44: Chapter 44: The True Showdown of Gun Kings!

Anna and Elizabeth changed into gorgeous Western-style dresses and followed Lin Tian to the VIP stands.

Looking at the dense, endless sea of people below, the two little girls widened their eyes in amazement.

In all their lives, this was the first time they had ever witnessed such a massive spectacle with tens of thousands of people gathered in one place.

In the center of the arena, an official from the Rifle Association was shouting to maintain order.

On the wide, level lawn, fifty rows of shooting tables were neatly arranged.

The three sides were surrounded by newly erected steel-structured stands.

Directly in front stood a temporary wooden platform for speeches.

According to the competition rules, the contest was divided into three rounds.

The first round was for fixed targets.

Contestants stood at the tables and used their own rifles to shoot at targets 300 meters away.

They had to fire ten shots within a minute and a half.

After firing, anyone with a score below 70 points would be directly eliminated.

Just this one strict rule alone was enough to eliminate more than half of the amateurs.

The second round was a 100-meter moving speed shooting event.

The shooters had to advance 100 meters, and within 40 seconds, thirty moving targets would pop up randomly; they needed to hit twenty-five to pass.

The final round was clay pigeon shooting.

Staff would throw thirty clay pigeons into the sky, and whoever shattered the most would be the overall champion.

The rules sounded simple, but trying to snatch first place from a group of battle-hardened veterans and Western cowboys was absolutely as difficult as ascending to heaven.

When the time struck 8:30.

Boom!

A thunderous salute echoed through the sky.

The first competition officially began.

The mayor of Chicago, Chairman Elton of the Rifle Association, and the headline sponsor, Lin Tian, walked onto the wooden speaking platform side by side.

The gentlemen and ladies in the stands immediately erupted into enthusiastic applause.

The mayor pressed his hands down and spoke first:

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Chicago! As your host, I represent all the citizens in expressing our most sincere gratitude to the Lin-Browning Arms Company and Mr. Bruce. Thank you for bringing this grand event to our beautiful Chicago!"

Standing behind him, Lin Tian and Elton clapped along.

After the applause died down slightly, the mayor cleared his throat and continued:

"Rifle shooting has always been a glorious tradition of our USA! From the colonial era to the War of Independence, and then to the westward expansion, the rifle has been our most loyal comrade-in-arms!"

"We rely on it to hunt and fill our bellies, and we rely on it to drive away the savage Indians. It can be said that shooting is not just a sport, but the very foundation of our nation!"

Speaking to the end, the mayor deliberately raised his voice an octave:

"Additionally, we must thank Mr. Bruce for creating the model 1882 lin rifle!"

"Don't misunderstand, folks, this isn't a paid commercial. Actually, I bought one myself and hung it in my study. Believe me, once you touch it, you will absolutely fall in love with the feeling of firing it!"

The mayor's witty speech made the entire audience burst into laughter.

Many cowboys who hadn't bought the new gun yet, hearing the mayor's praise, immediately decided they had to go to a gun shop after the competition to buy one and satisfy their craving.

Having the mayor personally endorse it was definitely the best gold-plated signboard.

After finishing his speech, the mayor stepped aside and yielded the spot to Lin Tian.

In the stands, Anna and Elizabeth quickly raised their dainty ladies' binoculars, excitedly looking toward the center of the wooden platform.

Lin Tian scanned the crowd and spoke in a clear, loud voice:

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor, for your kindness toward Lin-Browning firearms. Our Lin-Browning Arms Company promises to provide the people of the USA with the most advanced firearms and the highest quality service!"

"I can say with great confidence that even those self-proclaimed noble European gentlemen cannot build a better gun than ours!"

"Think about it carefully, even the ever-arrogant The British, the pieces of junk they use are no match for ours! Ladies and gentlemen, isn't this something for all of us in the USA to be proud of?"

...

Don't look at how the USA and The British are thick as thieves in later generations; right now, the two countries are bitter rivals.

The British consider themselves to be of noble blood and, from the bottom of their hearts, despise the people of the USA as uncultured country bumpkins.

In business, they apply pressure every day, hoping that the USA will lower tariffs so they can dump their industrial products here.

In these times, if a citizen of the USA didn't curse The British a few times, they would be too embarrassed to greet their neighbors when stepping outside.

Lin Tian's straightforward words struck a chord with the foreigners present.

Everyone felt a great sense of pride.

No matter how you boast, at least the rifles we are holding are better than you, The British!

Thinking about how The British, who claim to be the Empire on which the sun never sets, are still playing with backward black powder, everyone couldn't help but laugh.

Lin Tian took the opportunity to flatter the Chicago City Hall a bit, drawing rounds of cheers.

Subsequently, Chairman Elton of the National Rifle Association stepped onto the high platform and loudly announced the official start of the competition.

Accompanied by the salute cannons, the arena gates opened, and staff led the contestants in line to enter.

On the first day of the competition, the scene was packed with people, and a total of 4,998 contestants arrived.

In fact, there were far more people who signed up, but more than half were eliminated because they didn't have time to re-register.

Otto from New York was assigned to the twentieth group.

After waiting outside for an hour, he strode into the arena.

He completely ignored the clamor in the stands, remaining as steady as Mount Tai.

Walking to the shooting position, he placed the model 1882 lin rifle he brought steadily on the table, looked up, and focused intently on the target 300 meters away.

Although the competition didn't specify which gun must be used, if one didn't bring a model 1882, they were destined to embarrass themselves today.

Because only this gun on the market was equipped with 7.62mm smokeless ammunition.

If one used an old gun with black powder, the range wouldn't even reach the 300-meter target, let alone meet the harsh requirement of firing ten shots within a minute and a half.

A few men who thought their marksmanship was good and came to compete with old firearms, after understanding the rules, cursed at the organizers and eventually had to slink away and withdraw.

Otto was not nervous at all.

What he held in his hand was the magical weapon his wife had sold her long hair to exchange for, carrying the hopes of his entire family.

He skillfully loaded the smokeless ammunition and carefully checked the sights.

He had practiced this set of shooting movements countless times at home.

The referee raised the starting pistol high.

Bang!

A crisp gunshot pierced the sky.

Fifty shooters pulled their triggers simultaneously.

The sound of gunfire instantly merged into one, deafening.

After firing five rounds, Otto quickly ejected the magazine and reloaded the magazine with lightning speed.

The entire sequence of actions was fluid and smooth, taking only twenty-five seconds.

There was more than enough time.

He shouldered the rifle again, steadied his breathing, and continuously worked the bolt and fired; the actions were done in one go, without the slightest hesitation.

"Mr. Otto from Brooklyn, New York, total score 98 points, temporarily ranking first among all contestants!"

As soon as the target marker shouted this, the entire arena instantly boiled over, and cheers soared to the sky.

Sitting in the VIP seats, Lin Tian couldn't help but look at this man in his forties a few more times.

Ten shots, 300 meters away, 98 points in a minute and a half.

This accuracy was simply divine.

In later generations, even an Olympic champion might not have this level of skill.

You have to know, before Otto appeared, the highest score was only 88 points.

Otto had forcibly raised the record by a full ten points, creating a crushing lead.

Tom, the sharpshooter acting as a bodyguard, stood in the open space, watching Otto sling his rifle over his shoulder and walk off the field with a serious face, secretly admiring him in his heart.

Even he, an expert who played with guns, felt inferior.

Just when everyone thought Otto had secured the top spot in the first round and no one could break the record, an even more terrifying score emerged!