Chapter 24: The Fine Art of Bullshitting
"Boss, how come your aim keeps getting more and more flawless? And with handguns and snipers, no less?" Ji-Hong asked through a private voice channel.
His VR Capsule account was already on Donape’s friends list, allowing him to message the shopkeeper anytime—even while playing a completely different game.
"Well..." Donape dragged out his voice casually. "That’s probably because my synchronization rate is higher than yours."
"Is that why you adapt in-game skills to the real world so quickly, Boss?" Ji-Hong asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.
Over the past few days, Ji-Hong had come to realize just how crucial VR synchronization really was.
Take A-Ji and Ji-Ga, for instance. Despite starting The Path of Heavenly Martial Arts later than him, they were already executing moves far more fluently. All because of a mere 1–3% higher sync rate combined with their solid martial arts foundation, allowing them to catch up and surpass him in record time.
Still, Ji-Hong held his own advantages as an early bird. The stat boosts and quest rewards he’d accumulated put him slightly ahead in Qi Perception.
Now, whenever he watched Donape move with that effortless speed—like the time he caught Irene’s falling smartphone by swiping at the surrounding air—Ji-Hong could actually catch a faint glimpse of the energy flow involved. He was nowhere near true mastery or vivid perception yet, but it was enough to leave him in awe.
"Ah, right. What’s your actual plan, anyway? Taking your subordinates to play Heavenly Martial Arts every single day?" Donape asked, aiming for casual small talk. He truly couldn’t wrap his head around how rich kids operated, especially when Ji-Hong burned over 1,500 BC a day without batting an eye.
"Hehe! Boss, you won’t believe it, but I’m building the most powerful bodyguard force in the entire world!" Ji-Hong bragged cheerfully. "An unstoppable squad that can deflect bullets with their bare hands!"
Without waiting for a response, Ji-Hong excitedly continued his rambling.
"Boss, before your shop showed up, superpowers and supernatural martial arts were just fictional entertainment. Now? Everything’s changed! It’s only a matter of time before my bodyguards and I fully awaken our martial potential. I’m going to shatter the myths and show my family what I’m truly capable of!"
"Ehm... that’s quite the grand plan. Well, good luck with that," Donape encouraged warmly—completely unaware that Ji-Hong’s grand speech was merely the opening Chapter of a massive headache waiting for him in the near future.
Having grown familiar and comfortable with handguns and snipers inside the game, Donape now needed to bring that muscle memory into the real world. His quest demanded real-life range practice—and defeating the club’s members to top it off.
Unfortunately, the System manual firmly forbade leaving the shop unattended or closing early. He had no choice but to wait until official closing hours before heading out.
When night finally fell, Donape tossed on casual clothes beneath a long coat, pulling down a simple hat and sliding on a face mask. He looked every bit like a suspicious, trench-coated assassin out of a B-movie, but it was the best he could do on short notice.
Arriving at his destination, he looked up at the glowing storefront sign: One Bullet.
Stepping through the heavy front doors, Donape was immediately met with an inspecting gaze from the attendant behind the counter.
Despite the sharp security presence, the establishment resembled a high-end luxury lounge—complete with crisp air-conditioning, polished wooden floors, and illuminated glass display cases showcasing various firearms.
Because the Baek Empire strictly prohibited individual gun ownership, these display pieces were purely for customer selection to use exclusively on the range premises. Not for sale!
"Welcome. How can I help you tonight?" the clerk asked professionally, expertly keeping his composure despite Donape’s incredibly shady outfit.
Donape offered a brief, hidden smile under his mask as he strolled to the counter, casually eyeing the weaponry on display. "Do I need a full membership to use the shooting bays, or can I just register as a guest?"
"A simple ID registration is enough for basic access," the clerk replied politely. "However, becoming a full member comes with significant privileges."
He slid a sleek brochure across the counter. Printed on it was a dense list of perks:
[Shooting Range: One Bullet — Member Benefits]
- Discounted Rates & Ammo Packages
- Priority Lane Reservations
- Extended Shooting Sessions
- Official Gun Licensing & Vault Sponsorship
- Private Locker Vault Access
- Exclusive Access to Tactical & Long-Range Bays
- Complimentary Guest Passes & Safety Gear
- Professional Coaching & Certification
’Phew... what a ridiculously long list,’ Donape cursed inwardly, his head spinning.
Before being forced to fuse with the System, he had been nothing more than an unemployed nobody with zero military knowledge. Seeing a corporate-level essay of tactical firearm jargon dropped in front of him made him want to walk right back out the door.
"I’ll pass on the membership," Donape said, pushing the brochure back. "Just give me the standard access for handguns and sniper rifles."
Once the registration was complete, the clerk led Donape through a heavy, soundproof door into a prep room.
A stern Range Safety Officer or RSO took over from there. Before letting Donape touch live ammunition, the officer ran through a mandatory safety briefing, detailing basic gun handling and emergency protocols.
Donape then took off his long coat, hat, and face mask, swapping them for required safety glasses and oversized earmuffs.
After gearing up, the RSO escorted him through a final set of heavy sound-trap doors and into the main indoor firing bay.
As a casual guest, Donape didn’t have access to the exclusive outdoor lanes, leaving him in the standard indoor range—which was far busier than he had anticipated.
The officer led him to an open stall, setting a hard plastic gun case on the shooting bench and another on the floor below. With a professional nod, he unlocked the top case, revealing the six-shot revolver alongside its ammunition, before stepping back to give Donape room.
The moment Donape lifted the heavy, brushed-steel revolver from its foam padding, the atmosphere in the adjacent stalls shifted. Through the transparent glass partitions, several nearby shooters turned their heads, rolling their eyes at the sight of the weapon.
"Hey, brat," a man in the next lane scoffed, eyeing Donape’s plain clothes and old-school choice of firearm. "This is a real shooting range, not a movie set. You’re going to embarrass yourself trying to look cool with a revolver."
Ignoring the man’s taunt, Donape took the ammunition from the officer. Without waiting for instructions, his hands moved in a fluid, terrifyingly practiced motion born from hundreds of VR practices.
Click-snap.
Six heavy rounds dropped into the cylinder, and the frame snapped shut with a cold metallic CLACK.
The man in the next stall was still sneering. "Look at this brat, trying to show off—"
"Set the target," Donape said coldly, cutting off the man mid-mockery.
The RSO stepped up to the digital control panel beside the booth, tapping the touchscreen. "First time here, right? I’ll set you at ten meters to start—"
"Put it at maximum," Donape cut in smoothly.
The officer raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smirk playing on his lips. "Maximum? That’s twenty-five meters. Most experienced shooters don’t even—"
"Maximum."
Shrugging, the RSO punched in the command. The overhead rail whined as the paper target zipped all the way down the long, dim indoor lane, locking into place at the absolute furthest wall.
"What a fool!" the mocker laughed. "Setting it all the way back—"
Donape didn’t let him finish.
He didn’t take a standard stance. He didn’t adjust his grip. He didn’t even pause to aim down the iron sights.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Six thunderous roars echoed through the indoor bay in less than two seconds, sending hot brass smoke billowing into the air.
The mockers instinctively winced from the sudden noise, fully expecting the rookie to miss or send his shots flying into the ceiling from the violent recoil. But when they looked down at the far end of the lane, the air in the room instantly went dead silent.
Right in the center of the target’s black bullseye was a single, clean, torn hole. All six bullets had passed through the same spot.
The snobbish shooters who had just called him a brat and a fool stood completely frozen, their mouths hanging wide open.
"Does everyone here shoot with their mouths?"
Donape turned to taunt them back, casually setting the heavy steel revolver down on the shooting bench.
His sharp words and calm posture were impossible for the proud range regulars to ignore. Even the officer shook his head at the blatant provocation.
Shaking off their initial shock, the crowd’s faces darkened into furious, solemn glares.
"Hey, brat. Mind your tongue," one of them sneered. "A newbie like you doesn’t know a damn thing about real marksmanship."
"Don’t get arrogant over a lucky bullseye!" another shouted.
Ignoring their shouting, Donape reached under the table, pulled up the second hard case, and popped the locks open.
Inside rested a rare, high-tech sniper rifle with an aggressive over-under break-action design. Unlike standard bolt-action rifles, this monster featured twin stacked barrels. A single flick of the thumb lever broke the rifle open at the middle with a satisfying metallic CLACK, allowing two massive sniper cartridges to be loaded side-by-side. It sacrificed magazine capacity for raw, devastating two-shot lethality.
Lifting the twin-barreled rifle, Donape offered a cold smirk.
"How about a bet then? Set whatever challenge or rules you want. I’ll stick strictly to these two weapons—and take on all of you."
A vein popped on the senior shooter’s forehead. "What did you say?!"