Chapter 236: The Apology
The group of guys stood frozen in place, not daring to move.
Emily walked down from the platform step by step, her footsteps echoing particularly clearly in the silent dining hall. She approached Zoey first:
"Zoey, now in front of everyone here, repeat what you just told me."
Zoey's legs went weak with fear, her voice trembling: "I'm sorry, those rumors were all made up by me. I was jealous of you, so I spread lies about you."
"What else?" Emily asked coldly.
Zoey was crying so hard that snot and tears streaked her face. "It's true that Kismet told me to do it. She promised that if I could get you kicked out of the training camp, she'd help me get what I wanted."
The dining hall erupted in shocked murmurs again, with everyone looking at Zoey with contempt.
Only then did Emily turn to the group of guys: "You all had plenty to say earlier. Why so quiet now?"
The guys exchanged glances, until finally the tall one stepped forward reluctantly: "Emily, we're sorry. We shouldn't have believed the rumors, and we definitely shouldn't have... shouldn't have acted so disrespectfully toward you."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "Just an apology and that's it? Do you realize how much damage those words you said could cause to a woman's reputation if they got out?"
The guys hung their heads in shame: "We're willing to accept any punishment."
Emily looked around: "Good! Since you know you were wrong, I'll give you a chance to make things right."
"First, from now on, you're not allowed to spread any more rumors about me."
"Second, if you hear others spreading rumors, you need to actively step up and set the record straight."
"Third, write me an apology letter and read it aloud publicly."
The guys nodded frantically as if they'd been granted amnesty: "Yes, yes! We'll definitely do it!"
Only then did Emily nod with satisfaction: "I hope you remember today's lesson. Don't be so quick to believe rumors in the future, and never use vicious words to hurt others."
After dealing with all this, Emily felt much better. She clapped her hands and addressed the watching trainees: "Alright, everyone, show's over. Eat if you need to eat, train if you need to train!"
The trainees finally snapped out of their trance and dispersed, but the way they looked at Emily had completely changed.
After the commotion, Sean found Emily preparing for the shooting test. She was concentrating on adjusting her handgun, with sunlight streaming across her focused profile, making her look particularly captivating.
He stammered: "Emily, I'm sorry."
Emily didn't look up, continuing to fiddle with the gun parts: "What for?"
"I heard those rumors, but didn't stand up to defend you. I'm such a jerk."
"It's fine, I didn't take those little things to heart anyway."
But the more casually she dismissed it, the worse Sean felt: "But I care! I said I liked you, yet I doubted you when it mattered. I'm such a loser."
Emily finally looked up, patting his shoulder. She seemed genuinely unbothered: "Really, it's nothing. Truth always comes to light anyway. If you really feel bad about it, just treat me to a nice dinner sometime as an apology."
Sean looked at her radiant smile, feeling even more miserable. The more she didn't care, the more it proved how unimportant he was to her—a realization that made his chest ache.
Of course, his guess was correct.
Emily acted indifferent precisely because she didn't care.
Sean's voice was somewhat choked: "Emily, I wish you and Mr. Windsor happiness."
He bowed deeply, and when he turned to leave, his eyes were red.
Emily watched his retreating figure and shrugged helplessly. These young people took emotions way too seriously.
Right now, she just wants to focus on preparing for the upcoming shooting test. Nothing else mattered!
Meanwhile, Kismet was in her lounge, frantically smashing things like a woman possessed. She snarled through gritted teeth: "Emily! You bitch! Making me lose face in front of all those people—I'll never forgive you!"
With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number, her voice chillingly cold: "Hello, change of plans. I need you to..."
Whatever Kismet was planning, the test began as scheduled.
The examiner cleared all non-participants from the training ground, leaving only the trainees taking the test. They stood in formation, each gripping their assigned weapons, waiting for the examiner's instructions.
Emily stood in formation, focusing intently on checking her handgun. However, when she pulled the bolt, her brow furrowed slightly. Something was wrong!
The bolt was severely jammed and wouldn't budge. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the firing pin had been deliberately bent, the spring had lost its elasticity, and worse still, the scope's adjustment screws had been maliciously loosened, leaving the entire lens crooked.
"Instructor, there's a problem with my weapon," Emily quickly reported.
But the examiner announced sternly: "According to training camp regulations, weapon malfunctions must be repaired by the trainee themselves. Failure to fix the weapon before the test begins will result in disqualification!"
At this announcement, quite a few trainees looked at Emily with schadenfreude. The guys who had been embarrassed in the dining hall earlier exchanged satisfied glances.
Kaida came over worriedly: "What's wrong with your gun? Do you need help?"
Emily shook her head: "It's fine, just a small problem. I can handle it myself."
The examiner began the countdown: "Ten minutes remaining for preparation! Trainees requiring repairs, please note that requesting help from others will also result in disqualification."
Though Emily hadn't planned on relying on Kaida anyway, she couldn't help rolling her eyes at the examiner.
This guy really talked too much!
The examiner pretended not to notice Emily's eye roll. He was just following regulations—if someone wanted to sabotage Emily, what could he do?
Watch the show, of course.
While other trainees made their final adjustments, Emily calmly opened her toolkit. She first used professional pliers to carefully straighten the bent firing pin, her movements as skilled as a professional gunsmith.
"She's just putting on an act. Does she think she's some kind of weapons expert?" someone whispered mockingly.
Emily ignored them completely, continuing to work with focus. She took out a spring tension gauge, measured the spring's elasticity coefficient, then pulled out a backup high-precision spring from her toolkit to replace it.
"Five minutes remaining!" the examiner's voice rang out again.
At that moment, Kismet appeared at the training ground from somewhere, standing in the distance watching coldly, a mocking smile playing at her lips.