Chapter 12: This Family Is Not Normal
"Are you sure it's okay for us to practice with real weapons?"
Emma raised the gun with both hands. The SIG Sauer P226 was heavier than she had imagined. Nothing like the movies, where heroes swung pistols as if they were toys. This piece of metal was cold, dense, lethal. Every gram reminded her of the same thing: with a single movement, she could end a life.
Her fingers clutched the grip awkwardly, knuckles white from the pressure, while the barrel trembled slightly.
Richard stood at her side, his gaze fixed.
"You just need to hit the cans…"
He pointed at the improvised pyramid. A dozen cans stacked, fragile, waiting to be toppled.
The reason for that practice was clear. Ethan had fired a shot inside the room without realizing the gun was loaded. The bullet had pierced the television from one side to the other, turning it into a colander.
Goodbye movie nights.
Welcome to nothing.
At least there was still a computer available for shared use. Hopefully, it would remain that way for some time.
"So…" Ethan's deep voice broke the silence. "How the hell did you get all these weapons?" asked Ethan.
The rifle was pointing at Richard's chest, as if it were an action without any real danger.
"…Uncle, watch where you're pointing that."
The man blinked a few times, then adjusted his stance with an uneasy smile. His lack of knowledge was evident in every movement.
Emma, meanwhile, continued struggling with her weapon.
She had trouble staying calm, her movements tense as if she were trying to mimic stances she had seen in tutorial videos. The barrel didn't stay steady, trembling with every pulse.
Richard exhaled deeply.
He had witnessed that situation many times: beginners handling a real pistol for the first time.
In his past life, that moment had always ended the same way: either they learned the lesson quickly, or they died quickly without doing anything at all.
He remembered the screams. The smell of gunpowder and fresh blood mixing in the air.
The eyes of those novices, wide open. Those who, under pressure, chose to flee, leaving behind the back they had sworn to protect, to be devoured by the infected.
He shook his head. No. This wasn't that moment.
"The trigger is not your enemy," he murmured calmly, this time in a softer tone. "Don't hold the gun too tightly. Breathe. Think of it as part of you. If you press it, it will press you back."
Emma looked at him skeptically, but relaxed her shoulders and loosened her grip slightly. The trembling lessened… though not completely.
Then, a metallic crash.
Surprisingly, the first to hit the target was Ethan, followed by Emma. They still had much to learn, but at least one in every round of shots could now hit the mark. That was good progress for the time they had been practicing.
"…"
The blood rain kept falling like a universal deluge. It could be taken as a bad omen. The truth was, there was nothing wrong with that event. The longer the rain lasted, the greater a blessing it would be for the Awakened.
The mineral that would form as veins deep within the earth was the new gold of tomorrow. That material could keep electronic equipment running for months. Though its true function would only be discovered by an Awakened with the talent of Fabrication.
The most basic weapons created by someone of that profession were the most coveted in all the cities. Even the trash of those business magnates could make the power-hungry masses drool.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The cans, each one individually, collapsed within seconds. First one, then two… until the last one was struck at the top of the pyramid with uncanny precision.
"Did you see what I just did?" he exclaimed excitedly. "I swear, daughter, I've never used a gun in my life."
Ethan stood there, the rifle still smoking in his hands. His eyes were wide with confusion. It seemed even he didn't believe what he had just done.
"Uncle Ethan, repeat it and shoot again."
Richard set the cans back in place.
He had an idea of what was happening. And if that premonition turned out to be true, it meant Emma's family was full of undiscovered talents.
"Now I understand where all my luck went…" he murmured.
Ethan had once again knocked down each of the cans flawlessly. One shot after another, no mistakes. It was like watching a veteran expert, not someone who had spent most of his life among pots and pans.
Cruel fate always had its favorites. And Richard knew that better than anyone.
So he advanced slowly and in complete silence.
His steps, as quiet as an expert assassin's, did not give him away to anyone present. He held a knife that glimmered faintly, catching the scarce light entering through the window. The tip of the weapon was aimed at Ethan's chest.
He didn't want to hurt him.
He only wanted to know if Ethan had truly awakened his innate talent. Although this was not the best way, he hoped to find out whether Ethan had obtained all the advantages of a Fabrication talent. That way, he would know if investing in Ethan to turn him into an Awakened was worth it.
It might sound cruel, because after all, Ethan had been like a father to Richard.
But he couldn't just waste resources recklessly. He cared about the whole family, and that was why he had gone through hell to bring them back. But he couldn't just give them everything and delay his own improvement.
At the last second, Ethan grew uneasy.
As if with extrasensory perception, he stepped back just as the blade was about to touch his shoulder. The movement was swift, automatic, almost natural… too natural for someone who had never trained.
"What the hell is wrong with you, boy?!" Ethan roared, veins bulging in his neck, the rifle still firm in his hands.
For a moment, he was on the verge of pulling the trigger. His finger had been driven toward it almost automatically, as if shooting was as natural as inhaling. The barrel stayed aimed at Richard's chest.
"Sorry… I just wanted to test something."
Richard raised his other hand, a pacifying gesture.
"You scared the hell out of me… almost gave me a heart attack! If that's how young people play nowadays, better don't get too close to me." Ethan stepped away from Richard as if he were a plague. "Daughter, I think Richard ate something spoiled."
Emma stepped between the two.
"You're starting to scare my father… could you stop smiling like that?" she asked, noticing the strange grin Richard was giving.
Hearing her words, Richard covered his mouth with his hand, hiding the unexpected smile that had escaped.
"Sorry, it's a bad habit of mine."
Who could blame him for smiling, anyway?
He had found the goose that laid the golden eggs. If only Ethan knew his true value. No one could know how much things might change with him.
Money and power were poisons that had always managed to corrupt much of humanity. They could turn the kindest person into someone entirely different.
"I was right…" Richard whispered, barely audible. "Ethan is just like you, Emma. He awakened an innate talent."
The air seemed to freeze after those words. Emma blinked, not understanding, but before she could speak, her father went still, staring at a point in the horizon. His eyes lost focus, as if something invisible was manifesting before him.
"Is… this what you're talking about?"
He pointed forward.
[Name: Ethan Walker] [Age: 45][Main Talent: Fabrication] [Rank: S][Secondary Talent: Gunsmith] [Rank: B][Infection Level: None]
"Emma… what the hell does this mean?" he asked, his voice heavy with confusion.
The holographic screen seemed to follow him relentlessly. It even knew his age. But mainly, he didn't understand what those talents meant.
"I don't know either…" she admitted, lowering her eyes for a moment. Then she turned her head toward Richard, seeking support, an answer. "Richard told me I awakened a talent earlier today."
Richard finally stepped forward.
"It's the truth."
"Emma awakened a talent. And now… you too."
Richard replied.
But to kill two birds with one stone, he decided to take them both to the armory. He was curious about Ethan's sintering rate. That could be improved later, so it wasn't a problem if it was low.
There was still time. So he could wait before having a personalized weapon.
Richard approached with a mischievous smile. His attitude shifted a full one hundred and eighty degrees in an instant.
"Don't you know you're my favorite uncle?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden change.
"I'm your only uncle…"
Silence fell between them like a weight.
Emma and Rebecca, who followed close behind, exchanged glances. Richard held the smile for a few seconds, then clicked his tongue and shrugged.
"That doesn't make it any less true."
Ethan glanced sideways at him, as if making sure he wasn't being mocked.
"Sure… what an honor to be the favorite in a competition without rivals."