Cheng Ming had some confidence in his marksmanship. After all, given his abilities, firearms were the only thing capable of inflicting effective damage against supernatural creatures. Furthermore, the Mysterious Creature Research Institute received a large allocation of near-expiry ammunition every year for training purposes. Whenever Cheng Ming had any spare time, he would immerse himself in practicing at the shooting range—it was the only time he could completely lose himself, forgetting his mother's illness, his own memetic infection, the trivialities of life, and those impending loan bills.
Aim, hold breath, pull the trigger.
Feel the recoil traveling from the palm, through the wrist, up the arm, and to the shoulder...
"Bang! Bang! Bang bang!!"
The first shot hit the forehead, followed by two shots to G09's chest as if guided by muscle memory, and finally, he aimed back at the head for the last shot.
G09's movements halted.
