Shooting

By the time he had collected all the drawings, it was already Monday of the second week.

Takuya stretched, and his bones cracked all over.

He turned to Bernard, who had just finished dealing with some business on the hotel phone, and said, "Bernard, take me somewhere today."

"No problem, sir. Where to? Universal Studios or Disney?" Bernard hung up the phone, thinking his boss was finally going to relax.

"Range."

Bernard's expression froze. "-where?"

"A shooting range, a place to shoot guns," Takuya said casually. "I'm looking for a professional one with a wide variety of firearms."

Bernard opened his mouth, looked at Takuya's innocent face, and after a long pause, finally managed to say, "Takuya —we're going to see Mr. Clancy on Wednesday, not to conduct a tactical exercise with him. Those drawings you made are enough to knock him out."

"Of course, there's no need to go to that extent." Takuya patted him on the shoulder and laughed. "It's just that you don't get to experience this kind of thing much in Japan, and the selection isn't as complete as in United States. Since we're here, we should at least try it out."

Hollywood has no shortage of wealthy people, and even more so, no shortage of top-notch shooting ranges that cater to them.

Bernard chose a highly private location, and the coach was a burly, stern-faced former Marine.

After explaining the proper grip and firing techniques of the Colt M1911 to Takuya, he stepped aside, his eyes filled with professional scrutiny.

Bang!

The immense recoil caused Takuya's wrist to jerk, and the bullet struck the edge of the target.

Bernard, watching from behind, chuckled, "Takuya, it seems you're better suited to using a pen."

Takuya stretched his wrists, ignoring his teasing, and tried out Beretta 92F and a revolver.

After firing a dozen or so bullets, he slowly got the hang of it, but his brows furrowed more and more tightly.

"Change to a longer rifle," Takuya said to the coach.

The instructor brought over an M16A2 assault rifle.

Following the instructions, Takuya painstakingly locked onto the target a hundred meters away using the iron sights, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

After several shots, the result was barely a hit.

"Too slow, and the visibility is too poor." Takuya put down his gun and shook his head.

The coach next to him raised an eyebrow, seemingly finding the assessment unprofessional. "Young man, armies all over the world train like this. If you want to shoot accurately, you have to practice."

"No, what I mean is, the aiming method itself is flawed." Takuya looked at the coach and said seriously, "To aim at that tiny crosshair, your attention is completely locked, and you can't observe your surroundings at all. On the battlefield, that's fatal."

The coach was stunned; it was the first time he had ever heard a guest analyze a problem from this perspective.

Takuya turned to the range manager and asked, "Do you have any rifles with electronic sights here? Red dot sights, or anything similar?"

The manager and coach exchanged a glance, both seeing surprise in each other's eyes.

These days, red dot sights are rare high-tech gadgets, expensive, and usually only used by professional shooting competitors and a few special forces units.

"We have an AR-15 that's been specially modified for the competition, equipped with Sweden -made red dot sight," the manager replied.

"Take a look."

When the rifle equipped with a large, tubular red dot sight was handed to Takuya, Bernard curiously leaned closer. "What's so special about this thing?"

"A different era."

Takuya raised his gun, this time not closing one eye, but opening both eyes wide.

In the field of vision, a clear red dot instantly landed on the bullseye.

He needed almost no adjustment time before pulling the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Five bullets were fired in quick succession.

The numbers on the target reporting device came through: all five shots hit the area above nine rings.

The coach's mouth gaped slightly. He had just wanted to reprimand the young man for being overly ambitious, but the other man had taught him a lesson through his actions.

"See that?" Takuya lowered his gun, the barrel still smoking, and said to Bernard like a product engineer analyzing a product, "This is the future. Quickly locate the enemy, maintain a clear view of the surrounding area, what you see is what you aim at."

He stroked the mounting bracket below the scope, a type of rail called a "Weaver".

A term flashed through his mind: Picatinny Rail.

A standardized modular platform that can be easily fitted with laser pointers, tactical flashlights, and grips.

He silently noted down this future "golden idea," temporarily suppressing it, along with countless business secrets, deep into his memory.

"Coach, is there anything else? I'd like to try something a bit older." Takuya put down his rifle, still wanting more.

He nodded and took a rifle with a slender barrel and a gleaming wooden stock from the rack.

"Winchester M1894, lever-action rifle. The romance of the Western cowboy."

Takuya took the gun; it was quite heavy.

He imitated what he saw in the movie, clumsily pulling the lever, the brass cartridge ejecting with a crisp sound, and a new bullet being chambered.

This process is full of mechanical feel, quite different from the cold efficiency of the M16.

"Hey, Takuya, are you going to audition for the lead role in a Western?" Bernard teased from behind.

Takuya smiled but didn't answer.

He picked up his gun, aimed at the steel target fifty meters away, and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The gunshot was muffled, and the recoil was much gentler.

Without pausing, he removed his right index finger from the trigger, skillfully hooked the lever with his four fingers, pulled it down, and then pulled it back.

"Snap!"

The entire movement was performed in one smooth motion, far more fluid than the first time.

The image that flashed through his mind was of Arthur Morgan hunting in the snowy mountains in the game from his previous life.

That raw, reliable feeling, that every shot and every bullet is incredibly precious, is something an assault rifle can never provide.

"Give me another shotgun."

The coach brought over a Remington 870.

"A size 12 lead bullet, at close range, is like a god."

Takuya took the ruggedly designed weapon, pulled the handguard, and made that signature "click" sound.

He didn't even need to aim; he simply roughly pointed the muzzle at the target.

Boom!

A deafening explosion shook the entire firing position. The immense recoil slammed into his shoulder, instantly riddling the target with countless bullet holes.

Takuya felt completely refreshed. He quickly pulled back the handguard, ejected the cartridge, loaded the gun, and fired again.

He felt the sheer destructive power and oppressive force of this weapon, imagining the despair any enemy would feel facing it in the narrow corridor.

This is what it felt like for John Wick in the catacombs, shooting one enemy after another, unstoppable.

Takuya placed the scorching hot shotgun on the table, rubbed his numb shoulders, and felt satisfied.

The coach stepped forward and said sincerely, "Sir, you have a strong learning ability. There's a comprehensive tactical training ground behind our shooting range that can simulate close-quarters combat indoors, with moving targets and hostage targets. Would you like to try a timed lap?"

Bernard also became interested. "Sounds good! Takuya, how about you show off your skills?"

Takuya shook his head, smiling as he looked at the instructor, "Experiencing the feel of machinery is enough. That field is the battlefield for professionals like you."

He knew perfectly well that static target practice and shooting while moving under pressure were two different things.

With my mediocre Kung Fu, I might be able to put on a show at the shooting range, but if I actually went down there and ran a lap, I'd only make a complete fool of myself.

No need.

As Bernard walked out of the shooting range, he was still savoring the sound of the gunshots and excitedly asked, "Alright, I've fired a gun and had my fill of fun."

"Tomorrow should be a day to completely relax, right?"

"No problem, it's up to you, just don't do anything too exciting." Takuya shrugged.