the founder of Delta Force, and the father of the American sniper.

Good heavens, and with the father of the rapid reaction force on top of that, I don't even know how to begin to criticize.

In short, I would advise General Marshall to persuade the Joint Council to sell this military base to you, or lease it to your Obsidian facility long-term as a comprehensive training base. You can tell me about any expansions or renovations you need, and I will report it immediately.

Sean, take my advice and become a military advisor to the U.S. Army.

Your future is limitless, and our army will support you without reservation.

This is advice from your friend, Eisenhower.

Eisenhower extended his hand.

Sean hesitated; this was indeed the best opportunity for advancement.

"Wait a minute, Sean Wayne might not be able to become an advisor to the Army."

3

A man in a suit stood up.

"What did you say?" Eisenhower looked to the side in surprise.

"Because President Roosevelt wanted to meet this American legend who pioneered the Sean system assembly line, he invited him to a banquet in the East Room of the White House, where he was likely to become the White House National Security Advisor, rather than the Army Military Advisor."

He could even become the youngest presidential advisor in history, responsible for military and security matters.

Presidential National Security Advisor?

The officers and soldiers present all changed color; their expressions could only be described as fascinating.

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