Mystery: I can change things in books

Chapter 41 Gun Practice
If it was Horik David, that would be normal...

Chris cursed in his heart, looked at the waiter and said with a sneer: "Of course I am not as wasteful as Horik, I am very economical."

The waiter looked at Chris suspiciously, then sighed softly, handed the triangular badge back to him, and said, "I hope so. In the innermost room of the shooting range, you can choose your own equipment."

Chris nodded, pushed open the glass door next to the waiter, and walked in.He went down two flights of stairs to the underground shooting range.

There was a strong smell of gunpowder in the shooting range, and there were many yellow bullet casings and some paper boxes piled in the corners of the ground.

At this time, there are only three police officers here practicing shooting. They wear a sound-isolating device similar to headphones. Their postures look very standard and they are very attentive.

Chris walked to the gear section and picked out a regular revolver.

Chris loaded the bullets one by one, then took the gun and walked to the shooting area dedicated to the Mechanical Heart.

He took a deep breath, then raised the gun and found that it was heavier than he thought.

call……

Chris imitated the movements of the three policemen, holding the gun with both hands, raising his arms straight forward, closing his right eye, and aimed at the human-shaped target five meters away.

boom!
The revolver in his hand fired, and the huge recoil made Chris's wrist numb for a while, and this round missed the target.

Didn't stand firm...

Chris spread his legs slightly and re-aimed at the humanoid target in front of him.

He held his breath and then pulled the trigger.

boom!
This time Chris successfully hit the target, but the location where the bullet hit made him feel a little embarrassed:

My skills can make criminals' lives worse than death...

Chris smiled self-deprecatingly, then refocused and fired the remaining four rounds in the magazine.

Bang bang bang!

Three of the four shots hit the target. Chris put down the revolver and rubbed his numb wrist.

Not bad, five of the six bullets hit.

I'll try other guns...

Chris returned to the equipment area with the revolver, thinking about changing to a weapon.

Looking at the different styles of revolvers in the equipment area, Chris felt that there were even more types of equipment here than the mechanical heart's equipment library.

Of course, this is also because Albert only introduced him to a very small part of the weapons in the equipment library.

"Friend, which department are you in?"

The three police officers who practiced shooting just now stopped shooting at some point. They came for training together.

"I'm from Group Five."

Chris replied kindly to them.

"Five groups?"

The three policemen looked surprised and asked in unison: "Have you finished practicing now?"

"No, I'll change my gun."

"Oh, change the gun," the tall policeman joked, "I just said that it is impossible for the five groups to complete the training so quickly."

……

Chris looked helpless as he watched them leave. How could the reputation of the Heart of Machines be so bad here?
It can't be because of that Horrick guy...

Chris smiled bitterly and shook his head. Without thinking much, he picked up a rather strange-looking revolver from the equipment area. The axis of the barrel of this revolver was below the axis of the runner.

He loaded the bullet, walked to the shooting area, and repeated his previous actions.

This time he felt that his wrist was no longer so numb. Chris also felt that the recoil of the two revolvers at the front and back was different. The recoil of the one in his hand was much smaller.

Chris became more and more proficient in his shooting movements. When he could hit all the shots, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Then he took off his coat and continued to repeat the previous actions.

Chris recalled the gunfight movies he had watched before, imitating the shooting movements of those special forces, as well as Klein's shooting skills.

Draw the gun, aim, fire, put the gun away...

Chris practiced for a while, rested for a few minutes, and then continued to repeat the movements he had already performed hundreds of times.

That's it for today... Chris pulled the trigger one last time, then blew the remaining smoke from the gun coolly, raised his foot over the shell casings, and put the revolver back into the equipment area.

I shouldn’t need to clean it up...

Before Chris stepped onto the stairs, he took one last look at the mountain of bullet casings on the ground.

He pushed open the glass door and smiled at the waiter: "Goodbye, goodbye."

"and many more."

Chris was about to leave when he was stopped by the waiter.

What, you don’t have to charge money?Is one bullet worth one suler?

Chris looked at the waiter, who was staring at a printer-like machine next to him.

"Beep, beep, beep..."

The machine spit out a sheet, the waiter tore it off, then picked it up and looked at it, the expression on his face gradually solidified.

"What, what's wrong?"

Chris touched his nose unconsciously.

"This morning," the waiter raised the sheet in his hand, "you practiced 560 three bullets!"

560 three?How can there be so many...

Chris laughed twice and asked: "Did...the calculation was wrong? How did you know?"

“That’s what everyone in Group Five said!”

The waiter glared at Chris, with an expression that made him want to eat him, and then explained to him: "There is a radio device above each shooting area. Every time a bullet is fired, it will be recorded. This device was donated by the five groups of you." of."

He put away the list and continued resentfully: "Although you don't have to pay for the bullets, the amount of practice that other police officers do in ten days is not as much as that of your five groups in one day..."

"Okay, okay, thank you, goodbye."

Chris gave him a standard salute and left the underground shooting range.

After leaving the underground, he pushed open the door of No. 3 Zotland Street. The midday sun shone brightly from the sky. Chris stretched his front with his hands, trying to bring himself some cool air.

He walked slowly along the wall and smelled the aroma wafting from the corner. Following the aroma, he turned into a restaurant.

"Hello sir, what would you like to eat?"

The waiter asked politely, holding the menu in his arms.

"Feneport surface, is there any?"

"Yes sir, there are three types: large, medium and small. Do you want one?"

"Large part."

"Yes sir, sevenpence."

Chris handed the waiter a five-sule note and took four one-sule notes and a few odd pennies that the waiter had found.

Chris's stomach growled, and he desperately wanted to eat a big meal to replenish the energy he had lost from practicing shooting.

A steaming portion of Fenebaud pasta was served shortly after. Chris looked at the thick layer of red in the bowl and couldn't help but swallow.

Oops, I forgot to tell the waiter to put less chili...

Feneport cuisine is famous in the northern and southern continents for its many peppers. In addition to many peppers, authentic Feneport cuisine is also mixed with various spices.

Various spices can not only add the fragrance of food, but also suppress the spiciness of chili peppers. This style has also become popular in Loen in recent years.

Chris used a fork to carefully remove the chili peppers from the noodles, and then took a sip of the soup.

A thick soup with seafood flavor penetrates the tip of the tongue. In addition, there is a strong flavor of spices and a slight spicy taste.

Hmm, it looks like the chilli was added later and the spiciness didn't seep into the soup.

Without worrying about chili, Chris devoured the bowl of noodles.

He patted his slightly round belly, opened the door and left.

Check out Tequila Cantina…

(End of this chapter)