Chapter 31: Sudden Calamity

Practice with a rifle? Practice my ass.

Although Ma Ma Zhaodi really wanted to say that, his current rifle skill level was indeed not quite sufficient.

If he hadn't bought the Basic Rifle Proficiency, that shot at the chandelier back then might have gone wide and hit the supervisor.

Brother Tan Zheng's Black Flag skills were forged over decades of gunfight service; although catching up in just a few weekends was unlikely, he still had to learn, as such things were built up day by day.

Of course, there were also faster ways.

Ma Ma Zhaodi opened the System Shop, looked at the Intermediate Rifle Proficiency priced at 5000 dollars inside, and silently backed out.

"Actually, thinking about it carefully, taking shortcuts isn't my style."

At dusk, Ma Ma Zhaodi was driving his beloved car down the street; the restaurant supervisor was somewhat sick in the head, giving him a shooting range address in the Burnley District, which meant he still had to drive a long distance, specifically from the East District to the Burnley District to practice shooting.

Although as the central area of Gotham, its prosperity and tidy appearance were indeed pleasing to the eye, with many entertainment facilities and high-end clubs located here, these things held no meaning for Ma Ma Zhaodi.

He was a poor ghost himself; the 50,000 dollars in his hand could only splash a little water in this place, not enough for anything; no matter how high-end or luxurious the entertainment here was, it had nothing to do with him, visible but untouchable.

"That dog of a supervisor must be earning a lot." He grumbled angrily: "If I had known, I would have just angered him to death back then; at least that would have been removing a harm for the people."

However, his name did prove somewhat useful; the shooting range really gave him a thirty percent discount, the fee wasn't expensive, just a few dozen dollars a day—for extreme cost-performance, he always played and practiced there until dark before going home.

"The car is actually refurbished quite well and drives comfortably, but the Basic Car Driving Proficiency only lets me control the body when speeding to 100 km/h; the feeling of driving home for over half an hour is really uncomfortable."

"Hey! Watch it! Poor ghost!"

Just as Ma Ma Zhaodi slowed down and drove slowly over a roadside ditch, a trench-coated man holding a woman on the sidewalk suddenly frowned and shouted loudly at him: "Don't splash water on my clothes and shoes!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi turned his head to look; the man's brown trench coat did seem to be made of fine material, the crisp suit inside and the shiny belt at his waist were high-end brand quality, and the expensive leather shoes on the street looked equally valuable; he had slowed down a bit late and indeed seemed to have splashed a few mud spots near his leather shoes.

Should I apologize then?

"Shabi."

Ma Ma Zhaodi was concise with his words, raised his left hand to give him the middle finger, then immediately stepped on the car's accelerator; the engine sound made the man instinctively protect the blonde woman beside him and dodge quickly; the two narrowly dodged to the side, finally avoiding being splashed by the water kicked up by the tires.

"It must be a poor ghost from the East District." He cursed angrily, then turned to comfort the beauty beside him: "Darling, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The blonde woman nestled in his arms: "Richard, what were you just trying to say?"

The man stroked her hair and continued talking about the serious matter he had just wanted to say: "Oh, I was saying, let's leave Gotham City for a while and find a small place in Paris—what do you think?"

The woman's eyebrows and eyes immediately overflowed with the light of surprise: "Really? Paris in autumn, I can hardly imagine how romantic it would be there!"

"Richard!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi heard someone behind him shouting a name; he was currently somewhat on edge, actually thought carefully for a moment, confirmed that this name did not seem to be an important figure in his impression, and then continued to safely return his attention to the road.

"Richard Daniel!"

The man turned around in confusion: "What's wrong, who—"

"Da da da da—"

"Holy crap, why did I run into a gunfight again!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi felt like he was about to crack; he had been sent here to practice shooting precisely because he ran into a gunfight, but damn it, the coach hadn't mentioned that there would be a consolidation practice course on the way home after finishing shooting practice.

He stepped hard on the accelerator as if fleeing, while watching the situation behind him from the rearview mirror from a distance: the barrel of a submachine gun sticking out of a black car spat fire, and a string of bullets turned the man, whose face was full of shock and unwillingness, into a bloody mess within a few seconds; afterwards, that black car stepped on the accelerator and left in a hurry, disappearing at the end of the streets in the Burnley District.

"So I always said, if you are cheap, heaven will collect you." Ma Ma Zhaodi shook his head: "Be careful in your next life, don't be so foul-mouthed."

With such injuries, there was no need to think about saving him; even if Ma Ma Zhaodi had enough asset points now and was willing to run down the car at high speed to treat him, it would likely already be too late; in those ten-plus seconds of running over, the person was likely already dead as a doornail.

The blonde woman beside Richard was not hit by the bullets; she was now sobbing loudly while holding the blood-stained body on the ground; she didn't expect these two to be a real couple, and this woman seemed to really like Richard.

But unfortunately, bullets only follow physics; bulletproof vests can stop bullets, but love cannot.

Ma Ma Zhaodi drove the car back to Drake's house; although the fool who made him angry had died a violent death, his mood at this moment was not particularly good, partly because of that poor blonde girl, and partly because that man did not deserve to die.

But neither of these was what troubled him the most; what troubled him the most was how could things be so coincidental, that he had just had a brief argument and conflict with the other party for ten-plus seconds, and the result was the other party was shot dead.

Tomorrow the Gotham Police Department would inevitably launch an investigation; Ma Ma Zhaodi would definitely be dragged to the police station to give a statement; just for a ten-plus second argument, an entire weekend day was gone.

The silver lining in this misfortune was that tomorrow was not a workday; otherwise, if being detained for a statement delayed a whole day of work, Ma Ma Zhaodi would truly be heartbroken over those few hundred asset points.

"Ah, even after transmigrating, I can't escape the fate of a wage-slave with the smell of work; this Cao Dan world, this Cao Dan Gotham."

He opened the door with no will to live, silently sat at the table, and began to enjoy his dinner, thinking in his heart about how many people Batman would hang on the statue tonight.

"What's wrong, old buddy?" Drake, who hadn't entered the house yet, saw his face was different and couldn't help but ask instinctively.

"Nothing, ran into another gunfight on the way back."

"Are you okay?"

"Hey, what kind of talk is that." Ma Ma Zhaodi rolled his eyes at him: "How many gunfights chasing after me are there? I've only been in Gotham for a few days; what big shot could I have offended? Only one unlucky guy named Richard Daniel died at the scene, no one else."

"Hm?" Drake's expression turned Solemn: "Who died?"

"Richard Daniel, what's wrong?"

"Holy crap, the president of Gotham Bank was assassinated right after resigning!"

"Ah?"

Read a bit of the comic, catch up on the plot a bit, updates are slower, please forgive me.

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(End of this chapter)