Morning came, and Zane packed up his bag and what was left of the stuff that he brought along. This so-called vacation of his reaped plenty of reward from the tasers, to the guns. Now it was time to officially get back home.

Someone knocked on the door. He opened it and saw Tiz standing there, glaring at him. “Morning?” he said.

“Out of the blues, I woke up and saw a message telling me that you’re leaving,” Tiz said.

“Yea, well, vacation’s over so time to get back home,” Zane said, grinning.

Tiz was quick to throw a hand. Yet she missed. Zane could see that flimsy punch even from a mile, not to mention blindfolded.

“You promise me,” Tiz said. Reminding him of his bargain with her.

“I did,” he replied. “Just use it when we meet next time, okay?”

She pouted, not liking how it didn’t go her way. “And what about your girlfriend?” she asked. “Does she know or is she coming along for a sleepover?’

“Yea, it didn’t work out,” he answered. “She isn’t the type to like long-distance relationship. So that was it. Back being single.”

For a second there, he saw Tiz smiling a bit before turning back to that grumpy state. “Isn’t that kind of stupid? You’re just a bridge away and not like there’s an ocean coming between you two,” she said.

“Well going through that bridge is a hassle. She doesn’t like that kind of stuff and she doesn’t have a passport,” Zane said. Making up stuff on the fly.

“That sounds idiotic, and a red flag. I guess you’re better off without her,” she flashed a grin. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift to the train station.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work today?”

“I’m the boss, I can do whatever the hell I want,” she puffed up her chest. Taking pride in being the big man herself.

“Touche,” Zane replied and went along with Tiz’s offer. After a short drive, the Mercedes stopped at the front entrance.

“Thanks for the ride. See you—” he felt the pull to Tiz’s side and the cousin of his suddenly embraced him tightly.

“Thanks for spending some time with me,” she said. Whispering in his ears.

“We’re cousins. Of course I’ll hang out with you,” they parted with both smiling at each other.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked. Her eyes yearned at something on Zane’s face.

“Don’t be crazy,” he poked her at the forehead and pushed her away. “It’s a one-time thing, Tiz, so don’t get overboard.” He went out and closed the door.

Yet he heard her shout from behind. “We’re not blood-related!”

“Still cousins,” he replied as he went through the main entrance. Vanishing in the sea of people.

* * *

He got back home without a hitch. And after cleaning some stuff up, he went out for his training of the day. He arrived at the gun range, and the man couldn’t hide his wide smile that had been staying there for the last forty minutes.

Zane entered the premise and contrary to his expectation there were a lot more people than he thought. In the lobby area alone, he could see a few rifles hanging on the walls in glass displays. They were probably not for sale as Singapore’s gun law allowed no such thing as bearing arms.

He registered at the counter. Taking out his ID, proving he was a citizen and above eighteen in age.

“Would you like to purchase the ‘Try Me’ offer? It’s a package that includes a 9mm firearm rental with twenty rounds of ammunition, and a rifle rental with twenty rounds of 0.22mm ammunition,” the receptionist offered.

“Oh, no thanks. I’ll go with the normal one, the 9mm rental with a hundred rounds,” Zane ordered.

He paid two hundred twenty dollars, and he was led to a shooting range just past a corridor. The first thing that greeted him was the loud and sharp bangs of guns being fired. A strew of metal casings decorated the floor underneath these shooters, while some strayed a bit far from where they were supposed to be. Bulletproof glass partitions stood in between each lane, protecting the shooters from any accidental mishaps.

“Over here,” a lady waved her hand at him at lane lucky number seven. She was petite yet quite bulky for her size. Those tight-fitting outfits only made it obvious for those curves of hers.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca Wong. I’ll be your coach for today,” her smile was warm like the sun, and she wasn’t that bad in terms of her looks. Her long dark brown hair was tied into a ponytail, and she was wearing black skinny jeans and the gun association polo shirt. Looking good enough to eat, Zane thought. And to be honest, it was quite rare to see a Chinese with this amount of curves.

They shook hands, and Rebecca gave his first lesson. The simple do and dont’s in the shooting range and the proper guidelines of what to do when shooting.

After a one-point lesson on the 9mm gun, she then showed him how to shoot properly. Both hands on the grip, feet set shoulder with apart, and toes facing the target. Knees were flexed at an angle and the shooter leaned forward a bit from the waist to the target. And to finish it off, arms straight and readied to pull the trigger.

She blew off a few at the target, and Zane clapped as he saw the holes in the paper silhouette target. Her aim was spot-on. Concentrating at the middle of the torso and a few in the middle of the head.

“Now you try,” she changed the ammo clip and handed over the gun at Zane. He wore the headphone and protective eye gear first before grabbing the 9mm with his hand. It felt heavy similar to the Glock 19 he took from those thugs.

He aimed at the target. Adjusting his stance at the same time while Rebecca corrected a few errors in his stance. Then he pulled. It was quiet as he waited for the moment of impact. The bullet swiftly left the chamber and found its mark. He saw for himself, his bullet hit dead center in the middle of the head of the target. He smiled. And he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Rebecca gave a thumbs-up as she ushered at him to shoot a few more. He exhaled and he squeezed the trigger. Five rounds went off. Surprisingly his shot wasn’t far off from the target.

“Wow, you’re pretty good. Almost all shots hit the target near the center except this one,” Rebecca said. Pointing the stray shot that wasn’t that far from the center. “You sure this is your first time? Cause from what I’m seeing here, your recoil control is pretty good.”

He couldn’t really say he relied on his enhanced strength as a way of negating the recoil. But he did put some more effort in his hand not to get blown away by the recoil. In a way, having strength really made it easier for him to handle the firearm.

The lesson went on. He even bought another hundred rounds of ammo just to make sure he got the basics and feel right. His shot got quicker with the interval between them lessened by a millisecond. Improving drastically just under two hundred shots. The target was riddled with holes with the shots clustered around the torso and the head.

“I can’t believe it,” Rebecca said. Hanging her hands on her waist. “I barely taught you, and you’re shooting like a pro.”

She scanned Zane once again from top to bottom. “Are you sure this is your first time? Or is this your attempt in trying to impress me?” she asked. Subtly biting her lower lip a bit.

Zane looked at her for only a moment before returning his gaze towards the exit. He cleared his throat and glanced back at her. “Believe it or not, it’s my first time. But hey, I’m probably good because you’re a good teacher,” he smiled and he left.

“Wait,” she came in front of him and started scribbling down on a memo pad. She tore it apart and passed it over.

“Call me,” she said.

Zane just smiled as he took his leave. He came back to his apartment and readied himself for his third trip to the new world. He packed light. A few essentials, a few protein bars, and a water bottle. The rest of the space was reserved for his arsenals and future loot. But the most important of all, “it works,” he said. He downloaded Google Translate for offline usage. He was an idiot for not discovering it first because he assumed it to be only usable with a working internet connection. But he guessed it wrong.

The time drew closer. Rather than wearing his leather armor, he wore a shoulder holster to his left with the Glock 19 nestled nicely in the holster. It wasn’t his main weapon as he deemed its usage only during an emergency. He wore the belt holster for his tasers, and last but not least, he held the Blue-Iron dagger in his hand.

“Let’s fucking go,” he said. Then the clock struck eleven, and he said the magic words.

“Warp!”