*Chapter 31: Disaster Strikes Out of Nowhere*

Practice shooting? Practice my ass.

Although Cody really wanted to say that, his current shooting skill level honestly wasn't quite good enough yet.

If he hadn't bought the Basic Firearms Proficiency skill, that shot he took at the chandelier back then might've missed and hit the manager instead.

The old-school Gotham thugs got their shooting skills from decades of gunfights, and while catching up to them in just a few weekends wasn't likely, he still needed to learn. Stuff like this just builds up over time, you know?

Of course, there was a faster way.

Cody opened the system store, looked at the Intermediate Firearms Proficiency skill priced at $5,000, and quietly backed out.

"Actually, when you think about it, taking shortcuts isn't really my style."

...

In the evening, Cody was driving his beloved car down the street. The restaurant manager was kinda messed up, giving him a shooting range address in the Burnley district. This meant he had to drive a long way, specifically going from the East End all the way to Burnley just to practice shooting.

Sure, as a central district of Gotham, the prosperity and cleanliness here were pretty nice to look at. Plenty of entertainment spots and high-end clubs were located here, but none of that meant anything to Cody.

He was a broke guy himself. The fifty thousand dollars he had was just a drop in the bucket in a place like this, not enough for anything. No matter how fancy or luxurious the entertainment was here, it had nothing to do with him, stuff he could see but couldn't touch.

"That jerk manager must make a ton of money," he muttered resentfully. "If I'd known, I would've just pissed him off 'til he died back then. At least that would count as doing the public a service."

His name did come in handy, though. The shooting range actually gave him a 70% discount, so the cost wasn't bad, just a few dozen bucks a day. For maximum value, he stayed there... practicing until dark before heading home.

"The car was actually refurbished pretty well, and it's comfortable enough to drive. But the Basic Driving Proficiency only lets me control the car when I'm maxing out at 100 mph. Driving home for over half an hour feels really rough..."

"Hey! Watch it! You broke loser!"

Just as Cody was slowing down his car, slowly driving over a puddle by the side of the road, a man in a trench coat with a woman on his arm, walking on the sidewalk, suddenly frowned and yelled at him, "Don't splash water on my clothes and shoes!"

Cody turned his head to look. The guy's brown trench coat did look like it was made of quality material. The sharp suit underneath and the shiny belt around his waist also looked like high-end brands. The expensive leather shoes he was wearing on the street looked just as valuable. He'd slowed down a bit too late, and it seemed like he did splash a few mud spots near the guy's shoes.

So, should I apologize?

"Asshole."

Cody kept it short and sweet, flipping him off with his left hand, and then immediately stomped on the gas. The sound of the engine made the man instinctively protect the blonde woman next to him and quickly dodge. The two of them narrowly got out of the way, finally not getting splashed by the water kicked up by the tires.

"Must be some broke guy from the East End..." he cursed angrily, then turned to comfort the beauty beside him. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm okay," the blonde woman snuggled into his arms. "Richard, what were you just going to say?"

The man gently stroked her hair and continued talking about the important thing he was about to say. "Oh, I was going to say, how about we leave Gotham for a while, find a little place in Paris? What do you think?"

The woman's eyes immediately lit up with surprise. "Really? Paris in the fall, I can't even imagine how romantic that would be!"

"Richard!"

Cody heard someone calling a name behind him. He was feeling a bit jumpy at the moment, and he actually thought about it carefully. After confirming that the name didn't seem to be an important figure he knew of, he confidently put his attention back on the road.

"Richard Daniel!"

The man turned his head back, a little confused. "What's up, who..."

"Tat-tat-tat-tat—"

"Holy hell, how did I run into a gunfight again!"

Cody felt like he was about to lose it. He was sent here to practice shooting precisely because he ran into a gunfight! But damn it, the coach didn't mention there'd be practical reinforcement exercises on the way home after practicing!

He stomped on the gas like he was escaping, and incidentally watched the situation behind him from the rearview mirror from a distance. Half a submachine gun barrel sticking out of a black car spat fire. A string of bullets turned the man, who was full of shock and unwillingness, into a bloody mess in seconds. Afterward, the black car sped away, disappearing at the end of the street in Burnley.

"See? I told you, karma always catches up to jerks..." Cody shook his head. "Next life, be careful, and stop running your mouth."

There was no point thinking about saving someone with injuries like that. Even if Cody had enough asset points now and was willing to run out of the car quickly to treat him, it would most likely be too late. In the ten-odd seconds it would take to run over, the person would most likely be as dead as can be.

The blonde woman next to Richard wasn't hit by bullets. She was now holding the bloody body on the ground and sobbing loudly. He hadn't expected these two were actually a real couple. This woman also seemed to genuinely like Richard.

Too bad though, bullets only care about physics. Bulletproof vests can stop bullets, but love can't.

Cody drove back to Drake's place. Although the idiot who pissed him off had died a violent death, his mood wasn't particularly good at the moment. Partly because of the poor blonde girl, and partly because the man didn't deserve to die.

But neither of those was what bothered him the most. What bothered him the most was how coincidental it was. He had just had a brief quarrel and conflict with the guy for a few seconds, and as a result, the guy was shot to death.

The Gotham City Police Department will definitely launch an investigation tomorrow. Cody will definitely be dragged to the police station to give a statement. Just because of a few seconds of argument, a whole day of his weekend was gone.

The silver lining in this misfortune was that tomorrow wasn't a workday. Otherwise, if giving a statement like this took up a whole day of work time, Cody would truly feel heartbroken over those few hundred asset points.

"Ah, even after crossing over, I can't escape the fate of a grunt smelling like the office. This damn world, this damn Gotham..."

He listlessly opened the door, quietly sat down a t the table, and started eating his dinner, wondering in his mind how many people Batman would hang on statues tonight.

"What's up, man?" Drake, who hadn't entered the house yet, saw his unusual expression and couldn't help but ask.

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

"You okay?"

"Hey, look who's talking," Cody rolled his eyes at him. "Where would there be so many shootouts chasing after me? I've only been in Gotham for a few days, who could I have pissed off? Only one poor sap named something like Richard Daniel died on the spot, nobody else."

"Huh?" Drake's expression turned serious. "Who died?"

"Richard Daniel, why?"

"Holy shit, the Gotham Bank president got assassinated right after resigning!"

"Huh?"