Chapter 34: Physics Has Left the Chat
The automatic glass doors of Point Blank Shooting Range slid open with a quiet hum. Unlike typical noisy ranges, the lobby here was built with thick acoustic paneling and sleek, climate-controlled glass display cases holding high-end competition firearms—a clear sign of a high-tier facility catering to S-City’s elite.
Donape stepped in first, adjusting his simple casual jacket. Flanking him were Jong-Kook and Zerke—two imposing figures whose disciplined postures and sharp, sweeping gazes made them stand out instantly.
"So this is where you plan to test your skills tonight?" Jong-Kook asked, looking around the pristine facility with a grin.
"Point Blank is a step up from One Bullet," Zerke added, pulling out his smartphone. "The members here come from renowned families and competitive backgrounds. They won’t be as easy to impress as the crowd at my place last Monday."
Donape didn’t pay much mind to the warning. His eyes were fixed on the glowing blue interface floating in his vision.
[Novice Quest: Time to Show Off]
Objective: Demonstrate your marksmanship skills in the real world so humanity realizes the VR Capsule can turn anyone into an expert! Defeat every registered shooter on the leaderboards at two local ranges.
(Progress: 1/2 Ranges Cleared)
’One more range to go for the quest rewards,’ Donape thought, remaining completely unfazed. "Don’t worry. It’s no different than playing Counter-Injustice."
Jong-Kook and Zerke exchanged amused, expectant glances. While challenging the top scores of a high-end range like Point Blank was bold, both were eager to see if Donape’s terrifying precision in the VR game would truly hold up in reality.
Approaching the VIP counter, Zerke scanned his digital VIP badge.
"Welcome back, Director Stygan," the clerk greeted politely, scanning the screen. "Vouching for two guests for the outdoor long-range venue tonight?"
"Yes," Zerke replied smoothly. "Set us up in the main outdoor booth."
Passing through security into the outdoor lounge, the sharp, rhythmic thunder of high-caliber rifles echoed through the air. Over near the spectator seats, the same group of senior shooters who had been scoffing at the "Alexa" rumors caught sight of the group.
"Look over there," the younger shooter whispered, nudging the veteran beside him. "Isn’t that Director Stygan from One Bullet? What’s he doing here on a Saturday night?"
The senior veteran took a slow sip of his drink, his skeptical gaze sweeping over Donape, who was calmly putting on his eye protection and oversized earmuffs.
"Who knows?" the senior grunted, turning back to his rifle case. "Probably brought some rich kid relative to try high-end stuff. Let them be—they aren’t worth our time."
Unbothered by the chatter, Donape stepped into his designated lane, resting his hands on the firing bench.
Because Zerke had checked them in using his elite Director pass, the range safety officer opened the VIP armory display on a tablet, allowing Donape to select whichever long-range weapons he preferred for his session.
Donape scanned the digital menu. His eyes bypassed the heavy custom bolt-action rifles and settled on two distinct assault rifles resting on velvet-lined mounts in the preview photos.
The first was a suppressed, sleek black carbine with a compact frame, engineered for rapid fire and recoil control—the real-world inspiration for the Phantom.
Right beside it rested a rugged, high-caliber rifle with a heavier barrel and an aggressive receiver design, built for raw stopping power and lethal single-tap precision—the physical counterpart to the Vandal.
"You’re going with assault rifles for the long-range outdoor lanes?" Zerke asked, raising an eyebrow as Donape selected the two weapons on the screen. "Most people targeting the upper leaderboards out here use specialized benchrest rifles or heavy snipers. At two hundred meters and beyond, bullet drop and recoil on standard service rifles will punish even minor errors."
"I’m used to these," Donape replied simply.
Not long after the order was placed, the officer arrived carrying two heavy rifle cases and handed them over to Donape.
Donape unlatched the first case and lifted the Vandal counterpart.
He checked the chamber, felt the weight of the receiver, and dry-fired it once downrange. The mechanical click was crisp.
In Counter-Injustice, the Vandal was a high-risk, high-reward weapon: brutal recoil, but a single clean headshot meant an instant kill regardless of armor.
Next, he picked up the suppressed Phantom. It felt lighter, perfectly balanced for rapid target switching and tight bullet grouping.
"Going to test both?" Jong-Kook asked, folding his arms with an intrigued smile. "In the game, you switch between weapons seamlessly. But real recoil and barrel heat are entirely different beasts."
"They feel almost identical to the VR models," Donape murmured, adjusting the fire selector switch.
Over in the spectator area, the group of senior shooters watched Donape unveil the rifles on the firing bench.
"Is that kid really taking a suppressed carbine and an AK-variant onto the long-range lane?" the younger shooter scoffed, shaking his head. "Is he planning to spray and pray at two hundred meters? What a waste of lane time."
"What are Director Stygan and Kim Jong-Kook doing letting that kid casually choose weapons like that?" another added.
"Told you, just an amateur trying to look cool," the senior veteran grunted, adjusting his spotting scope toward the distant digital targets. "Let him embarrass himself."
Unfazed by the whispering behind him, Donape loaded a fresh magazine into the Vandal and pulled back the charging handle with a sharp clack.
The target distance was set to 50 meters, with the leaderboard record to beat sitting at a 98.4% Precision Score.
Donape leaned into the stock, aligned his iron sights with the red center of the distant target, and took a slow, steady breath.
As the signal light turned green, Donape pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Ratatatatat!
Clack!
In three short seconds, all 25 rounds were gone, and the empty magazine dropped cleanly onto the bench.
Everyone present froze, completely dumbfounded by what they had just witnessed.
Only one thought raced through their minds: What kind of idiot dumps a full magazine on a target in the middle of the night?!
Even Zerke and Jong-Kook, who knew Donape’s skills, were flustered. They had expected calculated semi-automatic taps, not a full-auto barrage.
"Hah! Brat, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!" one of the Point Blank members in the lounge sneered.
"Hey, Director Stygan! What kind of idiot did you bring over here?!" another shouted, standing up. "Keep him at your own range! Why bring him here to ruin our mood?!"
"Point Blank isn’t a playground for amateurs," declared Jin Do-Jun, stepping forward from the VIP seating area.
Jin Do-Jun hailed from the renowned Jin Family—one of the three dominant houses alongside the Baek and Nam families that controlled S City’s major industries and maintained order alongside the government.
"Get out of here now, and don’t bother coming back," Do-Jun added coldly.
Troubled, Zerke immediately raised his hands, preparing to apologize and de-escalate the situation before it turned into a diplomatic nightmare with the Jin Family.
He stopped, however, when Donape calmly tapped the bench console. "Display target results."
The overhead digital monitors chimed, updating the live lane metrics for the entire range to see:
[Lane 4 Target Metrics]
Distance: 50 Meters
Shots Fired: 25 / 25
Precision Score: 99.1%
New Record Established!
Silence fell over the lounge like a heavy curtain.
All 25 high-caliber rounds were clustered tightly in the absolute center of the red mark. Despite the full-auto burst, zero bullet stray was detected. To make it even more absurd, the Vandal had no high-magnification scope—only standard iron sights—beating out scores set by shooters using specialized sniper rifles and Operator setups at that range.
Without using a heavy sniper, he had just shattered the range’s 50-meter record in under three seconds.
Do-Jun glared at the range officer. "Is there an error with the sensors? Check the platform!"
The officer quickly ran a manual diagnostic on the digital targets, but the interface remained green. "The system is fully functional, Mr. Jin. No mechanical or optical errors detected."
"Impossible! The software has to be damaged!" a middle-aged senior shouted desperately from the lounge. "No one dumps a twenty-five-round burst at night with iron sights and gets ninety-nine percent accuracy! Check it again!"
Hearing the pathetic excuses, Do-Jun gritted his teeth, his face darkening. "Enough! Stop acting like a bunch of panicked country bumpkins!" he snapped back, despising the unsightly scene his members were making.
Meanwhile, Zerke and Jong-Kook stepped closer to Donape, their faces pictures of complete shock.
"How on earth did you do that?" Jong-Kook asked, visibly bewildered. "How did you completely negate the recoil?"
Donape tilted his head slightly. "It’s simple. You just hold the rifle firm enough to stop it from shaking."
"Simple?!" Zerke scoffed in disbelief. "No human can lock down a full-auto assault rifle against raw physics through pure grip strength."
"I didn’t use brute force—I used gentleness," Donape explained casually. "Using the principles of Heavenly Martial Arts, every time recoil forces the barrel up, I immediately guide the weapon back to its precise starting position."
"What did you just say?" Zerke asked, blinking as if his ears were deceiving him.
"You... used martial arts to counteract full-auto recoil?!" Jong-Kook yelled in a harsh whisper, unable to contain his shock. "What kind of insane application is that?!"
Donape blinked, looking genuinely puzzled by their reaction.
"Why? Is martial arts not allowed in shooting?"