The knowledge gained from books always feels shallow in the end—now Raymond Brooks truly understands this saying. He originally wanted to discuss with John whether Kimber really counts as a high-end brand, but then he thought about how John uses them regularly, while he only read about them online, so Raymond Brooks immediately felt unqualified to discuss it.

Raymond Brooks was stunned for quite a while before finally saying, “So, do you have a Cabot 1911?”

“Do I look like someone who can afford a Cabot? The cheapest one starts at three thousand. If I had three thousand bucks, wouldn’t I buy something better?”

Raymond Brooks was speechless again. Then he cautiously asked, “So why don’t you put a red dot sight or a holographic sight on your gun?”

John turned to glance at Raymond Brooks, then raised his eyebrows with clear disdain and said, “Heh, rookie.”

Raymond Brooks was too embarrassed to say anything else. He thought red dot sights were pretty good, but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he silently took out some money from his small bag, counted out sixteen one-hundred-yuan bills, and quietly handed them to John.

John took them without hesitation, and as he stuffed the money into his pocket, he said, “Alright, alright, after we buy the stuff, I’ll let you shoot a few rounds. I’ve had enough—I don’t want to hear you go on and on anymore. Buddy, what’s so fun about guns? Guns aren’t toys, they’re tools for killing!”

Muttering nonstop, John dragged Raymond Brooks to a shooting club.

It was called a shooting club, but it was also a gun shop. The indoor shooting range and the gun store had two separate entrances. John originally wanted to go straight to the range, but since Raymond Brooks was with him, how could he not go into the gun shop to take a look?

A gun shop—a paradise that brings endless pain to Chinese gun enthusiasts.

The walls were lined with guns, but Raymond Brooks could only look and not buy, because he didn’t have the proper ID, so there was no way he could pass the background check required to buy a gun.

“Ah…”

Raymond Brooks let out a sigh of indeterminate meaning. At this moment, John leaned close to Raymond Brooks’s ear and whispered almost inaudibly, “If you can teach me a few killer moves, I’ll help you buy a gun—register it under my name.”

After saying this, John patted Raymond Brooks on the shoulder, and Raymond Brooks’s eyes lit up. He whispered, “It’s a deal. Let’s go try out some guns now.”

Chapter 10: Only a Genius Will Do

Leaving the shop and entering the club’s reception room, it was still filled with guns.

As a shooting club, although many people brought their own guns to practice, there were also those who didn’t, or just wanted to try out more guns, so the selection here was also very complete.

The only drawback was that this was an indoor range, with the longest lane being just twenty-five meters. That meant the farthest target was only twenty-five meters away, so basically, you could only practice handgun shooting here.

Even though it was a weekday afternoon, there were still a few people shooting in the range. Out of twelve lanes, at least half were occupied.

John was a member of this club and knew every staff member well. So, bringing Raymond Brooks to the reception counter at the range, he immediately said impatiently, “Give my buddy here a few guns—oh, he’s a rookie.”

The staff member bumped fists with John, hitched up his belt, then pointed to the gun rack behind him and said, “Our gun rental fees vary, generally from twelve to twenty dollars. .22 ammo is one dollar for four rounds, 9mm is nine dollars for ten rounds…”

Raymond Brooks didn’t finish listening to the staff’s introduction. He took a deep breath, looked at the guns on the rack, and said without hesitation, “I want a Glock 17…”

“Alright, anything else?”

“I want a Glock 18, Glock 19, Glock 21, Glock 26, Glock 31—that’s all the Glocks.”

Raymond Brooks rattled off all the standard Glock models in various calibers without hesitation. The staff member let out a breath and smiled, “A Glock fan, got it—the full standard Glock series.”

Raymond Brooks continued, “1911s—I want the Colt standard, Commander, Government models, Kimber 1911. Do you have a Cabot 1911?”

The staff looked a bit stunned, and John couldn’t help but say, “Are you crazy? Each gun rental is twenty dollars—no matter how many rounds you shoot, it’s still twenty dollars!”

Raymond Brooks swallowed and went on, “I want that Beretta M9, and that CZ75. Oh, HK—I want the USP9, USP40, USP45. Wait, also the SIG P226, P229, SIG 1911, and the FN57, and…”

“That’s enough!”

John grabbed Raymond Brooks by the shoulder and said in disbelief, “Are you out of your mind?”

Raymond Brooks was still searching his memory, wondering if he’d missed any world-famous guns, but the look in John’s eyes made him feel like an idiot, so he had to rein himself in.

“That’s it for now…”

John said helplessly, “Hold on, the rental fees for all these guns are enough to buy you a gun! Pick two, shoot a few dozen rounds, and use the rest of the money to buy a gun—wouldn’t that be better?”

“You don’t understand the mindset of a military enthusiast—especially one who can only look at pictures and fantasize about what shooting feels like. You just don’t get it.”

If you’re going to spend money, you should spend it. How could buying one gun compare to the thrill of shooting all the famous ones?