"I'm really sorry, but the crossword puzzle on the back of this issue is so cleverly designed, and the art of choosing words and sentences is amazing at any time."

Leonard exclaimed a little frivolously, and then smiled:

"You're not hurt, sir."

"I'm fine."

Ademisol quickly retracted the surprise in his eyes, his face regained his composure, and reminded with a smile:

"Or don't read the newspaper while walking, this kind of behavior, well, is neither gentlemanly nor dangerous."

Leonard shrugged slightly, "What you said is extremely true, and I will pay attention." ”

Then the two nodded to each other and staggered.

At the moment of misalignment, a glimmer of light flashed in Leonard's eyes, and the surprise in Ademisor's eyes just now did not hide from him.

Does this person know me? Leonard quickly retrieved Ademisor's face from memory.

Nothing.

I hadn't met this gentleman myself, but he knew himself, which was a little interesting.

The corners of Leonard's mouth curled up into a smile, but he didn't show a trace of abnormality, and said in a low voice:

"Was there anything special about that person just now?"

A moment later, an old voice appeared in his head,

"It's a 'monster.'"

"Monsters"?

Leonard looked curious, "If I'm not mistaken, this is the name of a Sequence 9?" ”

He then recalls that Old Neil had mentioned that the Dragon Bar in the docklands had a teenager nicknamed "Monster", and wondered if the two were connected.

"Yes, sequence 9 of the path of fate, you don't have to worry too much, the people on this path are basically members of the school of life."

Leonard quickly remembered the introduction of the School of Life he had seen in the Church books, and nodded slightly.

It's a moderate, secretive organization with no bad deeds, and sometimes even limited cooperation with official forces.

But this still doesn't explain the fact that the other party knows himself.

Fortunately, Leonard, who considers himself the main character, did not dwell on this matter for too long, and a small role in Sequence 9 did not require him to spend any effort to care about.

Not knowing that he was being treated as a minor character, Ademisor walked for a few minutes and stopped in front of an old-fashioned building with mottled walls.

The house number here is "3" and the door head reads "Zotland Shooting Club".

After a moment's scrutiny, Ademisol pushed open the door and entered, handing the badge of the "Special Operations Department" to the waiter in charge of reception.

After a little verification, he was led underground to a small hermetically sealed range.

"You're here for the first time, do you need me to introduce you?" , the waiter asked with a smile.

"Thanks, no, 10m half-body target."

Ademisol pulled his revolver from the pouch under his armpit and added:

"You can provide bullets here."

"Yes, sir, but for an additional fee."

The cost of bullets consumed by training, this should belong to the category of reimbursement.

Ademisor thought for a moment, waved his hand and pretended to be arrogant:

"Take 50 first."

The waiter looked at Ademisol strangely when he heard this, and then immediately nodded and smiled:

"Okay, please wait."

Syllable!

Throwing the wheel out, Ademisol pulled out three normal bullets of brass color from his pocket, one of which was stuffed into the empty nest to make up for the consumption of three shots at the wedding scene.

Smack!

He closed the wheel and slid it with his thumb.

Taking off the top hat from his head and placing it on the table next to him, he turned his head from side to side to relax slightly.

He stepped forward and stood behind the shooting table, his feet were in a figure of eight, slightly wider than his shoulders, his legs were naturally straight, his right hand was aimed at the target not far away, he turned slightly sideways, and his left arm naturally drooped.

This one-handed shooting position has great flexibility in engagement, with a small front-loading area, making it easier to hide behind cover, while exposing only the arms and shoulders, making it less likely to stray bullets.

Even if you are wounded in one arm, or if you are helping a wounded person, you can still aim and shoot.

There was no rush to shoot, and after holding the gun and aiming again and again, he gradually got used to this feeling.

After the waiter delivered 50 bullets, he took a deep breath and decisively pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The familiar recoil came, and Ademisore imagined that the target in front of him was the real enemy, and his right index finger kept pulling down, and he ran out of bullets in one go.

Syllable!

Handsomely throwing out the wheel, the bullet casings clanged to the ground, and Ademisore playfully struck a blowgun pose, as if he were a cowboy who had just won a duel.

"All off target!"

The staff in charge of reporting the target reminded loudly with a smile.

Belch... Obviously, every shot was carefully aimed.

After reloading his bullets in a slightly embarrassed manner, Ademisol refused to admit defeat and began a new round of practice.

Having learned from his experience, he shot one shot after another, groping for feelings in practice.

This time there is some progress, and it should gradually start to be targeted, he said secretly in his heart.

"All off target!"

Damn it!

Ademisol began to suspect that the revolver in his hand was a defective product in question.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"All off target!"

In the enclosed shooting range, the sound of gunfire continued to echo, and the target was as steady as Mount Tai.

After a few more rounds of practice, Ademisor walked to the bench next to him and began to rest.

Massaging his sore arm, he looked at the mid-term target reporter who was guarding outside the shooting range with some resentment.

Can you be quieter every time you report the target?

After complaining in his heart, he began to reflect on what was wrong with his shooting.

But after thinking about it, there is no result, I obviously aim very accurately every time, how can I miss the target every time, this is unreasonable.

Quietly called the waiter on the side, and he whispered, "Can you help me change to a 5-meter target?" ”

The waiter kept a smile on his face and replied politely:

"Sorry sir, the lowest difficulty we have here is the 10-meter target."

Damn it!

With a low curse in his heart, he kept a smile on his face and bowed his head to indicate that he knew.

When the soreness in his arm subsided, he returned to the firing position.

This time he took a two-handed pistol stance, and after carefully keeping his eyes, crosshairs, and target in a straight line, he confidently pulled the trigger.

"All off target!"

“……”

Ademisor, who had been sitting and resting for a long time, is now no longer interested in improving his shooting skills.

When I became a "machine", it wasn't a problem.

He muttered to himself viciously in his heart, and immediately looked at the wall clock on the wall, at 3:30 p.m., not knowing when Klein would come.

At this time, the waiter took the initiative to come over and politely reminded:

"If you don't want to shoot anymore, get out of the range."

Ademisor, who heard the reminder, reluctantly got up and said:

"I'm going to keep practicing."

Standing at the firing position, his mind was tumbling about what to tell Crane when he came.

After a casual aim, he pulled the trigger.

"All on target!"

What!

Ademisor turned to look at the target reporter in shock, and found that the other party was equally surprised.

Syllable!

He shook off the wheel and quickly reloaded the bullet, maintaining the standard position of holding the gun in both hands, and after a moment of careful aiming, he ran out of bullets in one go, and then turned his head to look at the target reporter with an expectant face.

The target reporter hesitated for a moment, but finally shouted loudly: "All missed!" ”

Damn it!