"Snap! Clang! Snap! Clang..."
The crisp sounds of gunfire and hitting the iron target continued to ring out. Andy held the pistol with extremely steady hands and fired continuously. The accuracy gradually improved, slowly moving from the edge of the target to the center, and the bullet casings on the ground continued to increase.
"How is this possible?! Every shot can hit the white range of the ten rings?" Hansen said in surprise.
Joseph smiled and glanced at Hansen, who looked as calm as he should be. He knew his boss's abnormal physique, and the recoil had no effect on his shooting accuracy at all, so this result was nothing to be surprised about.
After firing the last bullet, Andy ejected the magazine without stopping. The continuous shooting did not make his wrist sore, and the impact of the recoil was basically non-existent.
"Joseph, I want to try a Desert Eagle. I feel that the power of Beretta is too small and not satisfying enough!" Andy said to Joseph with a slight frown.
"Haha, okay, boss." Joseph responded with a smile, ignoring Hansen's surprise. He walked back to the long table with Andy. He watched Andy pick up the Desert Eagle and put all the Desert Eagle magazines into a box. Then he said to Andy, who was still stroking the Desert Eagle's huge gun, "Boss, you have basically mastered the shooting skills. Given your physical fitness, the recoil of the Desert Eagle won't have a big impact on you. Let's shoot at the 20-meter target this time."
"Huh..." Andy shook the Desert Eagle in his hand with satisfaction and let out a breath of satisfaction.
"Bang! Clang!"
The Desert Eagle was indeed powerful, and its recoil was equally astounding. However, Hansen was surprised to see that Andy's arm only trembled slightly, and the bullets didn't miss the target due to recoil as he had imagined. He watched Andy fire shot after shot, almost always hitting the target, as if the huge recoil of the Desert Eagle had no effect at all. His arm trembled slightly each time, and he knew the kind of arm strength required to offset that kind of recoil.
"Pervert!" Hansen cursed inwardly and said to Kenny beside him, "Andy's physical fitness is amazing!"
"Haha, this time, our boss is born with supernatural powers. You haven't seen him boxing. If you have, you can only describe him as perverted." Kenny chuckled and understood Hansen's surprise.
"Born with supernatural powers? You must be kidding. He doesn't look like a very powerful person!" Hansen curled his lips in disbelief. He didn't think Andy was someone who had such a talent as born with supernatural powers.
"You know shit. Do you think you have to have a body with exaggerated muscles to look powerful? The boss's muscles are all streamlined and full of power. Look at the muscle reaction of his arms when he fires. When he was practicing boxing, the sandbag needed to be replaced with a new one almost every three or four days. The power of his punches was terrifying. Joseph said that his strength was comparable to those in the Delta." Kenny couldn't help but laugh at Hansen's ignorance when he saw him pouting. He and Hansen also knew each other and had done several missions together in Iraq.
"Tsk tsk, is it as exaggerated as you say?" Hansen smacked his lips and squinted his eyes at the bulging muscles on Andy's arms. Although he expressed doubts, when he heard Kenny express Joseph's judgment, he believed that Andy Smith possessed abnormal physical fitness.
"Tsk, I don't want to bother with you!" Kenny snorted in disdain when he saw Hansen's stubborn look.
After Andy fired the last shot, he moved his wrist and shook his arm. The slight muscle tension caused by the huge recoil of the Desert Eagle disappeared. He walked to the target and looked at the mess of bullet holes, feeling a little disappointed.
Although he knew that he was just a novice and had just mastered a little bit of the basics, if he wanted to truly master firearms and unleash their power, he would have to continue training to find the feel and mentality.
How does the saying go, sharpshooters are fed with bullets!
Andy looked back at the various guns on the long table in the distance, and continued to practice with a bit of unwillingness to admit defeat.
"Boss, shooting is not something you can master in a short time. In fact, your current results are already very good. Don't be impatient. The recoil of the gun, the change in trajectory and the fine-tuning of the crosshairs on the gun are all very complicated. Different people have different habits, and different guns naturally have different characteristics. Ordinary people must undergo rigorous training to use guns proficiently. If you want to shoot accurately and well, you have to use a lot of bullets to feed your feeling." Joseph saw Andy was very dissatisfied with his results, and smiled and comforted him.
Of course Andy understood these principles. He calmed down his impatience and said to Joseph, "Okay, I understand. Take your time." Then he began to practice.
Andy shot at the club's shooting range for a whole day, had lunch at the club, and shot for three hours non-stop in the afternoon. Even with his abnormal physical fitness, he felt sore in both wrists, because the huge recoil generated by shooting with a rifle also made his shoulders a little sore.
Of course, the injury wasn't serious, but bruises were inevitable. Even though he had superhuman physique, he was still a mortal and not indestructible. However, constant practice made his gun sense better and better.
Because they had to attend a party in the evening, Andy and his group got into a car and left the Oak Club under Hansen's strange gaze, which said "You are a monster, a pervert", leaving behind a floor full of various bullet casings and dozens of broken iron targets.
Of course, there was also a long bill. At the end of the day, Andy spent tens of thousands of US dollars. After all, he had fired too many bullets. However, he didn't care about this little money. He was no longer a poor loser. How could he care about such a small amount of money with a net worth of billions? Although he felt a little painful deep down when the bill was first printed out, after all, some personality changes cannot be achieved overnight.
With his golden finger, making money wasn't difficult for him, but spending money required some learning. He was a commoner in his previous life, now a wealthy man, and in the future, someone who would be on the Forbes list. This disruptive shift in status and wealth naturally required time to learn and adapt. Those who know how to spend money are wealthy, those who don't are nouveau riche, and there are plenty of people who spend so much that they cry.
Andy's principle for himself is to be neither a tycoon nor a loser. He will upgrade to the material conditions that he should enjoy according to his net worth. He will not indulge in blind luxury, such as buying several private jets at the same time, bathing his dog with expensive champagne, giving his dog an Apple Watch, etc. He will leave the hateful and suicidal ostentatious behaviors to the second generation. He just wants to be a quiet and beautiful rich man who enjoys himself secretly.
On the way home, the stimulation and excitement brought by the guns gradually subsided. He leaned quietly on the seat with his eyes slightly closed to relieve the fatigue in his body, but his thoughts drifted to the upcoming party in the evening. His restless heart made him extremely excited.
Yearning, entanglement, complexity and incomprehensibility. After all, tonight was his first time attending a party, and it was a hunting party specially prepared for him by his lackey. He felt a little guilty, but it quickly dissipated because of the dream of a otaku's crystal palace that he had hidden deep in his heart and could only fantasize about in his previous life.
In the previous life, you could only fantasize because you didn't have the conditions. Now that you have the conditions and opportunities in this life, if you don't enjoy them to the fullest, it's basically like you traveled through time in vain and lived in vain.
Look at Leonardo DiCaprio, the Victoria's Secret Angels are basically his reserve Crystal Palace, which is replaced every few months. All the men in the world hate him to death, and they are envious, jealous and hate him, and they prick him like little paper men with needles. Comparing yourself to others will make you angry to death!
Shaking his head to get rid of the last bit of his innocent innocence, Andy thought about all those famous bitches who had been brought down by Leo, and couldn't help but grit his teeth and think, "Damn, playboys are the real winners in life!"
After returning home, he greeted Liu Yan and asked her to prepare some food. Then he walked into the bathroom, turned on the bathtub, took off his already dirty white T-shirt, looked in the mirror, and saw some bruises where he was hit by the butt of the gun. He couldn't help but frowned. Because he was a white person and had been transformed by time travel, he didn't have exaggerated sweat hair and rough spots. His skin was so white that it was speechless, and the little bruises were very obvious.
"Let's go to Chinatown if we have a chance and buy some safflower oil or something." Andy looked at his strong body in the mirror. The bruises ruined his beauty. He muttered a little annoyed, and his narcissism was evident.
Steam was rising from the luxurious and spacious bathtub. Andy tested the water temperature, took off his clothes, stepped into the bathtub and lay down.
"Huh~~~"
Andy exhaled a breath, looked at his skin which was slightly red from the hot water, and gently rubbed the bruise on his shoulder.
Thinking of the party tonight, he couldn't help but look at the large baton floating leisurely in the water, and muttered a little proudly, "I'll let you open your eyes tonight! You are blessed with a good size, but it's just a little white, not domineering enough!"
At first, there was nothing wrong with his mumbling, but it seemed that he was thinking of a movie he had seen in his previous life called "My Dick Could Talk", and he couldn't help but cough lightly in embarrassment. No one else can be so narcissistic.
After taking a 20-minute bath to wash away all the fatigue, I wiped off the water stains with a towel. I was narcissistic in front of the mirror for a while, and rolled CK perfume under my armpits a few times. A faint scent of citrus, frost leaves and lavender wafted out.
This is also the habit Andy adapted to after traveling through time. Westerners have large pores and very developed sweat glands. Almost 80% to 90% of people have a body odor, so perfume is a necessity. Although he doesn't have any odor, wouldn't it be better to have a fresh fragrance on his body?