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Chapter 7: Comparing Shots (2)
After the round of fire, Officer Brandt lowered his rifle and smiled satisfactorily. The fifty-meter target shot could be said to a work of masterpiece. Twenty years of experience as a sharpshooter in the army trained his quick hands and eagle eyes.
The watcher appointed in charge of overseeing the compet.i.tion hurriedly ran towards the target.
"Officer Brandt! Fifty-meter target! Two hits on the center and one hit on the inner! Twenty-nine points earned!" The watcher bellowed.
Twenty-nine points… almost a full mark!
The onlookers widened their eyes in succession as their mouth drooped to the ground. They'd just bore witness to an inhuman feat!
Officer Brandt smiled smugly yet his eyes remained serious and austere. Shaking his head dismally, he sighed a deep breath. "If not for the condition and my state of mind, the three consecutive shots would have been a bullseye."
"Tch… you're no rifle master." Kyle scoffed under his breath, the insulting comment meant only for him. Then, he shrugged his shoulder and headed towards the platform. "Let's get this over with."
Truth be told, jitters of nervousness ran through his body. He lived in an era devoid of turbulence. It was a time of peace and lacked any semblance of war, well, at least where he grew up. Moreover, he'd never touched a pistol in his life, but at this moment, equipped with the skill cards, he felt a sense of familiarity arising as he raised the pistol in ready position.
Kyle raised his eyes and gazed at the target resting from a far distance. His movements were rough yet seemed to bring about a sense of precision and profoundness. Then, he aimed and fired three shots in less than half a second.
"What a shame." Officer Brandt sighed and shook his head.
The fifty-meter target was of a long range. It'd already proven him difficult with the use of a rifle. What more with a pistol? What a shame indeed.
If you want to win over me, kid, you'll have to hit the bullseye three times. A shame you won't be able to. Your chances are slim, kid.
The watcher ran over and checked before reporting. "Recruit Kyle! Fifty-meter target! Three rounds of shots missed! Total score of zero!"
All was eerie silent.
Then, suddenly, rounds of laughter burst through.
Officer Brandt was left shocked to the core. He believed the kid would show some talent. He seemed confident prior to this, no? He should be able to hit the target even if he's bound to lose, but never did Officer Brandt think Kyle would fail to meet his expectations.
"You… idiot! Hurry and pack up then get out of here!" Officer Brandt lashed out.
Kyle remained calm. "Watcher, please check the hundred-meters target!"
"Hundred-meters target?" Officer Brandt questioned. "Kid, what are you trying to do? Don't joke around."
Officer Brandt could no longer keep his rising anger in check. He went to Kyle with the rifle still in his grip. His face turned blue then purple while the muzzle had almost hit Kyle's head.
"Kid, you failed! Get out or I swear to G.o.d, I'll shoot your brains out!"
"This Recruit only wants to know if he's failed the bet, Sir." Kyle replied. "Would it be alright to wait for the watcher to report the score for the hundred-meters target?"
"You crazy? You want to make a fool out of yourself? You wanna get shot that badly?" Officer Brandt harrumphed. He placed his finger on the trigger.
At the same time, the watcher hurriedly reported the score. "Recruit Kyle! Hundred-meters target! Three shots fired! All bullseye! Thirty points scored in total! A perfect score!"
What?!
Hundred-meters target?!
Three bullseyes?!
The manic laughter in the shooting range quickly diminished. All was dismal and quiet.
The enlisted men and women and the officers were left stunned to the core.
Officer Brandt parted his lips. "Ah…"
To be sure he wasn't dreaming, he ordered the watcher to verify the results once more.
As if on cue, the watcher repeated the earlier score. "Recruit Kyle! Hundred-meters target! Three shots fired! All bullseye! Thirty points scored in total! A perfect score!"
Officer Brandt sighed and slowly lowered his rifle.
"Like this, this Recruit has won the bet fair and square, Sir. I will go ahead and continue training. Thank you for allowing this Recruit a chance, Sir." Kyle breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, almost panicking when the rifle's muzzle was pointed to his head.
The military, it ain't a f.u.c.king joke!
But it's good he won. He's able to show off his skill. It felt good. It felt great.
Not waiting for a reply, Kyle soon left the platform and walked towards Agent Carter with means to return her black aureate pistol.
"I didn't expect that you have such a skill." She said coldly.
Kyle's lips curled to a soft smile. "You can do the same too."
"How do you know?"
"Just a guess." Kyle shrugged. "But you're my G.o.ddess of Victory. When I have the chance, I'd like to formally thank you later on."
Kyle smiled and bid his goodbye. He turned around and left the shooting range, leaving Agent Carter and Officer Brandt in a state of trance.
Once out of the shooting range, Steve quickly ran over and gave his friend a tight brotherly hug. "Kyle, you really scared me to death!"
"Ah… Steve… I'm not gay…" Kyle joked. "I like women. I'm straight."
But nevertheless, he returned his friend's hug.
Thereafter, he placed his two hands on Steven's shoulder.
"Thank you for watching out for me, Steve."
Steve smiled, beaming with happiness. "I didn't expect you'd be skillful with the guns. Teach me later, alright?"
"Of course." Kyle nodded. "I learn from you, you learn from me. We're brothers. Gotta watch out for one another."