Jimmy had almost taken care of everything during the day, and after booking the shooting range, he spent some time bubbling on the phone with Nia and then it was time to rest. Sleep was needed for mental recovery, so he went to bed early whenever possible. This was his first time using Heart Eye for such an extended period, and he really lacked experience. In the future, he would try to limit the long periods of using Heart Eye, as even a day's rest hadn't been enough to recover fully.

The next day, Jimmy drove to the training center on Staten Island. The range had cleaned up a small shooting range for him, only 20 meters long. They knew Jimmy used semi-automatic and revolver handguns, so there was no point in setting up a rifle range for him.

Jimmy, "Tommy, do you have a clay pigeon launcher here?"

Tommy, the range manager, shook his head, "No, we don't. This is a training range, those kinds of sports aren't what we do here."

Jimmy sighed, "That's a shame, I was planning to practice my reflexes."

Tommy looked puzzled, "Do you want to shoot clay pigeons with a shotgun? Or are you saying you want to use a handgun to shoot them?"

Jimmy nodded, "The launcher's speed and angle vary each time, which I thought could be a good way to practice marksmanship."

This time Tommy didn't just shake his head, he also waved his hand, "Absolutely not, please don't do that. Jimmy, clay pigeon shooting is done with shotguns which have a short range by design, and the ammunition used is sport loads that are frangible and have a shorter range, to prevent accidents. If you used a handgun, let's not even talk about whether you could accurately hit the targets, just consider the bullets' range—it's very dangerous for people around the range."

Jimmy blinked, "There's so much to consider? So how should I train my shooting reflexes then?"

Tommy, "The simplest is a moving target, but we don't have those here, only fixed targets. If you really want to try clay pigeon shooting, you'd have to go to a self-built range on a farm, with enough space to be safe. Ordinary ranges aren't big enough for that kind of activity."

Jimmy sighed, "Where can I find such a range? Forget it, I'll just practice shooting the proper way."

Jimmy took out two boxes of ammo from his bag and placed them on the counter, one box of .357 Magnum, one box of 9mm. Seeing the ammo he brought, Tommy said, "Don't bother opening them, I'll bring some for you; just wait a moment."

That worked for Jimmy; he put the unopened boxes back into his bag. Ammo was expensive, so using the range's was best, although he hadn't felt comfortable mentioning it over the phone earlier.

With plenty of time today, Jimmy hadn't indulged at a shooting range in a long time and was ready to enjoy himself with the range's ammunition. However, it wasn't long before he was being watched as he practiced. It was common, as news of Jimmy's records spread, everyone in the support squad knew of a formidable uniformed officer with countless killings, excessively brutal.

During a break, a representative from the support squad came over to communicate with Jimmy, proposing a training match. It didn't bother Jimmy; he had come to practice shooting, and putting on a show with them to pass the time was no big deal. Suited up with a bullet-proof vest and a bullet-proof helmet, both parties used training weapons and ammo and entered a simulated building.

This was a tactical training area for the support squad, primarily used for indoor CQB short-range firefights and hostage rescue operations. Unfortunately, Jimmy had been passively assigned the role of the criminal this time. He was inside the house while the support squad attacked from outside, a role similar to the one he played during witness protection a couple of days ago.

Regrettably, for someone skilled like Jimmy, the five-person support squad met their demise shortly after entering the simulated apartment as he switched positions in a room, effortlessly defeating them.

The support squad's entry plan was their standard assault procedure. The team lined up—first with a shield bearer, second with a breacher, with the rest following behind the shield. Before they could open fire, Jimmy ambushed them from a corner, first shooting the shield bearer's feet and legs. As he staggered, Jimmy quickly 'took out' the second and third members and then left the corner for another room.

The support squad still followed the rules of the exercise; those who got shot fell to the ground, and their comrades fired at the corner of the wall to no avail. Jimmy had retreated the moment he fired his shot. He was quite sly. Even though it was just a training exercise, being taken out by someone else was too embarrassing.

The remaining three didn't continue the assault but dragged the two "corpses" back with them. The shield bearer at the front also limped away from the building. Hidden in a small house nearby, Jimmy shot and hit the three retreating figures from a window without them ever seeing him. The squad of five was completely "wiped out".

"Fxxk!" "Damn!" A bunch of grown men cursed dirty words as they removed their bullet-proof helmets.

"Jimmy, you bastard, come out."

Jimmy, with a smile, took off his helmet and climbed out the window, too lazy to use the door. "How about that?"

"That was dirty. This round doesn't count, let's go again."

Jimmy lifted his helmet and shook it, "You guys go ahead, I'll attack. Change of plan, witness protection."

"OK, guys, go on in."

The five-man squad grumbled and walked back into the building, while Jimmy put his bullet-proof helmet back on and stood 20 meters away. As soon as a gunshot sounded from inside, it was his signal to move. He advanced from a blind spot in the building's design, a different approach from that of the support squad, but indeed very effective.

When he reached the outside of an unoccupied room, to give a good impression to the onlookers, Jimmy deliberately peaked from the window before flipping inside. Once inside the building, no one could see him. The five were split into two groups, two on one side and three on the other; no big deal.

Jimmy tiptoed from the room to the corridor, sticking close to the wall to approach them. As soon as a clear line of fire presented itself, he swiftly shot the two men to one side, then immediately retreated to an adjacent room. Hearing the shots, the remaining three rushed over; two in front, one in the rear, slowly advancing down the hallway and meticulously scanning it to pinpoint Jimmy's location.

After making sure they hadn't spotted anything, they proceeded in formation down the hall. Approaching the first room, one man peeked in while another waited a second longer before aiming squarely at the room, taking position on the opposite side of the door. Jimmy, watching from the corner, had a chance to shoot the first man as he appeared at the door but let him pass. He waited until the second man was in position and they were about to enter before firing, catching both men just as they stepped in and before they could turn, striking their bullet-proof helmets.

The last man hadn't entered yet but was aiming at the door, moving inch by inch. Unfortunately, such a movement might have worked against an average person, but it was almost useless against Jimmy. He made a predictive shot and took out the last man.

In fact, without using grenades or other area-of-effect weapons in such a complex simulated building, Jimmy was unbeatable. He could see every person's movements and speed, and with Black Rainbow's increasingly rapid response time, as long as they didn't shoot through walls, anyone popping their head around the door would meet a bullet from Jimmy aimed right at their head.

This time, there were no more grumbles; the dejected five-man squad shook their heads as they slowly shuffled out of the simulated building.

"Ah, refreshing! I'll come again next time if I have the chance." Jimmy laughed as he followed them out of the building, making sure to take another jab at them.

"Get lost, don't come back," they immediately spirited up, saying a word before dashing off the training field. Jimmy laughed all the way back to the pistol range, handed the bullet-proof vest and helmet back to the range officer, changed into his own clothes, packed up his gun and bullets, and left the range to return to Manhattan.

(Just banged out a short chapter, thought I'd release it for everyone to see.)

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