45: Chapter 45 The Western Female Gun Queen! The Poor Man's Sharpshooter!

"Miss Annie from Cincinnati, ninety-nine points! Surpassing Mr. Otto, she takes first place!"

Once the results were out, the whole arena was in an uproar.

It turned out that the record-breaker was actually a female sharpshooter!

Lin Tian looked toward the source of the target announcement.

On the field, a young woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sporting curly hair was waving confidently to the stands.

Anna and Elizabeth, sitting beside Lin Tian, were both holding binoculars, their mouths agape in shock.

"Good heavens, even her worst shot hit nine points!" Anna exclaimed loudly, her eyes full of admiration.

Lin Tian pondered for a moment and immediately recognized the true identity of this female sharpshooter.

In the USA, her fame was absolutely no less than Hua Mulan in China.

She traveled everywhere with her husband and was a legendary professional sharpshooter, a true heroine of the West—Annie.

When this woman was eight, she could blow a squirrel's head off with a single shot from an old-fashioned rifle.

In the future, she would even perform her unique skills for the heads of state of various European countries.

The most famous instance was when she shot the cigarette butt out of the German Emperor's mouth with a single shot.

There were even unofficial historical anecdotes joking that if her hand had shaken just a little bit, perhaps the First World War might never have started.

Later, even big figures like Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and the President of France became her fans.

"I didn't expect it to be this Western heroine!"

Lin Tian murmured silently in his heart.

Lin Tian felt that letting such a sharpshooter just perform was a complete waste of talent.

He was tempted to recruit her.

But on second thought, with her heroic demeanor and the adoration she received, she might not be willing to work under someone else.

By comparison, Otto, who ranked second in the first round, had a humbler background and should be easier to recruit.

Anyway, there was no rush; he would wait until the competition was completely over.

The first round ended quickly.

Out of nearly five thousand people, only one-fiftieth of the top performers advanced to the second round.

That was about a hundred people.

The rules for the second round were 100-meter moving rapid-fire shooting.

The shooters had to advance one hundred meters, and within forty seconds, thirty moving targets would randomly pop up on the field.

Hitting twenty-five was considered passing.

Because the magazine of the model 1882 lin rifle could only hold five bullets, there definitely wouldn't be time to reload midway.

Therefore, the Rifle Association had set up six tables along the 100-meter track in advance, each with a model 1882 lin rifle fully loaded with bullets.

It was contestant number thirty, Otto's turn to take the stage.

He took a deep breath.

Being outperformed by Annie in the first round, it would be a lie to say he felt no pressure.

But he wasn't panicked at all.

For his wife, for his whole family, he firmly believed that he could definitely win.

The referee raised the gun and gave the signal.

Otto kicked off hard with his back foot, kicking up a spray of dirt, and rushed to the first table like an arrow shot from a bowstring.

At the same time, five targets popped up on the grass.

Bang, bang, bang! He grabbed the gun, pulled the bolt repeatedly, and fired decisively.

In just five seconds, he emptied the magazine.

He didn't even look at the targets, dropped the gun, and ran straight to the second table.

Grab the gun, fire, and keep charging forward.

The actions were exactly the same.

When he crossed the finish line, the results were announced on the spot.

It only took him thirty-eight seconds to finish shooting at the thirty moving targets.

And he hit a full twenty-eight!

Without any suspense, he advanced smoothly.

Immediately after, the center of everyone's attention, Annie, took the stage.

The stands immediately erupted in thunderous cheers.

Anna and Elizabeth were waving their little hands excitedly, jumping up and down, having completely become her little fans.

However, Annie struggled a bit in this round.

Her marksmanship was indeed superb, but this kind of mobile combat where she had to shoot while running was clearly not her strong suit.

After a lot of effort, she barely managed to fire twenty-six bullets within the allotted time and hit twenty-six targets.

Fortunately, she passed the threshold and advanced to the final showdown of the third round without any major mishaps.

The second round eliminated people too ruthlessly; out of over a hundred elites, only five people remained.

They were Otto from New York, Annie from Cincinnati, a local cowboy from Chicago, and two shooters from Philadelphia.

The remaining three participants had bottom-tier scores in the first two rounds and only advanced due to pure luck.

The audience's eyes were all focused on the poor man from New York, Otto, and the poor girl, Annie.

"Come on, Annie! Show these men what you're made of!"

"Otto, beat her! Rifles are men's toys; women should go home and breastfeed!"

Supporters from both sides were shouting at each other in the stands, and the atmosphere was heated.

...

The third round was clay pigeon shooting.

The distance was set at fifty meters.

Staff members stood ready, holding crates of wooden clay pigeons.

The rules were similar to the Olympic clay pigeon shooting of later generations.

Each person had thirty chances to fire, and whoever broke the most was the grand champion.

The local cowboy who went first had decent marksmanship, but the clay pigeons were too fast.

Out of thirty chances, he only broke fifteen.

His hit rate was just over half.

Otto went up second.

He raised his rifle, and his whole being seemed to merge with the piece of iron in his hands.

The staff member suddenly threw a clay pigeon into mid-air.

Otto stared at the clay pigeon without blinking, and when it reached its highest point, he pulled the trigger decisively.

Bang!

The wooden disc in mid-air instantly shattered into pieces.

One shot after another, the muzzle spat fire, as if he were divinely assisted.

All thirty clay pigeons, not a single one was missed; he shattered them all in mid-air!

After firing the last shot, Otto, due to extreme mental tension, collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily.

Annie, who went third, looked at Otto in shock: "Your marksmanship is absolutely amazing!"

Otto muttered silently in his heart: "It's not the marksmanship that's amazing; it's my wife's love protecting me!"

In the end, this female sharpshooter broke twenty-nine clay pigeons, finishing as the runner-up by a single target.

Annie didn't care about winning or losing at all.

She came to compete just for the fun of it.

She was genuinely impressed by Otto, who was able to beat her.

The competition lasted until dusk before it came to an end.

Elton stood on the high platform and announced loudly: "The grand champion of the first All-American Rifle Competition is Mr. Otto from Brooklyn, New York!"

Amidst the cheers, Elton stuffed the championship certificate and a bank check for fifty thousand dollars into Otto's hand.

Holding this huge sum of money, the forty-something tough guy burst into tears on the spot.

He hugged the rifle in his arms and kept kissing it.

Elton asked him with a smile what his thoughts were now.

Otto suddenly raised the check and shouted his wife's name toward the sky.

Everyone was confused.

Elton asked curiously why.

Otto wiped his tears and said that the new competition rifle in his hand was obtained by his wife cutting off her beautiful long hair.

To support his training in Chicago, the family had emptied every last penny; they couldn't even afford a train ticket for his wife.

Hearing this hidden story, Elton was deeply moved, patted his shoulder, and sighed: "You have a great wife; compared to honor and money, this affection is the true priceless treasure!"

Otto nodded vigorously.

Anna and Elizabeth in the stands, after hearing the story, were moved to tears, their eyes reddening as they kept wiping their tears with handkerchiefs.

Only Lin Tian, sitting next to them, remained expressionless.

Having lived two lifetimes, he had seen too many tear-jerking scripts from various talent shows on TV in his previous life; this scene couldn't trick him into crying at all.

However, Lin Tian didn't notice at all that on the VIP stand not far away, Mr. and Mrs. Ross were secretly sizing them up with a scrutinizing gaze.

James Ross and his wife Sarah had been mixing in New York's upper-class circles for years; how could they not recognize the daughters of Edison and Rockefeller?

Especially Elizabeth.

The oil tycoon Rockefeller was frugal by nature, but every year when he hosted a birthday party for his youngest daughter, he would invite many guests.

As influential figures in the Republican Party, Mr. and Mrs. Ross had naturally been to the estate for drinks.

Just as the competition started, the couple had set their sights on these two little girls.

After half a day of secret observation, they were completely certain that the girl in the white dress was none other than Rockefeller's darling—Elizabeth Sean Rockefeller.

Now the question arose.

What exactly was the relationship between the dignified oil tycoon's precious daughter and this Chinese teenager named Bruce Lin?

Watching the three teenagers chatting and laughing, their relationship seemed intimate and inseparable.

Mr. and Mrs. Ross exchanged a look.

They decided to re-evaluate Lin Tian's strength and must do their best to get closer to this teenager with such immense connections.