Yang Yi had a gun on him, a Glock 17 pistol.
But when it came to his marksmanship compared to his combat abilities, his skills with a gun were abysmally poor. For someone who had hardly ever handled a gun and could count the bullets he’d fired on both hands, it would be a miracle if he were any good at shooting.
So although Yang Yi had a gun, he felt as though he might as well be unarmed. Instead of a pistol, he would have preferred to have a knife, one much better than those homemade ones in prison.
"What kind of weapon do you want, a knife?"
"Yes, I need a good knife, one that suits me."
Brian was evidently very interested in Yang Yi’s choice.
"What kind of knife do you want? A long or short one? A single or double-edged dagger? Are you looking for stealth, or do you prioritize how it feels in your hand? Any particular materials you want for the blade or handle?"
Brian asked a barrage of questions, to which Yang Yi thought about it and said, "I don’t know."
"You don’t know? How can you not know what kind of knife you need?"
"Before I went to prison, I wasn’t good at anything. But I learned a lot there, and the most important was Huaxia Kungfu. A knife is an extension of the arm, an amplifier of lethality. But I never had the chance to experiment and find out which suited me best."
Brian sighed and said, "Alright, what about guns? How’s your shooting? Are you good at close-quarters shooting? Long range? Rapid fire?"
Yang Yi honestly replied, "To tell the truth, I know the models and can recognize them when I see them, but that’s about it."
Brian’s expression turned sour as he said with a grimace, "So you’re saying your shooting is very bad."
Yang Yi spread his hands with an expression of helplessness and said, "I can’t confirm that yet since I’ve hardly ever shot a gun, but, but, uh, you’re right, at least for now my marksmanship is very poor."
Brian took a deep breath, patted Yang Yi on the shoulder, and said gravely, "No matter what you’re planning to do, whether you want to be a spy or an assassin, marksmanship is fundamental. It’s more important than anything else."
"I know, I just never had the chance to practice shooting. Once I find the time, I will practice my marksmanship properly."
Brian exhaled with a look of resignation and said, "If you can’t even shoot, how do you plan to confront an Assassin Organization? I’ve reassessed your abilities: you’re a newbie, a super newbie!"
Yang Yi responded with resignation, "What can I do? Even if I were a genius, I’d need the opportunity to learn and then master a new skill. I’m starting from zero. Everything is new to me, and your concerns are my weaknesses. Brian, my strong point isn’t shooting, but I have my own strengths."
Brian extended his hand, making a gesture as if shooting a gun.
"Bang, you’re dead, it doesn’t matter what your strengths are, you’re dead."
Blowing on his fingertip as if it were a gun barrel, Brian said with a laugh, "Just like a diver needs to learn how to swim first. What’s the point of elegant aerial maneuvers and perfect entry positions if you get drowned once you hit the water?"
Yang Yi said again, helplessly, "I get it! I really do understand what you mean, and I will learn."
Brian shrugged and replied, "Marksmanship isn’t something you learn, it’s something you mold through firing. Any good shooter has been built up from bullets fired. Once you’ve shot a hundred thousand rounds, then you’ll be a good shot, at least not too bad."
"Can we go find a shooting range now so I can practice shooting?"
"That’s too bad. I would definitely practice if I had the chance, but for now, let’s take care of business first."
"I just have a hard time imagining why you’ve never fired a gun, considering you aspire to be a spy."
"In the United States, guns are everywhere, whereas in the environment where I grew up, there were no guns. What could I do?"
"Environmental factors, I get it. But I can’t understand why you went to prison to learn fighting from a convict instead of learning how to use a gun first, which seems more fundamental. Now I’m even more convinced that you are an angel sent by God to save me. Otherwise, none of this makes sense."
"That bastard in jail should have taught me how to shoot; he was also supposed to teach me how to fight. I’m not quite sure how to explain it—it’s that special forces way of fighting, not the spy way. But that bastard got traumatized and ran off, and I still have to find him to have someone teach me all that."
"No need for anyone else. I can teach you. Don’t forget, the person in front of you is the most badass in the world. Oh, this store looks nice. Let’s go in and check it out."
They chatted as they walked, until Brian entered a clothing store.
Brian had a real knack for dressing up. Despite looking like a disheveled old man, he had the heart of a trendy person.
Once he put on a shirt and suited up, even though his beard was unkempt and his hair was a mess, Brian in a new outfit seemed ten years younger.
He threw his old clothes straight into the trash can and walked out in his new clothes, the only thing off being his sneakers, which clashed with his outfit. But once Brian changed into socks and leather shoes, what was left for him to attend to was his appearance.
Brian was picky; he was about to get a haircut, but upon realizing his remaining hair couldn’t be styled to his satisfaction, he kept looking for a place that could make him happy.
After a long taxi ride, Brian finally bought a wig he liked, and only then did he enter a barber shop.
A very upscale barber shop.
Getting a haircut, shaving his beard, and having the barber style his real hair to suit the wig, Brian was meticulous about the details.
Yang Yi also changed his hairstyle while he was at it, but he finished quickly. All that was left was waiting for Brian, which was utterly boring.
Yang Yi silently vowed that this was his first and definitely last time shopping with a man until his feet hurt. As he idled, Brian suddenly stood in front of him.
A crisp suit, a pristine white shirt, shiny leather shoes, and a thick head of brown hair—when Brian stood in front of Yang Yi, Yang really didn’t dare to recognize Brian.
From looking like a seventy-year-old, Brian transformed into a spirited, middle-aged man in his early fifties, dressed properly in both attire and posture, the perfect image of a successful man without a flaw to pick.
After looking him over for a while, Yang Yi finally nodded, "Not bad, very good."
Brian smiled slightly and said, "Great, then let’s pay."
After paying and leaving the barber shop, Yang Yi let out a sigh, "Can we finally go buy the knife I like now?"
Brian raised his left hand and said, "No, look at how I’m dressed. Didn’t you notice I’m missing a watch? If a knife is going to be your final weapon, then you should be more careful about choosing your most important weapon. We’ll cross the border tonight, and once we’re in the United States, I’ll get you the knife that suits you best. But for now, let’s go buy a watch."