NovelStartChris's cronies are all standing on the left, and Cecelia's the Hurley troops are all standing on the right.
They were all waving their hands to show support.
Such a stance makes Joyce feel overwhelmed with headaches.
Why does it feel like you've been forced into a gladiatorial ring?
She held her forehead. Why was it so childish. She's not a child anymore, but also to compete with people to shoot, there are so
many onlookers.
Instantly, there is a feeling of being in a zoo.
"Don't worry, it's all your own people." Cecelia gently patted Joyce's shoulder and smiled gently.
It doesn't matter what the score is, who wins and who loses in the end.
Being able to compete with Chris was enough to gain the recognition of the whole army. Because she knows very well that Chris is
also a rare marksman in the world.
Chris and Joyce walked to the front of the stage separately. In front of them were air rifles for special training, and headphones, etc.
Right in front, on the big screen, someone has already connected the equipment, clearly showing the current situation.
An average of ten shots per person and the highest total score wins.
Luther walked over to Joyce and encouraged her in the ear, "You're the best, | believe in you."
Joyce glanced at Luther, "Bring the gun stock in my bag, | went to the hardware market on the outskirts of town today and
obtained this gun stock, | didn't expect it to cin handy so soon."
Luther nodded as he turned to the range door, picked up the bag Joyce had just set aside, and retrieved from it the butt of the gun
she had described.
Then he stepped forward and handed the butt of the gun to Joyce.
"It will fit?"
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtJoyce weighed it, "No problem. | had it custom made to fit my hand exactly."
Chris glanced over at Joyce.
He took the initiative to propose, "I'll shoot first. How about after | shoot all ten shots and the total score comes out, you start
shooting again?"
By doing so, he actually kind of phased his opponent in the race. After all, the total score is already out, and the second shooter,
according to the total score, can adjust his state. Will not be in the process, too nervous, or too much pressure, resulting in poor
performance.
"Of course, if you want to shoot all the way through first, that's fine too."
"OK. You first." Joyce kind of accepted Chris's offer.
She smiled coolly, if she had to shoot all ten rounds first, she was afraid Chris would run out of steam on the spot.
"Okay, don't you regret it. | gave you a choice." Chris smiled with a hint of evil in his smile.
He raises the air rifle in his hand.
Aim at the bull's-eye, squint and aim.
"Bang."
"Bang Bang Bang!"
Chris' scores kept popping up on the big screen.
"10.8, 10.9, 10.9, 10.8, 10.9, 10.9, 10.9 ..."
Immediately afterwards, the screen seemed to freeze and Chris' score was fixed at 10.9 and never moved again.
Until all ten shots are finished.
In other words, all but two of Chris’ shots were 10.8, and all but two of his shots were 10.9.
More than a marksman, simply a gun god.
At first the onlookers froze, then Chris's cronies burst into a frenzy of cheers.
"Commander in Chief, Commander in Chief, Commander in Chief!"
"Commander in Chief, Commander in Chief, Commander in Chief!"
"Must win, must win, must win!"
"Must win, must win, must win!"
They shouted loudly and deafeningly.
Chris raised his hand and signaled for them to stop making noise!
A slight hint of smugness crossed his lips, in fact he did not want to get off Joyce's face, just wanted to show himself in front of
Joyce, who had just met by chance in the hardware market with a disdainful look on her face.
He especially wanted her to know how good he was.
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