Chapter 10 Master of Single Action Speed Shooting
Entering through the dark door and walking down a flight of stairs, a dim corridor came into view.
The corridor was empty, with no guards protecting the secret chamber as Hiltina had anticipated.
Thinking about it, this made sense; after all, this was just a small cult organization that had been established for less than half a year.
The ability to create a secret door mechanism and send out sentries to patrol the manor was already their limit… If they really wanted to resemble a movie’s secret base with strict security requiring multiple checkpoints to enter, that would be overly demanding for these self-made cultists.
Rast and Hiltina walked down the dark corridor, with the yellow light on the wall flickering on and off.
“By the way, once your chariot reaches the third tier, you all can have combat power like what I just saw?” Rast asked.
What he said was not a lie; Hiltina’s display of destructive power in their previous battle had indeed exceeded Rast’s expectations.
Although the chariot sequence sounded strong just by the name, and Hiltina was two tiers higher than himself, the ability to slice bullets with a lightsaber… in this night world echoing only with revolvers and bolt-action rifles, was quite extraordinary.
In comparison, his own high tower long tier, which could only provide mental intimidation, felt like a child picked up by the Night World and the Lord of Silence.
What kind of imbalance did this profession system come from?
Rast couldn’t help but recall a value planner from his previous life at a game company, who usually remained silent but occasionally showed an evil grin while looking at the screen.
“The chariot is just the long tier of the sequence I belong to, not my name,” Hiltina said, her cowlick bouncing slightly.
“And it’s not as exaggerated as you imagine; I’m considered an exception at the third tier… With just one more experience in the night world echo, I’ll be able to confidently cross the tier and advance further.”
“Additionally, to avoid surprises, besides the abilities of the chariot sequence, I also activated my ‘Night Blade’ just now.”
“Night Blade?”
“Yeah, Night Blade—‘the blade granted by the Night World to its favored ones,’ is how I interpret that name.”
Hiltina thought for a moment and explained, “If we compare different long tiers in a sequence to different careers, even without entering the night world, one can play the role of a professional through the inheritance of knowledge and training.”
“So, the Night Blade is a blessing and protection granted by the Night World to its favored ones, and it is a unique ability of each Night Traveler.”
“To my knowledge, there has never been a completely identical Night Blade.”
She paused her steps: “Once you leave this historical echo and become a Night Traveler, you should also be able to acquire your unique Night Blade.”
“It’s said that the ‘Night Blade’ is the manifestation of the inner landscape of each Night Traveler. To be honest, I’m quite curious; what kind of Night Blade will reflect your inner world?”
Of course, all of this presupposes that we can really survive and make it out of Deep Blue Harbor.
Hiltina did not voice this thought, but both knew it instinctively.
…
At the end of the corridor was a tightly shut door.
Through the gap, a faint light could be seen behind the door.
Rast approached the door, took out a silver white revolver, and aimed at the door bolt.
Bang—
The bolt was broken, and the door opened with a bang.
“Don’t move, West District Patrol Bureau.”
“Acting on the orders of Councilman Talis, we are searching this criminal den.”
Behind the wooden door was a stone altar, and at the center of many ritual utensils and offerings stood a sculpture made of black iron.
A middle-aged man dressed as a fisherman was setting up ritual items in front of the altar. Upon seeing the two intruders, a look of hatred appeared in his eyes.
“Once again, it’s that old thing Talis!”
“I knew he would covet the Master’s sacred relic.”
“Even if the ritual fails, I will never let him succeed.”
As he spoke, the middle-aged fisherman interrupted the setup and grabbed a nearby shotgun, aiming not at Rast and Hiltina but directly at the sculpture at the center of the altar.
Bang bang bang, bang bang bang—
The six rapid gunshots were not fired by the fisherman posing as the cult leader, but by Rast who shot first.
The first three bullets pierced the man’s left wrist, right wrist, and side of his spine, causing the g*n he held to drop as his body contorted in pain.
Following that, his expression of agony froze.
Two shots to the chest, one to the head.
Mozambique drill.
The remaining three bullets hit vital points precisely, exploding bl**d and stripping the man of life.
“Pretty accurate,” Hiltina narrowed her brown eyes.
Pure gunmanship was nothing remarkable in her eyes; thanks to the physical enhancements provided by the chariot sequence, Hiltina had aced every live-fire shooting test at Starry University.
But Rast used a single-action revolver, and the six rounds he discharged in just two seconds had already surpassed the theoretical firing rate of such an old revolver.
The only explanation was that he employed a shooting technique called ‘Single Action Speed Shooting.’ Hiltina’s shooting instructor had mentioned this technique before; the principle was to create a coherent shooting rhythm between the hammer pull and the trigger pull, significantly reducing shooting intervals.
However, Single Action Speed Shooting required extreme proficiency while essentially being a technique that substituted speed for accuracy, serving merely as a spray-and-pray style for suppressive fire—hitting one or two targets out of six would be considered a success.
Yet, Rast had achieved pinpoint accuracy with this spray-and-pray technique.
Undoubtedly, compared to the cocktail mixing or sculpting skills he had shown earlier… this was the talent that had been refined, honed, and truly engraved within Rast through countless cycles in Deep Blue Harbor.
“There’s no helping it; after all, when it comes to self-entertainment, what could be more thrilling than sniping with all the police in the city and the Royal Navy?”
He rotated the cylinder of his revolver, ejecting the spent cartridges one by one: “The more you sh**t, the more you can develop your skills, even if it’s just tracing shots; you can still become a marksman.”
Rast felt that if it weren’t for his relentless pursuit of new gameplay and styles in Deep Blue Harbor… from RPGs to FPS, from Red Dead Redemption to Grand Theft Auto, and from playing Batman to cosplaying the Joker, he would have probably gone mad in this hopeless cycle long ago.
“So, was that little bit of dark fun also a part of your self-entertainment? Even tricking a dead man?” Hiltina glanced at the fallen cult leader.
This unfortunate soul believed until the end that his cult’s downfall was entirely the fault of Councilman Talis, a person he had never even met.
“That’s not it.”
Rast shook his head: “He is still the leader of this cult organization; in other words, he is a favored one of the Evil God…”
“Although the odds are slim, one can never know when the Evil God might resurrect His favored one.”
“Now, if we pull this off, even if he does come back to life, he won’t immediately come looking for us but will instead find Councilman Talis to settle the score.”
“That sounds like a darker level of fun.”
(End of Chapter)
