Lord of Mysteries:The Good Witch

Angel followed the familiar Klein Moretti to 3 Zotlan Street after leaving Black Thorn Security Company. It was a low-rise building with a weathered facade, displaying a plaque that read "Zotlan Shooting Club."

The shooting range, owned by the Tingen City Police Department, was located underground. It was twice the size of the above-ground structure, serving both police for regular practice and civilians for recreational shooting, with admission fees subsidizing public use.

Angel presented her newly acquired police badge to the receptionist, identifying herself.

The attendant led them to the spacious basement. Opposite the stairs was a luxurious lounge with multiple gas lamps and complimentary refreshments. At the other end, a corridor led to the shooting range, divided into several small rooms. Some were already marked as "In Use," with occasional gunshots echoing from within.

They chose the innermost vacant room. After the attendant set up the targets and left, they placed their ammunition boxes on the table beside the shooting positions.

"Ladies first?" Klein offered, loading his revolver bullet by bullet and snapping the cylinder shut.

"You go ahead. I need to familiarize myself with the new gun," Angel politely declined, intending to get accustomed to her new revolver's weight and feel before wasting ammunition.

Klein nodded, gripped the gun with both hands, slightly parted his legs, and assumed a slightly bent posture. He extended his arms, aiming at the target 15 meters away.

Angel mentally noted his stance as conventional but lacking finesse.

"Bang!"

As the shot rang out, Angel's enhanced vision easily spotted the bullet hole on the target—8 rings.

Instead of firing again immediately, Klein reholstered his gun. After a few seconds, he swiftly drew from his shoulder holster, aimed with one hand, and fired rapidly.

After the shot, Angel looked closely—still 8 rings.

Wait... that was the previous shot's location.

Did he miss?

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Klein glanced at Angel before resuming his two-handed aiming stance. He continued firing until he emptied the cylinder.

The remaining shots didn't miss, maintaining 7-8 ring scores. This seemed to be his usual practice stance—standard but somewhat rigid.

Angel then took out her new revolver from Old Neil. She first held the gun in each hand, trying various poses to feel its weight, dry-fired to test the trigger pull and travel, and then began loading.

As Klein sat massaging his arm muscles after two rounds, she took her position, standing sideways with both hands on the gun, and began aiming and firing.

Unlike Klein's frontal stance with legs apart and arms extended for maximum stability and accuracy, Angel used a stance designed for close-quarter combat.

Her right elbow was bent, holding the gun tilted at chest level. Her left elbow was raised and pressed forward, palm gripping her right hand. Both hands fixed the gun near her body's central axis. Instead of using three-point alignment, she relied on gun feel to roughly aim at the target before firing.

Bang, bang, bang—

After five consecutive shots, Angel made subtle adjustments to her grip based on bullet impacts, emptying the cylinder in one go.

She swung open the cylinder, pressed the ejector rod to remove the still-smoking casings, and then looked at the target to assess her performance.

Only the last of the five shots hit the 10-ring, with the rest clustered around the 8-ring near the center. For a new, unfamiliar gun, it was an impressive result.

Reloading five rounds, she now held the gun single-handed at waist level, firing rapidly at the target without aiming.

The large-caliber rounds' recoil caused the revolver to sway in her single-handed grip.Even with Angel's physical fitness strengthened by the potion, , maintaining stability was challenging. This shooting method proved far less accurate than before, with bullet holes randomly scattered across the target. Compared to her previous performance, the shots barely hit the target, with unimpressive ring scores.

Klein, who had been resting nearby, approached curiously upon seeing her unusual shooting stance. Surprised by the bullet hole pattern on the target, he raised an eyebrow.

"Miss Granger, was that some special technique? I thought handgun shooting required..." he demonstrated an aiming pose with his own gun, "...this three-point alignment for aiming."

"That's correct for normal shooting," Angel nodded. She reloaded, mimicked Klein's earlier stance—facing the target squarely, legs apart, both hands raising the gun to eye level—aligning her right eye, rear sight, and target. After a brief aim, she pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out, adding another 10-ring hole to the target.

Klein remained silent, anticipating a "but."

"However, I believe handguns are essentially close-combat weapons. In close-quarters fighting, this wide, deliberate aiming method wastes time and exposes weaknesses to enemies. It's impractical. Close combat doesn't require aiming; you just need to get your bullets into the opponent first."

"That's my personal view, not necessarily correct," Angel added.

Seeing Klein's confused expression, she decided to demonstrate with some practical training.

"Let's pretend we're enemies, standing three meters apart. You win if you can draw and aim at me, while I need to stop you."

She directed Klein to face her, backing up to the table by the wall.

The small range was only about five meters wide, with tables on both sides leaving just about three meters of standing room. They stood almost back-to-back against the tables, facing each other.

Klein stood with his legs slightly apart, flexed his right hand, and focused intently on the motionless Angel before him, his expression serious.

Swoosh—

Catching Angel off guard, he pulled open his coat with his left hand and swiftly reached for the shoulder holster on his left side, gripping and drawing his handgun. This was the same shooting motion he had practiced earlier but failed to hit the target with.

Of course, this time he didn't need to pull the trigger, as his opponent was a colleague. He just needed to aim the gun—

The moment Klein drew his weapon, Angel sprang into action, lunging forward.

For an "Assassin," three meters was barely a step away. Before Klein could fully extend his gun arm, he felt a force pushing his hand back towards his chest. He resisted with his elbow, even pressing his left hand on his right wrist, while stepping backward. But before he could continue, he felt pressure on his abdomen—a gun was already pressed against his coat.

Angel's tall frame (for a woman) was now flush against Klein. Her left hand pinned his gun-wielding wrist, while her right hand had drawn her own weapon and pressed it against his lower abdomen. A slight trigger pull would send a large-caliber bullet into Klein's body.

In less than two seconds, the outcome was decided.

"Ahem—Miss Granger, could you please move? There's no room behind me," Klein said, his face flushed red. He tried to back away, but the small range left no space. With his waist against the table and upper body leaning back, he had to speak up.

Even if Angel lacked feminine awareness, she now realized their posture was somewhat awkward. She quickly released her left hand and stepped back.

"Sorry," she said, turning her face to avoid an uncomfortable gaze, and changed the subject.

"This is what I mean. In close-quarters combat, you don't have time to raise your gun and aim. Keeping the gun far from your body also risks it being taken away. In a life-or-death situation, I could have fired three shots before you even pointed your gun at me."

Klein nodded in agreement. Although he felt he might have had a chance to aim and fire if they were four or five meters apart, in such a small room, drawing from a shoulder holster and raising to aim was indeed too slow.

"Now let's switch roles. Considering you're not an 'Assassin,' we'll stand two meters apart," Angel suggested.

They adjusted their positions, facing each other again, now close enough to almost touch with outstretched arms.

As soon as they were set, Klein charged forward. Knowing his "Seer" potion didn't enhance his physical abilities, he realized his only chance against an "Assassin" in this close-quarters test was to catch her off guard.

He didn't draw his gun while rushing, having learned from his previous failure that his draw from the shoulder holster was no match for Angel's speed. His only hope was to get close enough to restrain her gun hand, just as she had done—

Seeing Klein's attempt to seize her weapon, Angel calmly stepped back with her right foot, drew her gun from her waist holster, blocked Klein's advance with her left elbow, and raised her right hand to chest level, the gun barrel pointing directly at the charging Klein.

By the time Klein's outstretched right hand reached Angel, it was too late to get past her elbow and touch her weapon.

"See, if I hold the gun like this, you have no chance of reaching my weapon. Instead, you've closed the distance, allowing me to shoot without aiming," Angel explained, waving the gun barrel slightly.

Realizing he was at gunpoint, Klein raised both hands in surrender.

"It seems your drawing method is indeed more practical, but can you ensure accuracy when firing without aiming?" Klein asked, drawing his own gun and mimicking Angel's grip. He aimed at the 15-meter target and fired once, predictably missing.

"This is a 15-meter target, which is medium range for handguns. It's normal to miss," Angel explained while walking to Klein's side. She fired three consecutive shots one-handed from waist level, adding three new bullet holes to the target at varying distances from the center.

"But with some practice, most people can do this, which is sufficient for close-range combat at three to five meters."

"Some practice..." Klein seemed to mutter something.

"Hmm?" Angel turned her head, questioning.

"Nothing, I was just wondering... what if the target is dozens of meters away? Say, an enemy with a high-pressure steam rifle fifty meters away?"

"Then, of course, you run as far as you can. You're not thinking of having a shootout with a handgun, are you?" Angel looked at Klein quizzically, as if he had asked an absurd question.

"...You're right," Klein agreed after a moment of silence.