Chapter 26: Here Comes Another One
"You... are you an active soldier? A government agent?!" Jong-Kook blurted out before catching himself and realizing how absurd he sounded.
Across the bay, his teammates were practically frothing at the mouth, completely unable to digest the humiliation.
"This is bull! It’s all just luck and gimmicks!" one of the senior regulars shouted from the crowd, stepping forward with veins bulging on his neck. "I demand another match! Different rules, different drills!"
Donape just tilted his head, giving them a lazy, provocative smirk that practically begged them to keep digging their own graves.
Naturally, the situation spiraled into a full-on gauntlet.
What followed was a brutal, one-sided slaughter across every standard marksmanship test in the facility:
The moving dueling trees again.
The rapid hostage-rescue drill that was all about surgical precision versus the seniors’ noisy, destructive cover penetration.
Finally, the "El Presidente" speed-reload challenge, which showcased Donape’s lightning-fast manual cylinder reloads effortlessly outpacing their tactical magazine swaps.
Match after match ended in tragic, overwhelming defeat for the veteran regulars of One Bullet Shooting Range.
Yet despite Donape’s terrifying display of raw talent—dominating every single course with nothing more than a six-shot revolver and a double-barreled sniper rifle—a few of the seniors still clung desperately to their cope.
"No! It doesn’t count!" a senior barked, his face flushed red. "The kid is resorting to cheap tricks and mechanical exploits to win! Null all the matches!"
CLICK.
The heavy steel door to the shooting bay suddenly swung open.
"Alright, that’s enough."
A deep, cultured voice cut through the shouting. An older man with slicked-back, peppered grey hair stepped into the bay, accompanied by the range manager. He carried the rigid posture of a veteran officer and an unmistakable air of cold, aristocratic authority.
It was the owner of the One Bullet Shooting Range—Stygan Zerke, a Britannian.
"I’ve been watching the camera feeds from the front counter since the second match began," Zerke said, his sharp blue eyes sweeping across the red-faced seniors. "And frankly, watching you all make excuses for your own incompetence is far more embarrassing than the defeat itself."
"Director Stygan! You’re here?" Jong-Kook blurted out, immediately standing at attention the moment he recognized the range owner.
Meanwhile, Donape paid no attention to the authority figures entering the bay. He calmly wiped down the revolver and the double-barreled sniper rifle, sliding them back into their respective cases with methodical care.
His primary goal for visiting this place was already complete. Now, he only had one last shooting range left to visit before his System quest was fully cleared.
Truthfully, Donape didn’t care all that much about the free membership. His real prize was sweeping the wager against those arrogant regulars, pocketing a crisp 3,000 BC in cash.
’Man, who knew the range was packed with rich suckers?’ Donape thought, checking his balance. ’Scamming these arrogant snobs might actually be more lucrative than running the VR Cafe.’
Including his previous savings, his account balance now sat at a comfortable 7,710 BC. He was getting dangerously close to the buyout price for that old warehouse—not even accounting for daily operational costs and utilities.
Satisfied, Donape picked up his bags and turned to leave, but Zerke’s group stepped into his path.
"Young man, there’s no need to rush off so quickly," Zerke offered smoothly, motioning toward the lounge. "Care to sit and chat for a moment? We can process your official membership while we talk."
"Indeed," Jong-Kook added, his tone entirely free of his former arrogance. "If you don’t mind sharing... I’d love to know how you built a foundation in marksmanship that refined."
Zerke raised a hand, dismissing the lingering regulars and sending them out with the clerk. Within seconds, only Zerke, Jong-Kook, and three elite officers remained in the bay, creating a relaxed, respectful atmosphere meant to put Donape at ease.
They fully expected the young prodigy to feel flattered.
Donape instantly crushed that expectation.
"Ugh. Honestly? I have zero interest in a membership," Donape sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "No offense, but I don’t have the time to waste coming here every day."
Neither Zerke nor Jong-Kook flared up. They simply assumed that an elite shooter of Donape’s caliber felt a basic commercial range was beneath him.
But Donape’s next words shattered their imaginations entirely.
"I have a shop to run every single day, and my free window is strictly a few hours," Donape explained earnestly. "If I spend any more time shooting guns here, my sleep schedule gets ruined. And if my sleep schedule gets ruined, I’m the one who suffers."
After acquiring Heavenly Martial Arts and master-tier gun skills, Donape wasn’t afraid of human threats like local shooters or range directors. The only entity in this world capable of striking genuine terror into his heart was a rigid, unreasoning System that punished a slacker.
Unless he found a loophole to trick the System, no offer on earth could tempt him to break his daily routine.
Without waiting for them to process his absurd excuse, Donape slinged his gear over his shoulder and strolled toward the exit, leaving the range elites staring at him in utter speechlessness.
Just as his hand touched the heavy steel door, Donape paused, turning back with a bright, shameless business smile.
"Ah, by the way! If you’re genuinely curious about my marksmanship... it all comes from playing VR games at the shop I run," he pitched smoothly, flashing a thumbs-up. "Only 120 BC for activation and 100 BC per five hour of daily playtime. Give it a week, and I guarantee you’ll be good at aiming and shooting just like me!"
With a casual wave, he stepped out, leaving Zerke and others standing in dead silence.
The next day, Donape woke up thoroughly annoyed. Between being out late at the shooting range last night and having to open at seven in the morning, his sleep schedule was completely ruined.
Fortunately, the daily reset had kicked in, restoring his supply of Origins Fountain Water and Spirit-Clearing Dew. A quick sip was all he needed to wipe away the fatigue and gear up for the day.
"Sigh... I probably won’t get to play much myself today."
[Mortal, don’t slack off simply because you cannot play. Your purpose is to serve, not to satisfy yourself. If this establishment fails to expand, you shall taste heavenly punishment from the Great Me.]
Donape stared blankly at the glowing floating text. By now, he was developing a sturdy immunity to the System’s sudden, absurd outbursts.
Of course, while Donape viewed the System as a chaotic, tyrannical pain in the ass, the System also held an equally firm opinion: Donape was, without a doubt, the single worst and most idiotic host in the entire universe.
Two absolute garbage personalities, bound together by destiny. Fate truly had a sick sense of humor.
Shortly after Origins VR Cafe opened its doors, Irene and her friends were the first to walk in.
"Shopkeeper! Did you miss us?" Irene teased, hopping up to the counter. She, Ga-Eun, and Mira had missed the previous day due to an avalanche of college assignments they couldn’t push off.
Donape gave her a deadpan look.
"How’s business?" Irene asked, leaning on the counter, with Ga-Eun and Mira pulling up stools beside her. "Notice a jump in customer traffic?"
"Yeah. But most of them turned tail the second they saw the prices," Donape muttered. "Thanks for the social media shoutout, though."
"In that case, shouldn’t we get a perk? Like extra playtime or a loyalty discount?" Irene chimed playfully.
Donape didn’t answer. He simply wandered around, silently praying for the System to intervene. ’Usually, it’s hyper-fixated on customer satisfaction, but the moment someone asks for a discount, this Tyrannical System never fails to turn a deaf ear.’
Realizing it was a lost cause, he sighed. "Why are you three just sitting there? Aren’t you going to play?"
"Hehe, relax! With fixed time limits for each customer, everyone gets a turn," Ga-Eun chuckled.
Irene signaled with a slight chin-flick toward Mira, prompting her to finally order the drink they had been waiting to try.
"Shopkeeper, Origins Fountain Waters for us, please," Mira said, pulling out her smartphone to scan the payment code.
The price was steep for average patrons, but for them, it was just within reach. Even though Irene and Mira came from well-off, prominent families in the Kingdom of Britannia, their notorious stinginess always made them groan over the high prices. Still, compared to someone like Baek Ji-Hong, their wealth had its limits.
Meanwhile, Ga-Eun was just a middle-class native of the Baek Empire working a part-time job, but her two friends made sure to cover her share anyway whenever they dragged her along.
Just as Donape retrieved three bottles of Origins Fountain Water and set them on the counter, the chime above the entrance room sounded.
A young woman walked in. She had a lean, athletic build, her sharp elegance balanced by the gentle sway of her shoulder-length hair.
’Huh? She looks familiar...’ Donape thought, studying her facial features.
He couldn’t quite place her, but the athletic beauty was none other than Baek Si-Yeon—Baek Ji-Hong’s cousin.
Donape couldn’t connect the dots, as the family resemblance was faint at best.
Before he could even process it, the glass door opened again, revealing an even more commanding presence that spilled into the room like a hallway rolling up to cause trouble.
An elder with tied-back white hair stepped inside, flanked by a squad of sharply dressed bodyguards.
It was none other than Baek Si-Jin—one of the supreme elders of the prestigious Baek Family.
’Huh? Is this another entourage like Baek Ji-Hong’s?! What the hell?!’ Donape thought.