Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

Inside the building, the atmosphere was heavy with an air of authority.

The room was sparse, with only a large table, a few chairs, and a wide map sprawled across the surface. Three individuals stood near the table.

Two men and one strikingly athletic woman.

As Adam stepped inside, the three immediately stood at attention, their backs straight and their arms snapping into salutes.

"Lieutenant Adam, sir!" their voices rang out in unison, firm and resolute.

Adam returned their salute with a nod, his face as stern as ever. "At ease."

The trio lowered their hands and stood relaxed, their eyes subtly shifting toward Noah. Their expressions betrayed their curiosity. It was clear they were assessing the newcomer, their gazes filled with questions.

To them, Noah appeared far too young for the setting, his features and composed demeanour almost jarring against their expectations.

One of the men, a stocky figure with a buzz cut, leaned slightly toward the woman, whispering just loud enough for Noah to catch, "Is this the guy? He doesn't even look old enough to buy a drink."

The woman, tall and with a commanding presence, gave a faint smirk but didn't respond immediately. Her piercing gaze lingered on Noah, as though she were trying to decipher a puzzle.

The second man, lean and wiry with a sharp jawline, frowned slightly but kept his thoughts to himself. His rigid stance indicated he wasn't one to voice his doubts openly.

Adam broke the silence. "This is Noah Thompson," he began, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "He's here on official business, and he's someone you'll be seeing more of. I expect you to treat him with the same respect you would show me."

The buzz-cut soldier raised an eyebrow but quickly masked his scepticism with a nod. "Understood, sir."

The athletic woman stepped forward, her tone professional but her curiosity evident. "Welcome, Noah. If you don't mind me asking, what brings you here today?"

Noah's smirk widened slightly, his eyes scanning the trio before landing on her. His voice was calm but carried a tone that demanded attention. "I will be your new captain," he said, emphasizing the last word.

The woman's brow shot up, surprise flickering across her otherwise composed face. She glanced at Adam, her lips pressed together as if to say, 'Is this serious?'

Adam met her gaze with a faint smile and a confident nod. "That's correct. He will be your new captain."

The buzz-cut soldier shifted uncomfortably, his scepticism evident. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, glancing between Adam and Noah. "Isn't he too young for this?" His tone wasn't disrespectful, but it was laced with doubt.

Before Adam could respond, Noah stepped forward, his movements calm and calculated. He locked eyes with the buzz-cut soldier, his smirk transforming into a small, cold smile.

In this field, he knew respect wasn't handed out—it was earned, often with grit and dominance. He couldn't rely on Adam to do all the talking for him.

"Why don't you come and find out?" Noah said, his tone as smooth as it was daring.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. The athletic woman's eyes widened briefly before narrowing, her lips twitching into an almost imperceptible smirk. She seemed amused, intrigued even as if silently giving Noah credit for his boldness.

The buzz-cut soldier's jaw tightened. He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, his boots thudding against the floor. "Are you challenging me, Captain?" he asked, the word 'Captain' rolling off his tongue like a test.

Noah tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. "If that's what you think, then yes. Consider it an opportunity to see for yourself if I'm too young—or just the leader you've been waiting for."

The wiry man, who had been silent until now, let out a low whistle and muttered, "This just got interesting."

The buzz-cut soldier hesitated for a moment, glancing at Adam, who stood quietly watching the exchange with arms crossed. Adam's expression was neutral, but his eyes held an unmistakable glint of approval. It was clear he wasn't going to intervene. This was Noah's moment to establish himself.

"Fine," the buzz-cut soldier said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a physical challenge. "What do you have in mind, Captain?"

Noah's smirk widened as he folded his hands behind his back. "Simple. A test of reflexes. We'll both take a shot at each other. First to make a solid connection wins."

The buzz-cut soldier's lips curved into a grin, a mixture of confidence and challenge. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

The athletic woman took a step back, crossing her arms as she leaned against the table, clearly interested in the unfolding scene. "This should be good," she murmured, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Adam stepped aside, giving them space. "Settle this quickly," he said, his tone calm but firm. "We have work to do."

Noah nodded once, his eyes locked on the buzz-cut soldier. The man crouched slightly, his muscles taut like a coiled spring, ready to strike. Noah, however, stood completely still, his hands still clasped behind his back, exuding a calm that bordered on unsettling.

"Go!" Adam barked.

The buzz-cut soldier lunged forward with surprising speed, his fist aiming straight for Noah's chest. But Noah sidestepped effortlessly, his movement fluid and precise, as though he had been expecting the attack all along. Before the soldier could recover, Noah pivoted smoothly, his leg sweeping out in a lightning-fast arc.

The next moment, the buzz-cut soldier was on the ground, his back hitting the floor with a dull thud. A sharp intake of breath echoed through the room as everyone took in the scene. Noah had barely moved, yet his actions had been devastatingly effective.

Noah extended a hand to the fallen soldier, his expression unreadable. "Still think I'm too young?"

The soldier stared at him for a moment before shaking his head reluctantly. "Okay, you're strong in hand-to-hand combat. I'll give you that. Your reflexes are impressive too. But that doesn't mean you can lead a team. Strength won't mean much if you can't shoot."

Noah's lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fair enough. I'll give you a chance. Pick your best marksman, and let's see how he measures up."

The athletic woman and the wiry soldier exchanged glances before the wiry one gave a slight nod. "That would be me," he said, stepping forward with a confident but not cocky demeanour.

"So, you're the best among them?" Noah asked, his tone neutral but carrying a subtle edge of challenge.

"That's right," the wiry soldier replied, his voice steady. "Let's see if you're as sharp with a rifle as you are with your fists."

Noah turned to Adam, who was watching the interaction with interest. "Lieutenant Adam, could we head to a range or a shooting area? I'd like to settle this properly."

Adam nodded, his usual stern demeanour softened by a hint of amusement. "Follow me."

...

At the Shooting Range.

Rows of targets stretched out into the distance, and the area was equipped with an arsenal of weapons and boxes of ammunition. The buzz of activity around them faded as the group stepped into a quieter section reserved for testing.

Adam gestured to a rack holding sleek, powerful rifles. "Standard issue British automatic rifles. Take your pick."

Noah and the wiry soldier each selected a rifle, inspecting their weapons with care. The wiry soldier checked the sights and loaded his magazine with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. Noah mirrored the movements, his precision matching that of a seasoned professional, surprising the group.

The wiry soldier raised an eyebrow, watching Noah out of the corner of his eye. "You've used one of these before?"

Noah shook his head, his calm tone giving nothing away. "No."

Adam stepped forward, pointing to a row of targets set at varying distances—25, 50, and 100 meters. "This will be a standard accuracy test. First, you'll take shots at the closest target, then move to the medium distance, and finally the farthest. Ten shots per target. Whoever has the tightest grouping wins."

The wiry soldier smirked slightly, adjusting his stance. "Let's see what you've got, Captain."

Noah didn't respond. Instead, he adjusted the rifle in his hands, his movements calm and methodical.

Adam raised his hand. "On my mark. Three… two… one… fire!"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The wiry soldier immediately took his stance and fired his first shots with precision, the rhythmic cracks of his rifle echoing across the range. Each bullet struck the targets, forming a tight grouping near the centre. His eyes moved seamlessly to the medium target, maintaining his accuracy.

Meanwhile, Noah fired with casual ease, his posture relaxed as if he were taking a leisurely walk.

His shots, however, were anything but casual.

"How is that humanely possible..." The athletic woman said as she stared at Noah's target.