Marcus blinked, caught off guard.
"The range is open, sure, but don't you cops already have one at the station?"
Luke couldn't exactly say he was there to grind experience. Instead he let his eyes linger on the impressive wall of hardware behind Marcus.
"Truth is, I've always loved guns. Hell, it's half the reason I joined the academy."
He slipped on the mask of a hardcore gun nut, voice full of genuine enthusiasm.
"But you know how the station is. Unless you're the chief, you're stuck with junk. Your stuff here? That's the real deal. I figured I'd test it out while I had the chance."
The line hit Marcus right in his sweet spot. His beard shook with a booming laugh.
"Haha! Didn't know you were a fellow enthusiast, Officer Luke. Co on, you've got good taste. These babies aren't mass-produced garbage. Every one's been tuned by my own hands."
They talked guns for a while. Marcus, clearly enjoying himself, led Luke straight to the range.
He was still enthusiastically pointing out features when Luke started shooting.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Brass casings clattered across the concrete. The sharp sll of gunpowder filled the air fast.
Marcus kept up the comntary at first, but his voice faded. His expression shifted from excited to surprised, then straight into stunned silence.
Luke emptied a magazine, dropped the pistol, grabbed a Beretta, and kept going.
Submachine guns. Assault rifles. Shotguns.
He ran through every weapon on the range without stopping. The gunfire never let up.
Marcus stared at the mountain of spent brass piling past his ankles. A muscle in his cheek twitched hard.
"Uh… Officer Luke? You maybe wanna take a break? Grab so water?"
Luke shook his head and snatched up another submachine gun.
Finally, after nonstop shooting, the familiar panel lit up in his vision.
[Specialty: Police Marksmanship LV3 (MAX): Physique Bonus 0.3]
[Specialty reached maximum level. New ability unlocked: Non-lethal Shooting]
[Non-lethal Shooting: Your marksmanship, honed through years of police work, grants massive accuracy when aiming at non-vital areas.]
Hell yeah.
Luke felt the change instantly—like his control over every firearm had clicked up another notch. The physique boost was nice, but the real win was the gun skill.
He squeezed off a few more rounds and grinned. The difference was night and day.
Now he could put rounds on target at a hundred ters, rapid fire, with serious consistency.
Marcus looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Officer Luke, your shooting… it's almost as good as those instructors who've burned through hundreds of thousands of rounds."
Luke set the hot pistol down and flexed his wrist, smiling.
"Flattery'll get you everywhere. Just good hands, that's all."
"This ain't 'good hands,'" Marcus said, shaking his head in open admiration.
He stepped forward and clapped Luke on the shoulder.
"Brother, you ever wanna play with guns again, just co by. I'll keep you swimming in ammo."
Clarice walked up right then.
She took in the wrecked range and the energized Luke, one eyebrow rising.
"Looks like you're ward up. We good to head out?"
Luke flashed a bright grin.
"Damn right. I've been waiting for this."
They headed back to the armory. Luke started strapping gear onto his tactical vest.
He glanced at Clarice doing the sa and tossed her a casual warning.
"Bring everything you can carry. Those cult freaks already have us in their sights. Could kick off any second."
Clarice nodded and pulled on her own body armor. She was hungry to prove herself, to beco a real FBI agent.
The car pulled away from the laundromat and headed west.
Miami stayed its usual brand of insane.
They'd barely turned the next corner when they hit a high-speed chase—cops screaming after a gaudy muscle car, guns blazing.
Clarice yanked the wheel, cut down a narrow alley, and left the ss behind like it was nothing.
"So how many people do you think this cult actually has?" she asked while driving.
Luke thought for a second, then shook his head.
"Numbers don't matter. What matters is how many monsters like Myers they've got running around."
Clarice shivered at the mory of Myers.
"I just want to drag every last one of them in. They've hurt enough people."
"No, Clarice. That's where you're wrong."
She shot him a surprised look.
"Why?"
Luke's voice stayed calm and flat.
"I know how Arican justice works. Toss these psychos in prison and it's basically a free vacation. We're clear on this—once we confirm they're cult, no warnings. We put them down."
Clarice froze for half a beat. Then, like the trained agent she was, she gave a sharp nod.
"Understood."
They rolled up to the old record factory. The place looked dead—no lights, no movent, just years of neglect.
Luke walked to the front gate. A heavy padlock hung there, thick with rust.
He grabbed it and squeezed.
Snap!
The corroded lock shattered in his hand.
They pushed through the doors and found rows of old record-pressing machines.
"Got it. This is the place."
Clarice checked the serial numbers on the machines and quickly found the one the cult had used. She gave it a thorough search.
Nothing.
"The power's in the content, not the machine," Luke said. "Find the ledgers. We need to know who ordered the pressing and who bought the records."
They made their way to the manager's office and dug up a dusty old ledger.
Page after page. Then one na stopped both of them cold.
Client: Shark Renovation Company.
Everything clicked into place at once.
The singing in the prison walls. Room 1408 at the Dolphin Hotel.
Every clue lined up.
A renovation company could slip into any building and work their magic without anyone noticing.
Right then, clear footsteps echoed across the empty factory floor.
"Who's there?"
Luke barked the words and spun, charging toward the sound.
He burst into the central courtyard and found a figure in a wide black robe standing with his back to him—like he'd been waiting.
The man turned slowly. The hood kept his face in shadow. His voice ca out hoarse and feverish.
"The Pure One… you've co."
"We've been waiting for you."
"Cut the bullshit."
Luke had zero interest in the monologue. He yanked out the massive experintal pistol and fired.
BOOM!
The shot thundered through the abandoned plant. The hooded figure dropped instantly.
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