The Musketeers #2

Vincent was ready to yell out as many colorful insults as possible if it was not for Arthur, practically unscathed from his wife's gigantic fireball. He took it with complete confidence that it wouldn't affect him. he couldn't say the same for the ground around him, however.

"Hmph!" Sabine huffed, satisfied. "You're at the level of a Three-circle mage. Not bad."

Arthur rolled his eyes, stopping the flow of magic power.  "Sure, that's good to know."

"Although I'm glad to know that im, not a weakling, and am on par with most second-years in the academy, despite not possessing magic circles, how did she know im a specialist?''

Magic circles, the physical embodiment of mana manifested into discs of magic power. These discs are incredibly delicate for Mages and Magic warriors as they are the source of their power. Although the circles are different for both, in tandem with magic nerves and channels, they function as the power core of both.

Sabine took her cigarette and had a large puff. "Based on your body language, I'm betting you're surprised I knew you were. right?"

"She saw straight through me." Arthur just sighed. "Yeah, I haven't been spotted in the Academy yet-- Except that old hag, Tch! it pisses me off --so imagine my surprise."

Alexander and Vincent gasped. "You're not eighteen?"

"No, I'm sixteen. Anyways, why did you throw me a fireball?"

"Nah, I just saw how you exerted magic when Alexander was hit." Sabine just hummed. "That movement in tandem with the magic in his body... Alexander, where did you pick up such a monster?"

"Yeah! you pack quite a punch there kiddo!" The Muscular man in the ring guffawed. "But as I said, you lack proper basics. Although your mind is in the right place, your body is not."

Arthur nodded understandingly. "Yes sir."

"Now! we'll be drilling your basics, alright? Back to square one you go." Alexander proclaimed, giving Arthur a small pat on the back.

The large man jumped out of the ring and into the Boy's view. "Just so you're aware, Training will be difficult until you are worthy enough of becoming my descendant."

Vincent sighed, fixing his glasses. "I can say the same," he said, approaching Arthur with a repeating lever action rifle. "You can have a proper spar with Alexander when he's finally healed. As you can see, his wounds are worse."

Arthur nodded understanding at the gentleman, as he looked back at the gangster, who tore open the meticulous stitches set by Vincent just the night prior. 

The large man just laughed his pain away. "That's it for today, I'll pass you on to Vincent."

"Yes sir." Arthur nodded, his reply firm and obedient.

the bartender just smiled at the boy's understanding. "Now, If you would follow me to firing range--"

"Now hold on just a minute!" Sabine interrupted, walking over to both men. She pointed at Arthur with her gloved right hand. "You! be my disciple!"

"Uhh....." Arthur looked at Vincent, who shared his thought. "Hm, you're learning how to fight like Alexander; to shoot like me, and to use magic like Sabine-- aren't you a lucky boy?"

"You make it sound like I don't have a choice." Arthur groaned, giving Sabin a sideways glance. She just leveled his stare with her own.

"I don't like that look, brat."

Just looking at both of them caused a large headache in his head. "When my wife is dead set on something, she will chase after it until the ends of the earth." Vincent sighed, with a faint smirk.

Arthur got the gist of it. "Sounds like you have first-hand experience, don't cha?"

"Of course I do, I married her."

Arthur smiled. "for a group of criminals, they sure are a hearty bunch." He just nodded. "I Accept, any sane person would gladly jump on the opportunity to learn from the Three Musketeers-- Alexander the Great, Vincent the HeadHunter, and Sabine the Fierce."

"Ew, forget that name. I hate it." Sabine huffed, as she walked away. "Try not to shoot each other."

"Will do!" Vincent smiled as his wife retreated to the living space. 

The well-dressed man leads Arthur to the firing range, a surprisingly clean and well-kept firing range. Arthur marveled at the sleek design and treated wood tables. He also noticed the bullet casings in the small bins in each cubicle.

Vincent began talking but Arthur was not paying attention.

Arthur just looked back on the interaction with a pinch of salt. "Must be nice. Come to think of it, I never had a girlfriend in either of my lives. Is it possible to have one now? It is a matchmaking academy after all."

"...Were you paying attention?" The man asked, irked. In his hand was a revolver, made of black steel and golden engravings. The grip was made of textured rubber and molded for large hands-- perfect for Arthur.

"Nope, sorry. I was enjoying the place." Arthur apologized.

Vincent sighed, holding the large revolver. Just from the size of the cylinder, Arthur could tell it fired off a familiar caliber.  Looking at where Vincent was positioned In the closest cubicle, overlooking a target about five meters from the table.

"You want me to shoot it?"

The large man sighed again, this time more exasperatedly. "I'll start from the beginning. You are to shoot the target in the head, twelve times-- and I will judge your performance."

He held the gun again for his explanation. "This is a custom firearm, plagiarized from Brown's Python. It has a ten-inch barrel and can accommodate six .357 caliber bullets." Vincent explained again, this time much more annoyed. "It has functions both in double and single actions."

Arthur sighed, receiving the gun. He inspected the chamber to find it loaded, and the table to find six bullets arranged. "So an accuracy test, speed test, and dexterity test?"

The man adjusted his glasses. "You are quite perceptive. Yes, it is as you say."

With a shrug, he did as he was told, slowly reloading the weapon while admiring its designs. 

"I just remembered something funny. The game developers were actually planning on using the original logos and brand names, but during the time of its development all of the major companies declined them and some even ridiculed them."

Arthur loaded the sixth chamber and locked it in place with a flick of his wrist. Hoisting the iron sights to his right eye, Arthur glared straight into the dummy target's forehead.

"To their dismay, when the game launched, blowing up the internet, most of them were so desperate to get a piece of the action and some were even taking legal action."

Vincent observed how his expression changed from boredom to fierce amusement. "Interesting.." he hummed. "He is quite an interesting boy indeed."

"That's the reason why most of the things in this world have somewhat awkward and familiar names for things." Arthur steadied his breath. "Unlike them, I'm going to grasp at any fortunate chance that'll come my way."

His right arm was stretched forward and his left was in his left pocket. 

bang!

The gunshot rang loudly, but the echo disappeared quickly. Vincent observed the boy's shock at the power of his custom weapon and the power of the bullet, completely eviscerating the target.

"Ha...Haha..." the boy chuckled, his arm bent at a ninety-degree angle. "That kicked hard..."

"Every bullet has been customized for lethality, naturally, it should." He said, pulling a lever.

Arthur watched as the range's light system turned on, exposing hundreds of targets all positioned at various distances. Without further instruction, Arthur stiffened his right arm now aware of the power behind the bullets.

He smirked with glee as he proceeded to gun down the metal targets, making loud clanging sounds.

PIng! Clang! Tank! Pangg!

"His recoil control is superb, but his accuracy is terrifying," Vincent whispered, glancing over the metal targets. All six of them had dents dead center in their painted targets.

When the sixth bullet had been expended, Arthur flicked the handgun, exposing the cylinder. He punched out the casings, listening to the satisfying brass casings jingle against the wooden table.

"That's what im talking about." He grinned, smoothly reloading the six bullets with ease.

"For such rough and large hands, they're surprisingly delicate and dextrous. What a smooth reload." Vincent noted, watching intently.

Arthur finished all twelve rounds. "Twelve for twelve! How did I do?"

Vincent watched the boy gleam with pride and huffed.]

 "Your recoil control is extraordinary, Your Accuracy was exemplary, your form was unorthodox, but your firing speed was abysmal," he reported, his tone of emotion starting from impressed before nosediving into grave disappointment.

He watched Arthur's face scrunch up in confusion mixed with irritating surprise. "What?! I barely had any hiccups in between shots!" he defended

Vincent swayed his head from side to side, the boy was not wrong-- but neither was he. His firing speed, compared to vincent's, was abysmal. The old man approached the irritated boy and reached for his gun. 

Arthur returned it, only to watch the olden master perform his perfected craft.

Vincent took six bullets from the bin and reloaded six almost in an instant. 

The boy widened his eyes in shock. "I barely saw it, but he reloaded three bullets at a time." 

Just as he processed the sequence of moves, Vincent already raised his gun and fired all six rounds.

Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Dat!

Arthur could only gape in awe, but Vincent was not done yet. With his right hand, he released the cylinder and swung it out; looping his right thumb in the frame, he punched out the empty casings with the same thumb and reloaded the next six cartridges with his left hand.

 Vincent reloaded and fired all six rounds again.

Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Dat!

"Holy shit..." Arthur could barely exclaim. "If im not wrong, he shot twelve rounds with a reload-- in six seconds..."

The man placed the gun down and smirked at the boy triumphant. "To be my heir, you must master proper form, accuracy, speed, and recoil control. Am I understood?"

The man watched the boy smile, baring his teeth like a grin. "Crystal," Arthur replied.

Vincent smiled. "Good. Now let's see how you perform with the other firearms. The night is still young."