"This is today's milk... Well, I'll leave it to you..." Perhaps because he had never been addressed in such a formal tone by a young girl before, the young man's face flushed red. He didn't even dare to touch the girl's fingers that were stretched out to take the bottle of milk. He forced his way around her and stuffed the two glass bottles of milk into her basket, then rode away on his bike. With a slight smile on his lips, Hitzfeld watched him disappear completely before he started to rush towards Caishikou. Glee's home is at No. 12, Flo Street. After crossing the street and turning right, the first intersection is the Jinzhu Carriage Shop where she had just been not long ago. Walk about 150 meters forward and turn a corner. There is an alley, which is the so-called vegetable market. On the way, she met Dr. Griman again. He stopped the girl and asked her how her recovery was going, but she evaded the question using the excuse her lady had taught her. "Miss Hitzfeld!" At the door of the car dealership, the driver Joseph was holding a scone, holding the boy Joey on his knees and stuffing it into his mouth. When he saw the girl, he immediately dropped the boy and waved vigorously in this direction. "I heard everything! Oh my God...may the goddess bless you and your wife!" "Miss Hitzfeld?" "That's Miss Hitzfeld..."
"I heard from Detective Mike that she was attacked by a nightmare at home, and she killed the monster without any injuries..." "It's incredible..." "Madam has indeed chosen a good heir." There is a mixed crowd at the entrance of the coach shop, and the idle drivers' favorite thing to do is to share interesting stories they have heard from all over the world. The principle is probably similar to why taxi drivers in every city are always talkative. Hitzfeld's "glorious record" cannot be hidden from them at all. Many drivers jumped off their carriages and tipped their hats to greet her. For these low-class people, this is the only way they know how to express respect. Hitzfeld nodded in response to them one by one, and only after turning into the vegetable market did his face fall, realizing how difficult it was to be a celebrity. But her ordeal was not over yet. No matter which world, men are no more gossipy than women. After experiencing the enthusiasm of the men at the car dealership, the girl is about to face the women in the vegetable market. By the time she got home, she had shed her skin. The basket is filled with responsibilities. She bought almost three days' supply in one go. This was also something that Mrs. Glee had specifically instructed. Because tomorrow is Saturday. And the day after tomorrow is the seventh day. …… "Put the notebook away." After breakfast and rest, Mrs. Gleit said this in the study at 10 o'clock in the morning.
"We don't need any of that today." "?" Hitzfeld physically obeyed, but she raised her eyebrows and stared at the lady, expressing her confusion with her expression. "And the Plankton, do you still have it?" "of course." After hesitating for a moment, Hitzfeld reached under the table, lifted her skirt, and pulled out a shiny silver pistol. She made herself a simple holster out of discarded cloth and leather, which she usually tied around her thigh to carry the life-saving pistol with her at all times. Even though it was now out of bullets, she still wanted to do it. ...Otherwise, she really couldn't figure out what a powerless girl like her could do to gain more sense of security. "I didn't give you the bullet before, not because I didn't want you to use it, but because I wanted to confirm your qualifications." Seeing that Hitzfeld always carried a gun with him, Mrs. Glee narrowed her eyes and gave a rare approving smile. "Now it looks like you're ready." "Today we're going to the yard." "Teach you how to use a gun." Chapter 12 Talent shooting training. It's not that surprising. Judging from the fact that the coachman Joseph also has a pistol, firearms are not rare here. Considering that the seventh day is approaching, it is reasonable for the lady to train her to enhance her self-defense ability. To be honest, as he walked through the unlit corridor toward the backyard, Hitzfeld had imagined whether Mrs. Glee would drag out a large wooden box filled with munitions when it was opened. This is not impossible. Nowadays, people have things like sockets in their homes, so they should also have things like automatic rifles, submachine guns, and machine guns. But the reality still disappointed her. Mrs. Gree did take out five firearms, but without exception, they were all pistols. The first one is a revolver with a wooden stock and a silver-gray gun body. The second, third and fourth ones are similar to the Plankton style, the difference is that the eyes are deeper and one of them is pure black. The fifth was the gun she had held when she came to "rescue" Hitzfeld that night. It was another Plankton, exactly the same as the one the girl was holding now. "Come here." Mrs. Gree said to the girl in a commanding tone, "Choose the one that you are most comfortable with among all these guns." "…What's the difference?" Hitzfeld muttered, but still came over and did it. "It doesn't make much difference to most people, but it's very meaningful to you." Madam explained while she was testing the gun, "Because your hands are smaller than those of ordinary people and your strength is much weaker, a suitable pistol should be able to increase your close-range hit rate by 30%." Will there be so many?
Hitzfeld was a little unconvinced. She put down a gun, raised her right hand and looked at it carefully. She found that it was small, but her fingers were slender and long, so there was absolutely no problem holding the gun handle and pulling the trigger. Strength is indeed a hidden danger, which is probably a congenital defect that cannot be solved - after all, girls are just not strong enough. “I decided to take this one.” After choosing for a long time, she made a decision. She still wanted the one called the Plank. The first reason was, of course, that it fit her hand very well. She felt as if she was fitting into something tightly and naturally when she held the gun. The second reason was that it had saved her life, so she subconsciously had a favorable impression of it. "Here are the bullets." The lady brought out a small wooden box from the side, took out a paper box from it and handed it to the girl, "Try to load the bullets yourself, and then shoot at that thing." Following the direction of her finger, Leng Qing saw the "ugly bungalow" standing in the weeds. That was the only building in the backyard. The dark grey tiles on the walls were covered with moss. Judging from the height of the weeds in front of the gate, no one had been there for at least four or five years. "If the bullet misses, won't it hurt someone else?" Hitzfeld was a little uneasy. "No." The lady crossed her arms, "This place is close to the suburbs. There are no other houses behind the wall of this yard. After passing through a small forest, there are only farmlands." "farmland?" "Of course, where do you think the food you eat every day comes from?" "..." Hitzfeld discovered that when this person was more like an ordinary person, her mouth was really mean. Pulling out the magazine, taking bullets from the box and loading them, the girl frowned in surprise. Ten. She stuffed a total of ten bullets in there. But that day at Nightmare...it seemed like she only fired six or seven shots in total, and it was certain that there was no bullet in the gun. Wasn't it filled to begin with? I want to weigh the pistol and try it out. But she was no expert and couldn't tell any difference in the weight. Let’s just ignore it for now. With a cold look in her eyes, the gray-haired girl suddenly raised her arm, with the barrel of the gun, her arm and her eyes in a straight line, and without thinking, she pulled the trigger at the distant target. "Bang bang bang bang..." A continuous sound, like the sound of frying beans, rang out on the ground. After a thin cloud of smoke dissipated, Hitzfeld couldn't help but feel a little amused. The wooden door panel in front of the bungalow was painted white. At this moment, there were only three bullet holes on it, and no one knew where the others had gone. She estimated that the distance from here to the bungalow was less than 20 meters. At this distance, with such a large target, if she could hit three out of ten bullets, her hit rate would be 30%... It's really too low to look at. "Not bad." To her surprise, Mrs. Glee actually showed an approving expression.
"Don't overestimate your ability... You were able to hit the target with those six bullets because you put the muzzle of the gun in its mouth. But don't underestimate yourself. For a layman - your posture is wrong and you are not prepared for the recoil - this is already good enough." So I am quite talented, right? The girl felt a little better. But in the subsequent teaching process, she was criticized by Mrs. Glee for almost nothing. "Keep your arms up high and don't tense your elbows so much!" "With your posture, if you switch to a pistol with stronger recoil, your arm will be broken with the first shot." "Also, you don't have much strength to begin with, so why do you insist on holding the gun with one hand? Is it because you think it's cool? Or is your brain just not right?" Shooting is a very tiring thing. The pistol was not light... Holding it was a physical job for her. Plus, keeping aiming also required a lot of energy. This scolding made her sweat all over, and her hands were shaking when she finished. The lady adjusted her posture, and then asked her to keep aiming and shooting. The hit rate increased from 30% to nearly 70% in the middle period, but as her concentration and physical strength continued to decline, it quickly fell below 40%. "This performance can't be considered as any talent..." Mrs. Greer looked disappointed. Hitzfeld was also unhappy with his performance. After all, there’s not even a standard circular target on the door panel, the requirement is just to hit the target within 20 meters. With such a large target and such a close distance, if one is extremely talented, a 100% hit rate is not an exaggeration. With an idea in mind, she tried to move the blindfold and opened it a tiny gap. Through this slit, her left eye can also participate in "aiming". Would it have any unusual powers? With a certain mentality, the girl raised the gun again, holding the handle with her right hand, and holding the base with her left hand, and once again emptied the replenished bullets. "Ok?" Mrs. Glee's eyebrows moved. This time, the girl's movements and postures were impeccable. The dancing skirt, the jumping hair, the tightly pursed lips, the determined eyes... all convey a powerful aura. Instinctively, she had a feeling that the girl would do very well this time. But when she looked at the door panel, she couldn't help but widen her eyes. There were still as many bullet holes as before - since there were only a few bullets in the book, she was sure she could remember their locations. All ten bullets missed the target?
The girl was dumbfounded. She stared and even lifted her blindfold to take a closer look to make sure there were no new bullet holes. "It seems that you are not a quick learner." Mrs. Glee said sarcastically from the side. "The hit rate at this distance is 0%..." “In a sense, this is also a talent.”