John Wick - Chapter 77: The Effects of 50% Firearm Proficiency (Patreon)

Nate’s gun held fifteen rounds, while John’s held nineteen.

To keep things fair, John removed his magazine and took out four rounds.

Both men set their magazines on the table, holstered their guns, and let their hands hang at their sides.

William stopped practicing with his throwing knives and came over to watch.

Nate and John exchanged a knowing glance. Almost simultaneously, they drew their guns, slammed in their magazines, racked the slides, and pulled the triggers.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Twenty meters was considered a standard engagement distance for a pistol.

The AREX in John’s hands had a crisp trigger and quick reset. He finished all fifteen rounds nearly two seconds ahead of Nate.

Once both were done, the electronic scoring system displayed the results.

John: 148 points.

Nate: 143 points.

Nate pulled off his ear protection. “The trigger on your gun is way too mushy. This round doesn’t count!”

“Don’t be a sore loser. I’ve used that gun for a long time. There’s nothing wrong with it. You just have to get used to it.”

John’s tone remained calm, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at the young man.

John might not have thought much of it, but William, who had been watching from the side, certainly did.

The burly bald man stared at Nate in disbelief. “Mr. Lin, it’s only been a few days. How are you already shooting like this?!”

As far as William remembered, the last time Nate had come here, he could still miss a target at ten meters. Now, only a few days later, he was already able to go head-to-head with John?

Nate waved dismissively. “You flatter me.”

Then he turned to John. “Another round?”

“Let’s do it.”

They put their ear protection back on and loaded fresh magazines.

William noticed that Nate’s reload was just a fraction faster than John’s.

Thirty meters.

For a pistol, that was already a very difficult distance.

A dense burst of gunfire erupted.

Nate finished about two seconds later than John, but his firing rhythm remained remarkably steady.

This time, he paid close attention to how the pistol felt as he fired.

Besides that familiar sensation that told him he could hit even without deliberately aiming, he also noticed that the recoil felt unusually gentle in his hands.

Was it because this gun had a muzzle brake?

He wasn’t sure. He would have to keep shooting and find out.

The two removed their magazines.

The scores appeared.

John: 142 points.

Nate: 143 points.

Nate grinned. “Well? What do you have to say about this round?”

John looked at the eight-ring shot near the outside of his target. “You won. One more round.”

“No, I haven’t won yet. I was quite a bit slower than you,” Nate said.

“Then let’s go again!”

They loaded up once more.

Their competitive streaks had thoroughly kicked in.

Forty meters.

For a pistol, that was almost the limit of practical aimed fire.

John slowed his pace, taking time to reacquire his sights after every shot.

Nate’s rhythm barely changed. His gun remained steady, and he fired whenever his instincts told him the moment was right.

Every shot landed within the eight-ring.

This time, he even finished slightly faster than John.

The scores appeared.

John: 128 points.

Nate: 135 points.

John lowered his gun and fell silent for two seconds.

Nate sidled over with a smug grin. “Come on, John. Admit it. Heh, admit you lost.”

“Admit what? You lost at twenty meters.”

“You lost by more at forty.”

“I was faster than you at thirty.”

“But I was more accurate.”

“What good is accuracy if you’re too slow to shoot?”

“…………”

The two kept bickering, neither willing to concede.

William finally burst out laughing from the sidelines. This was the first time he had ever seen John act like this.

The two continued their “rational discussion” for a while longer.

Then Nate suddenly had an idea.

He picked up the rounds John had removed earlier, loaded them into a magazine, and chambered a round.

“Still shooting, Mr. Lin? Want me to get you some more ammo?” William asked.

“No, I just want to test something.”

John looked over.

Nate set the target to twenty meters.

He raised the pistol in one hand.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three shots in rapid succession.

The score came up at 28 points. One ten-ring and two nine-rings.

“This gun really does have low recoil. Shooting it one-handed takes no effort at all.”

As he spoke, Nate looked at the gun in John’s hand.

John immediately understood. He loaded it for Nate and handed it over.

This time, Nate switched to his left hand.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Another three shots.

Twenty-seven points.

All three landed in the nine-ring.

John’s expression changed.

Shock filled his eyes, and William looked no less stunned.

Nate studied the AREX in his hand.

This gun did not even have a muzzle brake, yet the recoil still felt surprisingly mild.

Something wasn’t right.

So this was what Firearm Proficiency actually did?

It reduced recoil to a certain extent, and it also gave him that strange feeling that let him hit without really aiming.

Then didn’t that mean...

Nate hurriedly loaded three rounds into each pistol, took one in each hand, and began firing them alternately.

This time, he genuinely did not aim.

How was he supposed to aim properly with two guns anyway?

He relied entirely on instinct.

All six rounds were fired.

The scoring system displayed 50 points.

Two nine-rings and four eight-rings.

The score itself was nothing special, but he had not aimed at all!

The corner of John’s eye twitched.

William’s jaw practically dropped.

“Mr. Lin, you really are a fucking freak,” William said, his voice rising as he stared at the target.

Nate waved him off. “Come on, it’s nothing. I’ve seen plenty of people shoot like this.”

“Who?” John asked.

“Lara Croft and Max Payne are probably the two most famous. There are plenty of others, but I can’t remember their names.”

“They’re really that good?” John asked skeptically.

John was an expert marksman himself, but even he couldn’t guarantee his accuracy while shooting like that.

“By the way,” John said, “if both your hands are occupied, how are you supposed to reload?”

“Huh?”

Nate paused.

“Oh. Good point.”

He tried it.

It really was difficult.

Inserting a magazine and racking the slide were both awkward, and if he wanted to reload after emptying one, he would have to drop the spent magazine on the floor.

After all, he was not some superhero from a video game who could move a gun off-screen, spin it around once, and somehow come back fully reloaded.

Still, none of that was much of a problem for Nate.

He had his system Backpack.

Reload?

Why bother reloading?

Just switch guns!

He needed to put a few more pistols in his Backpack.

There was already a pile of them sitting in the corner of his living room. He would have to pick out a few when he got back.

“Wait a second. We’ve already gone through several rounds. Why hasn’t the Sommelier brought those guns down yet?”

At that exact moment, Miss Jennifer, who was still rummaging through cabinets and drawers for ammunition and magazines, suddenly sneezed for no apparent reason.

“Grrrgle~~”

Nate’s stomach growled.

“Huh? John, you hungry?”

John rubbed his stomach. “Actually... yeah, a little.”

It was already past six in the evening.

The two of them had eaten breakfast that morning and nothing else since.

“What should we eat?” John asked.

“Yeah. What should we eat?”

Nate thought for a moment. “Let’s just go check out the restaurant first. Come on.”

After saying goodbye to William, the two walked side by side toward the upper floor.

At that very moment, a report concerning the two of them had already been delivered into the hands of an Italian mafia member dressed in a custom-tailored blue suit.