Why exercise? Of course, it’s for future enjoyment.

After a quick shower back home, Martin went next door to Carter’s house to mooch breakfast.

Lily and Hall packed their schoolbags, getting ready for school.

Eleanor brought over egg sandwiches. As Martin ate, he asked Harris, who was flipping through a book, “Not going to school?”

Harris replied, “I’m preparing to apply for college. Studying at home is more efficient than going to public high school.”

“Good luck.” After finishing breakfast, Martin pulled last night’s tips from his pocket and tossed them to Eleanor. “My meal money.”

Eleanor was surprised. “Idiot, are you crazy? Did a black thug hit you on the head?”

Martin drank his milk without looking up. “Got a new job, working as a bartender at the Beast House.”

Lily suddenly chimed in, “Why not a dancer? I’m saving up money…”

Bang, bang—two punches from Eleanor’s iron fists, and Lily and Hall clutched their noses, instantly behaving.

Martin finished his milk and said to Eleanor, “I’m planning to buy a used car. Want to come with me?”

Eleanor picked up a purity ring and put it on her left ring finger. “I’m helping out at the Methodist church this morning. The Methodist Association recently teamed up with the Atlanta Methodists to promote new conservatism. The free lunch they offer is pretty lavish.”

It was the first time Martin had heard the name. “Methodist Association?”

Eleanor explained simply, “A conservative organization, same origin as the rule-abiding Methodist church, same damn conservative ideas!”

Martin got it. “So that’s why you put on the ring?”

Eleanor said, “Whoever offers more free food, that’s who I believe in.”

Lily was about to butt in again, but Martin was ready this time. “If you don’t want to get punched into a pig’s head, keep your mouth shut.”

Eleanor asked, “Now that you’ve got a new job, should we throw a party to celebrate?”

“When I’m less busy, invite your friends and we’ll have it in my backyard.” Martin pointed to his rented house. “Lately I keep feeling like James isn’t resting peacefully down there. If we get more people to dance over James’s head, he’ll see us living happily and finally settle down.”

Eleanor nodded. “I’ll call Monica and the others over.”

Martin called Bruce and met up with him on the south side of the community. The two had agreed yesterday to go car shopping together.

Vincent Lee’s family was involved in many businesses, including a used car dealership. Bruce was one of Vincent’s trusted men and could earn a commission for bringing in business.

Among the cars recommended by the sales staff and Bruce, Martin chose a Ford. The $4,500 price, of course, had to be paid in installments.

He worried that anything cheaper might break down on the road.

He put down a $900 down payment, finished the paperwork, and then the two headed to a gun shop.

Martin had no criminal record, so he could definitely buy a legal firearm.

The shop had consignment used guns—an almost-new Glock 17, brought in by a warehouse treasure hunter.

Bruce disassembled it for a careful inspection and suggested Martin buy it.

The pistol came with two magazines. Including a holster, gun oil for maintenance, and 100 rounds of ammo, the total was $380.

Georgia’s gun regulations are pretty relaxed, and handgun permit applications are processed quickly. According to the shop owner, the state government had even discussed a bill for permitless, concealed carry.

They went into the shop’s small shooting range. Martin pulled out two five-dollar bills and handed them to Bruce.

Bruce pocketed the money and grinned. “Until I go to work tonight, I’m all yours.”

Martin reminded him, “Dude, you’re a civilized person, and I want to be one too. Don’t say things that could be misunderstood.”

Bruce removed the magazine and asked, “Ever used a gun before?”

Martin shrugged. “Only played with prop guns and toy guns.”

Bruce started teaching from how to operate the safety and load bullets, and reminded Martin, “Don’t forget the poster you promised.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” Martin loaded bullets into the empty magazine.

Bruce had taken the money, so he taught very seriously, and Martin learned just as seriously.

It wasn’t just a survival skill—he might use it for acting roles too.

When Bruce taught shooting, he first explained the key points, then demonstrated himself. He moved swiftly, shot accurately, and hit the target ten meters away every time.

Martin put on earplugs and fired several magazines, at least getting a sense of what shooting a handgun was like.

As for marksmanship, he wasn’t there yet.

“For letting me make some money, here’s a few tips.” Bruce pulled up a chair and sat down. “If you run into black scum from the South, like last night, don’t hesitate to show your gun when you need to. It’s what lets us keep being civilized people.”

It was because of last night that Martin had decided to buy a gun and a car. He immediately replied, “I’ll learn from you how to be civilized.”

Bruce added, “If you get stopped by the police and you haven’t done anything serious, just do what they say. Don’t even think about reaching for your gun. You’re a rookie and you’ll get shot full of holes.”

Martin had seen too many videos about this and said, “I won’t give them the chance.”

Bruce gave one last piece of advice. “You’re a rookie, you can’t scare anyone. If the other guy has a gun, just figure out how to run.”

Martin laughed and said, “I’ll run away with my tail between my legs, then call you, the old pro, to get even for me.”