âYou donât get to talk to me, shrimp.â The man pointed his rifle at Nikolaiâs forehead, pushing his head back. âYour kind is the reason people look down on gunmen, I want nothing from you.â
âThen you should do your job and let me have the exam.â
âMy job is to create gunmen, not entertain con artists.â The man frowned. âLeave before I turn your brain into mashed potatoes.â
âThat sounds like a good bet. Weâll both take the test. The more accurate one wins. If I lose, you can turn my brain into mashed potatoes.â Nikolai stared at the man in the eyes, his eyes unwavering. âIf I win, however, Iâll have your Gunman Badge.â
Silence descended like a veil before the man broke into hysterical laughter. Regan pulled on Nikolaiâs shoulder as if he was trying to bring him back to his senses.
âAre you insane, kid?â Regan squeezed his shoulder and it ached badly. âThis man is a certified gunman. Furthermore, his perception is a hundred times more than yours.â
âRegan, youâve brought me not only a kid but a lunatic!â The man had tears in his eyes from his laughter. âFred! Get your ass over here and take this guy out!â
âI think you should honor his bravery, Sir Conan.â A melodious voice, dripping with righteousness and heroism, said from behind Nikolai. âHeâs asking for a duel, you should know no matter how weak the opponent is, he should be honored.â Valkyrie Helnes walked over with Fred following right after her.
âMiss Helnes, I respect your beliefs but I canât entertain lunatics. I donât have the time.â Conan shook his head. âThis kid is wasting his money and testing my patience.â
âHonor is worthy of your patience,â Valkyrie said as a bead of sweat rolled down her face.
âHonor my ass,â Nikolai almost rolled his eyes. As much as he hated this girlâs attitude, as much as he appreciated it at the moment.
âIs honor that important if heâll certainly lose his life?â Conan frowned. âIâm not participating in this bet. Thatâs the end of it.â
âThe only certainty is that Iâm not the one backing down. If I die, I die. Thatâs none of your concern, esteemed sir.â Nikolai added in the end just to avoid being beaten to a pulp.
ââ¦â Sir Conan looked at him silently with squinted eyes. He then looked around the field at a helmet that was almost a kilometer away. âDo you see that?â He said to Nikolai before standing up.
Nikolai glanced at it and nodded. Conan didnât say anything and turned his back toward the helmet. He then held his rifle over his shoulder and fired.
The gunshot rang in their eyes as Nikolai saw the helmet fall. It was an admirable feat, to shoot down such a far object without looking at it. This required superhuman perception and calculation.
âNow, beat it.â
âI still think I can beat you.â Nikolai smiled. Conan stared at him and shook his head.
âIf that doesnât change your mind, then Iâll grant you your death wish. The exam is to shoot ten targets in ten seconds. If you hit seven of them, you pass. Four of those targets will be moving.â Conan stood up. âIf you lose, I donât want your brain. Iâll have you be my servant for the rest of your life.â
âDonât forget about the badge,â Nikolai reminded. âI know it needs to be renewed every month, so itâs not that important.â
âLetâs talk about that after you win.â Conan started limping toward the shooting field. Nikolai glanced at his leg and followed right after.
He glanced behind when he heard footsteps behind him. Regan, Fred, and Valkyrie were following behind them. Meeting his gaze, Regan shrugged.
âWeâre bored.â
Nikolai sighed. The shooting range was a few hundred meters wide. It had many targets, both moving and immobile. Conan limped toward the center of the field where there was a circular track.
âYouâll stand here, weâll be watching from behind the glass. Ten seconds, ten targets. Letâs see whoâs the better gunman, kiddo.â Conan said with a grin.
Nikolai didnât answer and simply took out his gun. He walked until he was in the middle of the field. He then felt it, the sense of belonging.
How much time has he spent surrounded by such targets? Their immobility, the sound they make when they slide across the tracks, and the smell of gunpowder that never refused to abandon this place.
âThree!â
Nikolai raised his gun with his eyes closed.
âTwo!â
He started calculating the course of action, the sequence of targets, and the pattern they moved in.
âOne!â
He opened his eyes and aimed at the first target. The recoil made his wrist ache, but heâll get used to it. He didnât check and simply moved on to the next target, the one after, and the next.
On the first three shots, Conanâs face turned grim. Regan and Fred watched with wide eyes as interest twinkled in Valkyrieâs eyes.
On his fifth shoot, Nikolai missed and his bullet deflected on the iron pole that carried the target. Conan gave a knowing smile as Regan sighed in relief.
He kept shooting and on the last bullet, the two moving targets aligned in front of Nikolai as he shot them both using one bullet.
The ten seconds were up and Nikolai breathed out. His wrist ached badly, but it wasnât something that he canât handle. As he walked back toward the group, he enjoyed their shocked expression.
âI wouldnât mind it if you forfeit,â Nikolai said to Conan who simply snorted.
âSome of your shots arenât accurate enough, watch how a real gunman does it.â Even though he said, a thick smile plastered over his face. In his mind, he was probably thinking about how he got a talented servant.
Too bad for him, Nikolai had other plans. As Conan stood in the middle of the field, the targets began to move. Nikolai knew it was a piece of cake for this man, but he hoped he would be lucky.
And luck was his plaything.
As Conan shot down the target, he reached the final two moving targets. As he aimed and shot at the ninth target, suddenly the pole that carried it broke down and bent.
The bullet went past the target and landed on a tree. Conan flinched and struck the last target before staring at the bent pole in shock.
âYou did this,â He turned to Nikolai with wide eyes. âYou never missed, but simply weakened the pole. Even still, the chances of it falling under its weight now areâ¦â
âI guess arenât zero.â Nikolai crossed his arms with a smile. âA win is still a win, old man.â
âHahaha,â Conan laughed as he raised his face toward the sky. He took out his badge and threw it at Nikolai. âWhatâs your name, boy?â
âNikolai Yaran.â He caught the badge and studied it. âIâll take a good care of this.â Nikolai smiled. With this, he wouldnât need to worry about ammunition.