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He walked in the arsenal. Rows of swords, from highly made single and double handed swords, bamboo practice ones, spears, and bows. He passed them all, and headed to the Gunslinger replicas. He was a bit amazed at what he saw there. The standard six-shooters assigned. Upon closer inspection though, they were merely all metal airsoft weapons.
"Hmm...the replicas look like it can stand a beating." He selected a pair of holsters, and looked through the weapons. They were all airsoft replicas of the real thing. They looked good enough. He selected two that were magazine fed, and looked good enough.
"Hmm...for training pistols, the weight and balance are quite like the real thing." He chose two pistols of the same make, and after seeing how it was reloaded and firing a dry chamber, as well a was satisfied. He also took two spare mags for both. It was his standard, load, as one would say. The magazines would've held more pellets, but he only kept 7 in each, with 1 chambered, the same as if he were using his own pistols.
"I believe I am ready. Ma'am." He held both pistols at his side, fingers off the trigger and such. He was nervous, one could see it. But he was also confident in his abilities.
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"Well ma'am, if these things are as strong as I think they are, it'll be ok, but to be sure, I'll grab a short sword or a dagger." He smiled himself, and holstered both weapons. He ducked quickly back into the armory, and grabbed a long dagger, angular in design, with a serated edge on the bottom. He got a sheath that was positioned in the back of his waistline, for access to his left hand.
"Now, I'm really ready, if you don't mind me getting a blade."
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He smiled a bit, as she reached one, the word was barely uttered form her lips when he drawed his left handed weapon. It was his 'off-hand' weapons, being primarily right handed, but he held it out. His shots were quick to an untrained person, but he pulled the trigger consistently and not in some rapid jerk. This resulted in him hitting his targets.
Said targets were okay for the first few hits, but by the time he needed to reload, he noticed the targets were coming up faster. He thumbed the magazine catch as he let the empty one fall away, and in a quick motion loaded a new one in before the old one hit the floor. He had resorted to firing a more solid, two handed method, but it didn't mean he was perfect. Although all the pelets went through the painted 'kill zones' of each target, he had already missed one target when he attempted to cock, aim, and fire the pistol in one motion after reloading.
'My reloads will kill me.' He thought, as he made an effort to at least 'kill' his targets. He smiled, hoping at least his accuracy would make her notice him as a Gunslinger, and not just some friend who became an applicant.
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Second reload. Second Target missed. But this time, he fired from his right. His face appeared blank, and unlike his more careful firing from before with his non-dominant hand, he was pulling quick shots, fairly accurate, if you could say reacting, aiming, and firing a shot within the time it takes a target to pop out and stay in place is slow. He finished the 7 pellets in the magazine in about 20 seconds, resulting in 7 mortally wounded or killed targets downrange. His reload speed was greatly increased now. He was back in the same killing zone that he acquired form staying an extra year in the shooting school, and endless practice where his life actually mattered as a insurgent in the war. Third reload, near miss. His last magazine for this gun, he was concentrating fully on the targets in front of him.
*click*
The gun ran dry, as another target popped out. He dropped the current gun and switched instantly to his right hand weapon, performing a Lighthalzen reload. The other gun had barely stopped bouncing from the impact on the floor when he was placing three into the target. Continuing with another target as he dropped the first one, he dropped it with two and one on another, before he finally missed his third target.
"Crap." He said, and lowered his weapon, his face breaking into a apologetic smile. "Sorry, missed the third target Hazumu. I mean, Ms. Strongwill."
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He watched her go, and slumped against the wall. He done bad by not switching right away to his dominant hand. Something else loomed over his head. Her.
Personally, had he fired with his right hand the entire time, he'd get perfect most of the time, he wasn't used to reloading with his right, nor was he used to aiming and firing with his left. It was a bad choice, and it was going to cost him. Now, with her next test, this was the one people have come out with broken bones and cuts. One reason he chose the long dagger, if she was going to come at him, he may as well give her a few bruises of his own, right?
"Damn..." He thought things over. To ask her to be lenient may have him drop out instantly, but to have her go all on out, like he'd seen back in the war, was plain suicide.
"She also said she's judging me by my ability to judge m enemy." He spoke to his pistol, well, to himself. "If I remember correctly, she's a close to mid range fighter. This pistol won't do much, but if I register a hit on her, it may make her notice. I'm no knight or anything, so if there's any cover, I'll use it...no sense in trying to act defiant in view of a stronger enemy..." He merely closed his eyes and thought.
"Thsi will be on hell of a fight. I die in three seconds." He laughed and shook his head. He's no Knight, he'll ask for her to go easy on him.
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Nodding, he returned the pistols to the armory. Looking around, he saw what he needed. A box of tranquilizer cartriges and the two weapons he needed. One was the standard issue semi-auto Jungle Carbine in use with the Police Forces in riot situations, the other, an accurized semi-automatic, known as the Long Barrel. He also burdened himself with ropes,a hat, a hatchet, and backpack to hold it all in.
Basically, he was cutting down his speed. He'd hoped the woods were not as thick, or his Long Barrel will be nothign more than an unusuable piece of equipment, or too spread out, negating his tactic of stealth and concealment.
"How much time am I allowed to set up an ambush?" He asked her, after leaving the arsenal, the Long Barrel broken into two pieces for transport and him sliding a 15 round magazine into the Jungle Carbine and pulling the bolt.
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He followed her to the woods, by the time he got there, he had a few ideas on how to go about doing this. The woods he saw weren't really clustered, nor where they spread apart too much. Little bushes and such everywhere.
He nodded at her, and set off in a jogging start into the woods. ONce away from her view, he looked around. The path was often used, and he thought he saw some metal around. But it didn't matter. He took a few darts, and made a simple booby trap. Meant to fire when someone moves the fallen leafy branch he laid across the trail, he merely made it obvious that was his trap, he placed a more obscure one to the side, where he'd imagine she'd be after defeating the earlier one. There was bend with a large tree in it, a suitable spot to snipe someone. He climbed up, and set the rifle to merely stick out, nearly visible.
He guessed his thirty minutes was almost up. He made a great deal apply dirt all over his face and hands, as well as the Carbine, and snuck off away from the other tree with the Long Barrel, to a clump of trees to the side, and hid himself beneath some bushes. He stayed quiet, unmoving, relaxing so his heartbeat and breathign won't spoil his aim.
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Farther up, she would encounter the fallen branch booby trap, where to move the dart would return two bent young branches to launch two darts straight down the trail, a meter or so away, she would encounter the more well hidden, four dart booby trap. Same mechanism, more well hidden and at thigh level, the branched pulled back and concealed.
If she gets past this, then it's merely a walk to the mini clearing, where Kaplan had set up a decoy involving the barrel of the Long Barrel sticking out of a tree. He was hurriedly finishing one last trap, it was in the far end of the trail, and involved a semi-elaborate set up where the actual Long Barrel, having been stripped of its forward assembly, would still fire darts, although with only 4 inches of metal to clear before hitting the air, making it grossly inaccurate. But with his shooting earlier, it wouldn't matter. He controlled the trigger through some rope he'd cut, and was reaching another hiding spot. He'd made sure to cover his tracks well, taking care only to bend, not snap, plants that were in his way, and lying among them.
He had expirience with camoflauge hiding from numerous trackers in the war, and the hat he got was covered in leaves and his once clean and proud uniform was stained and ground colored, the Jungle Carbine, usually Reddish in color, was dirty, covered in mud and damp soil. He was a little tensed, but he had been focusing more and more in the worse case scenarios. And right now, he made sure his Carbine was zero'd in, as he laid on the ground behind the bushes, carbine barrel not sticking out from behind the cover of the bushes.
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