Chapter 62 No need for nonsense.
The recent scene caught everyone off guard. Though the warhorse did not gallop, it left everyone inexplicably stunned.
If one were to believe that the warhorse possessed a spirit and only yielded to heroes, its act of kneeling before Elbert spoke volumes. A warhorse was steered by a hero, and the one it venerated had to be the true son of an emperor.
'Who is this man? How gallant he is! He must be a hero!' They exclaimed inwardly.
Each person present harbored different sentiments. In Lori's heart, the enigma surrounding Elbert deepened. She found herself utterly perplexed as if enveloped in a fog. Once more, she pondered, 'Elbert, who are you truly?'
To Melissa, everything unfolding seemed both logical and exhilarating.
'That is the 'Paul White' I know. No matter how peculiar or astounding the circumstance, if he was involved, victory was assured. He was a figure revered by all.'
Meanwhile, Rex, Ethan, and Aldrich seethed with anger. Elbert had stolen the spotlight at the racetrack, leaving the trio utterly humiliated. Not only had they failed to impress Miss Clark, but they had also suffered a blow to their reputation.
"Aldrich, this Elbert lad is peculiar," Rex muttered through gritted teeth. "Honestly, he bested me in archery before. We're heading to the shooting range later; do you reckon you can outdo him?"
"Archery?" Aldrich chuckled. "I specialize in skeet shooting with a shotgun, targeting high-speed aerial objects. It's a world apart from archery. Even if he excels in archery, it won't matter. This is a game for the affluent, and a lad like him likely hasn't even encountered it."
"Indeed, Aldrich. I refuse to believe he excels in all domains. You must aid us in reclaiming our honor," Ethan asserted, clenching his jaw.
"Agreed," Rex interjected, his eyes glinting coldly. "I'll devise a plan to goad him into a competition with you; the outcome will hinge on your performance."
As they made their way to the shooting range, each individual harbored their own thoughts. The Brown Family estate truly lived up to its reputation as a premier estate, boasting a sprawling lawn dedicated to shooting practice.
Aldrich drew a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and remarked, "I've honed my shooting skills alongside my father since childhood. I commenced hunting in the mountains at the age of 13 and consider myself a proficient marksman."
"In skeet shooting, utilizing two trap machines to launch targets, five shooting positions, and engaging in double-target shooting, I achieved a hit rate of 70 out of 75," Aldrich revealed, eliciting gasps of admiration from onlookers.
Mary and Susan exchanged whispers. "These clay targets dart about erratically, remaining airborne for mere seconds; hitting them is truly challenging."
"I attempted it covertly once and failed to strike a single target. I was so incensed that I nearly hurled the gun," Aldrich confessed, casting a meaningful glance in Elbert's direction. "I've heard of Elbert's prowess in archery, but how will he fare in shotgun shooting?"
Rex interjected, "Indeed, Elbert, with your skill set, why not give it a shot..."
"12-gauge double-barrel shotgun proficiency activated. Ultimate reloading technique engaged. Olympic champion skeet shooting instincts activated. Stylish gun-holding posture initiated. Elbert, I've been enhancing my abilities lately, so I took a brief respite."
"Robert, I have no need for that stylish gun-holding technique, all I need was the shooting skill," Elbert responded with a wry shake of his head.
"Well, I think if you get that holding technique, you'll look a lot cooler."
With a shrug, Elbert sauntered towards the firearms, nonchalantly remarking, "No need for idle chatter; if you seek humiliation, I shall oblige."
"Excellent," Aldrich smirked smugly. "Let's engage two trap machines; you and I shall each have 30 rounds."
"I prefer action over words. I'll take the first shot; save your turn for later," Elbert declared calmly, meticulously arranging the shotgun shells on the table. A total of 70 rounds. With precision, he grasped the double-barrel shotgun, deftly tested the firing mechanism, calibrated the sights, and assessed the trajectory. Each movement exuded expertise, marking him as a seasoned professional.
Nearby, Rex sensed a shift in the atmosphere. Familiarity dawned on him.
Standing tall and proud, Elbert called out to the operator, "Activate all four trap machines, random positions, 70 targets, continuous launch."
"Elbert, have you ever attempted skeet shooting?" Aldrich jeered, "You wield a double-barrel shotgun, not an automatic weapon. With your setup, the targets will scatter, leaving you no time to reload. You won't land a single hit." Aldrich, initially taken aback by Elbert's stance, now erupted into laughter.
Even the operator, at a distance, voiced his skepticism. "Mr. Elbert, are you certain about this? This shooting method is unfamiliar to me."
"Just proceed," Elbert replied tersely. With a click, he swiftly loaded two bullets into the chamber, readying the shotgun.
Compelled by Elbert's resolve, the operator acquiesced. Four targets were launched simultaneously by the trap machines, prompting Elbert to focus intently. With unwavering precision, he took aim.
Indeed, for an ordinary individual, hitting four targets with a double-barrel shotgun capable of holding only two bullets, all within a span of 4 to 5 seconds, would seem insurmountable. Yet, Elbert defied convention.
Robert had meticulously calculated every variable within Elbert's line of sight: distance, wind speed, wind direction, the parabolic trajectory of the targets, and their anticipated descent. Coupled with his unparalleled shooting skills, the impossible became feasible for Elbert.
Without hesitation, he discharged two shots within 0.4 seconds, striking all targets. Elbert deftly opened the shotgun barrel, stomped his right foot, causing two shotgun shells on the nearby table to soar into the air. With seamless precision, he caught the shells mid-air, deftly reloading the firearm. He then embarked on a second round of shooting, once more achieving flawless hits. Astonishingly, all of this transpired within a mere second.
Spectators stood transfixed. The display was nothing short of breathtaking—handsome, swift, precise. Elbert's marksmanship bordered on the divine. As the targets were relaunched, he replicated his lightning-fast actions, hitting each one unerringly.
Aldrich's jaw slackened in disbelief, his astonishment palpable. This lad was no mere mortal.
In a pavilion not far off, three elderly men engrossed in a game of chess were jolted by the thunderous gunfire. The rapid succession of shots froze Jeffrey mid-move.
'Are they engaging in skeet shooting? The unmistakable sound of a 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun echoed in the air.'
'Who could possibly shoot at such a pace? The reloading time had been condensed to a fraction of a second.'
'Twice as fast as my elite soldiers? Unfathomable.'
Everyone's mind was spinning wildly at this unbelievable scene.
Jeffrey's incredulity mounted. Narrowing his eyes, he strained to discern the distant figure clad in a white shirt, relentlessly targeting the airborne objects at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. It was none other than Elbert.
A surge of excitement coursed through Jeffrey. Turning abruptly, he fixed his gaze on Mr. Brown, veins bulging on his forehead, and declared fervently, "Mr. Brown, I vow on my life to emerge victorious in this chess match today."
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