Eight shots, five missed the target, three hit the bullseye; the outcome was indeed dramatically effective.
When Gao Guang laid the empty gun on the table, suddenly someone said, "Is he controlling the target? He's controlling the target! He's definitely controlling it!"
No one knew who had said it, but someone had uttered the words "controlling the target."
The staff member sighed and said to Gao Guang, "Buddy, if you don't particularly like the SW1911, then you just don't want John's custom gun. Anyway, you won, three bullseyes, five missed the mark... nicely done."
In a shooting competition, controlling the gun refers to managing the firearm's shooting posture, which every shooter must do; it's a fundamental skill, like needing legs to run a race.
But controlling the target is different; it means hitting exactly where you intend, with ease. Only those who can shoot at will truly merit the term "controlling the target."
"Is this guy joking? He was just shooting randomly; his method was all over the place. How can that even be controlling the target?"
"Today's been bizarre; I've never encountered anything like this in my life."
A few onlookers began discussing among themselves; they found Gao Guang's approach to shooting unscientific, irregular, incorrect—in a word, wrong. But achieving the effect of controlling the target just didn't make sense to them.
As everyone knows, in any competition, losing is easy, winning is a bit harder, and winning just right requires a true master. To win exactly how you want and have everything under control, you must be a super-master.
But Gao Guang really didn't know how he had done it; his hand was numb, his brain was numb—in all good conscience, he was just blindly shooting.
Gao Guang looked at John, and John looked back at Gao Guang.
After a moment of eye contact, Gao Guang said softly, "Err, actually...
"Wil, do you have this gun in stock?"
"Yes, we have just one left. Are you really going to buy it?"
John didn't pay any more attention to the staff member. He said to Gao Guang, "Keep shooting off your rounds; I'm going to pay and do the paperwork."
Then John left. Gao Guang opened his mouth, then turned to the staff member and said, "Would you believe me if I said I was just guessing? Do you all believe that? It was a coincidence, really, just a coincidence."
The staff member smiled awkwardly but politely and asked, "Do you want to continue shooting? Hmm, we can order a left-handed version of the SW1911. It should be ready by the time John's gun purchase permit is approved."
"I'm really not a lefty. I truly was shooting for the first time. I... never mind."
Gao Guang decided to pay John; after all, he had been planning to buy a handgun himself, preferring a Glock, though it now seemed inappropriate to mention that.
A more expensive gun is just that, more expensive. Given today's bizarre events, he'd just go with it.
After firing a few more times, Gao Guang finally decided to give up. As much as it pained him, injuring his arm on his first attempt at shooting would be foolish.
He followed the staff member out of the indoor shooting range and into the administrative office to complete the paperwork. John's information was also filled out.
John simply said, "Not shooting anymore? Then let's go. We'll head to Walmart and then I'll drop you off at the company."
How had things suddenly become so awkward? Gao Guang was utterly confused. He wanted to explain, but realized he had nothing to explain.
Once in the car, Gao Guang wanted to say something, but John spoke first, "It was my idea to bet with you. Don't say anything; it's just over a thousand bucks. I can afford to lose it and pay it. Let's leave it at that."
Gao Guang had nothing more to say. He rubbed his face and gave a resigned smile, while John continued, "Today's range was too small. Tomorrow, I'll take you to an outdoor range in the suburbs. You enjoy shooting, right? Tomorrow you can shoot rifles, anything you want."
John's tone sounded normal, but there seemed to be a hint of resentment in his words.
Cautiously, Gao Guang said, "John, I didn't mean to—I haven't—I really was shooting for the first time. I truly don't know how I did it. You have to believe me."
John nodded, then said calmly, "I'm looking forward to seeing how you do with a rifle tomorrow. Oh, don't worry. I won't bet with you, and I won't compete against you. I'm just curious, that's all. Maybe you're a genius."
Gao Guang felt John shouldn't be so petty; after all, he hadn't offended him. But why did it seem like John's words were filled with irony?
Better to say nothing at all, Gao Guang thought. It was best to maintain silence at this time.
The atmosphere was a bit strained, but things went smoothly and even seemed normal. They did some shopping at the supermarket, with John still helping to swipe his card. After shopping, when it came to eating, John happily accepted Gao Guang's offer to treat him.
It was getting dark when John dropped Gao Guang off at the company. Crucially, up until the end, John hadn't suggested trying out some moves with Gao Guang, almost as if he had forgotten about wanting to learn a few tricks from him. After giving some precautionary advice, John left.
Gao Guang was left alone in the company. He had no interest in exploring or touring the facility. After tidying up the odds and ends and overcome by exhaustion, Gao Guang checked the time. Ultimately, he connected the phone to the WiFi and made a video call to his father.
Despite being weary, the moment the video connected, Gao Guang's face lit up with excitement, showing none of the signs of fatigue.
"Dad, my phone card doesn't work overseas. The hotel I stayed at yesterday had no WiFi, so I couldn't send you a message. Today I switched to a hotel with WiFi. From now on, we can video call if there's anything."
Gao Guang's tone was relaxed and joyful, as if he was too excited to have forgotten to call home.
"You didn't even call, and your mother was worried sick. Everything okay over there?"
Gao Guang wasn't ready to mention he was in Los Angeles, because he couldn't explain. Of course, he had to tell them eventually but would wait a couple of days until he could fabricate a suitable reason.
For now, Gao Guang just wanted to check in, so he said casually, "There's nothing wrong. What could be? Don't worry about me, Mom and Dad. I'm doing great over here."
After rambling a bit, he finished the video call. The excitement on Gao Guang's face immediately vanished, and he collapsed onto the mattress.
Exhausted, Gao Guang just wanted to sleep and forget about everything else.
But just as his eyes closed, Gao Guang suddenly remembered something important. He leapt up from the mattress and grabbed his small bag quickly.
Taking out the phone the Captain had given him, he first deleted the videos, then reset the phone to factory settings, making sure not to leave any evidence. Only then did Gao Guang feel at peace lying back down and almost instantly fell asleep.