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I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

Chapter 84: Enchanted Bullet · Oct 26, 2026

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Chapter List (281)

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51 Chapter 51: Black Cat 2026-10-26
52 Chapter 52: Appraiser 2026-10-26
53 Chapter 53: Need One More 2026-10-26
54 Chapter 54: Saint Augustine’s Chapel 2026-10-26
55 Chapter 55: Seven Sages’ Debate 2026-10-26
56 Chapter 56: On Old Age 2026-10-26
57 Chapter 57: Impeachment of Velleius 2026-10-26
58 Chapter 58: The Boundary of Civilization 2026-10-26
59 Chapter 59: Spare the Conquered and Subdue the Proud 2026-10-26
60 Chapter 60: We Are Not Born for Ourselves Alone 2026-10-26
61 Chapter 61: Aunt Isabella 2026-10-26
62 Chapter 62: Debate Week and the Speaker 2026-10-26
63 Chapter 63: Taste Tester 2026-10-26
64 Chapter 64: Forbidden to be Lent Out 2026-10-26
65 Chapter 65: Going Down is Easy, Coming Up is Hard 2026-10-26
66 Chapter 66: Raw Ore 2026-10-26
67 Chapter 67: Second-Class Seat 2026-10-26
68 Chapter 68: Person of the Hour 2026-10-26
69 Chapter 69: On the Ascent in the Veil 2026-10-26
70 Chapter 70: A Veteran’s Advice 2026-10-26
71 Chapter 71: Summer Training 2026-10-26
72 Chapter 72: Tradition 2026-10-26
73 Chapter 73: Watch Out 2026-10-26
74 Chapter 74: Pruning the Branches 2026-10-26
75 Chapter 75: Everyone Gets a Share 2026-10-26
76 Chapter 76: Health Inspection Team 2026-10-26
77 Chapter 77: Let Me Make a Phone Call 2026-10-26
78 Chapter 78: Gun Permit 2026-10-26
79 Chapter 79: Copper Lamp Obtained 2026-10-26
80 Chapter 80: New Channel 2026-10-26
81 Chapter 81: Brand New 2026-10-26
82 Chapter 82: Home Tutor 2026-10-26
83 Chapter 83: Shooting Range and Coroner 2026-10-26
84 Chapter 84: Enchanted Bullet 2026-10-26
85 Chapter 85: Spirit Realm Messenger 2026-10-26
86 Chapter 86: The Poor and the Rich 2026-10-26
87 Chapter 87 - 86: The Poor and the Rich 2026-10-26
88 Chapter 88 - 86: The Poor and the Rich 2026-10-26
89 Chapter 89 - 87: Divine Pantheon Salon 2026-10-26
90 Chapter 90 - 88: How Dares a Mortal Call Themself a God? 2026-10-26
91 Chapter 91 - 88: How Dare a Mortal Call Themselves a God? 2026-10-26
92 Chapter 92 - 89: Ashen Zone, Silent Monastery 2026-10-26
93 Chapter 93 - 90: Displaying Scholarship 2026-10-26
94 Chapter 94 91: Please Come Again 2026-10-26
95 Chapter 95 92: You Have No Backer 2026-10-26
96 Chapter 96 93: Demonstration Arrangements 2026-10-26
97 Chapter 97 94: Laurel Branch 2026-10-26
98 Chapter 98 95: I’m Still Learning to Swim 2026-10-26
99 Chapter 99 - 96: Eye of the Sphinx 2026-10-26
100 Chapter 100 - 97: Mystery, Door, Judgement 2026-10-26

With the gun loaded, Old Big walked to the shooting station, his belly nearly pressing against the edge of the partition.

But from the waist up, his entire body suddenly went rigid.

His shoulders dropped, his back straightened, and the way he held the gun was a complete mismatch with his sloppy appearance.

He didn’t aim for long.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three shots, evenly spaced. The sound waves ricocheted off the concrete walls.

Gunsmoke puffed from the muzzle, drawn into three clouds of white mist under the lights that quickly dispersed.

”You can go have a closer look.” Old Big set the gun aside, muzzle facing inward to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings.

Richard walked up to the paper target to inspect it.

The three bullet holes were clustered tightly together, landing just left of the center of the humanoid target’s chest.

”See that?” Old Big called out from behind.

”The key isn’t how accurate you are, but whether you can maintain the same rhythm between each shot.”

”Practicing with a gun is like practicing anything else.

Start slow. With every shot, aim carefully, squeeze carefully, and carefully feel how the recoil travels through your wrist.

After you’ve fired about five hundred rounds, you’ll naturally get a feel for it. There’ll be plenty of time to practice rapid-fire and shooting on the move then.”

He slid the gun back into the leather holster at his waist and patted his round belly.

”But your Breathing Technique foundation is much better than mine was back in the day. I reckon it’ll only take you about three hundred rounds.”

Richard didn’t take the bait on the topic of ”Breathing Technique”.

But the fact that Old Big could sense his Breathing Technique foundation meant he was also one of the Mysterious Side, with at least some level of Ether Perception.

For the next forty minutes, Old Big gave him hands-on instruction in the fundamentals of shooting.

Stance, grip, aiming, and the rhythm of squeezing the trigger.

”Don’t yank the trigger, push it.

Keep your finger flush against the trigger’s face and use the first knuckle to send it backward. Your entire arm, except for your index finger, should remain perfectly still.”

Richard fired his first shot.

The point of impact was off, landing on the target’s right shoulder.

”Too low. Raise it half an inch. Squeeze when you’re halfway through your exhale, not while you’re inhaling.”

The second shot was closer to the chest, but still to the right.

”You’re gripping too tightly with your right hand. Leave a little give with your fingers on the frame; let the gun have some room to breathe in your hand.”

The third shot hit the chest, but a bit high, just nicking the collarbone area.

”Much better.” Old Big rubbed his hands together.

”Your problem is you’re trying too hard to control it. You’re using your head to correct the trajectory with every shot.

There’s nothing wrong with correcting, but your window for correction is too long.

Your finger hesitates between squeezing the trigger and the gun firing. That hesitation is what leads to deviation.”

After firing twenty-four rounds, the web of Richard’s right hand was numb from the recoil.

The impact points on the target were scattered across the chest and abdomen. The furthest shot had hit the left arm, while the closest were barely clustered within the chest cavity.

For someone handling a gun for the first time, this wasn’t a bad result.

But compared to the three tightly grouped bullet holes from Old Big, the difference was obvious.

Old Big had him put the gun down and relax his arm.

He then pulled a small metal box from his canvas bag.

Opening the lid revealed a neat row of bullets, clearly different from ordinary lead rounds.

”These are Enchanted Bullets.” Old Big pinched one out and let Richard take it for a closer look.

The surface of the bullet was covered in extremely fine, etched symbols.

Each symbol was only the size of a sesame seed, arranged on the conical surface of the bullet to form a complete, miniature Inscription Ring.

”Silver casing, lead-silver alloy warhead. The surface of the bullet is carved with the most basic Exorcism Inscription.”

Old Big explained as he showed it off, his tone shifting from its earlier cheerfulness to a serious mode.

”For the lowest-tier Evil Beings like Ghouls, a normal bullet can penetrate their physical shell, but it can’t harm their core on the Ether Layer.”

”You can riddle a Ghoul’s body with holes, and it’ll go down temporarily. But as long as its core isn’t destroyed, it can pull itself back together in a few hours.”

”The Inscription on an Enchanted Bullet solves that very problem.

When the bullet hits the target, the Inscription releases an Exorcism effect on the Ether Layer. It’s like hitting the core at the same time you’re punching through the flesh.”

He moved the bullet closer to a brighter spot of light so Richard could see the arrangement of the Inscription Ring clearly.

”Etching an Inscription onto the tiny surface of a bullet requires extreme precision.

It requires specialized micro-engraving tools and a magnifying glass. A skilled engraver can only make about twenty a day.”

”What about for intermediate or higher-level Evil Beings?” Richard asked.

Old Big shook his head. ”One isn’t enough. Ten might not be enough either. But it’s better than trying to tickle them with regular lead bullets.”

He closed the lid of the metal box gingerly, as if it were a treasure.

”Enchanted Bullets are expensive. A single, standard Demon-Exorcising Bullet costs as much as several dozen regular bullets.”

This stuff is consumable. Once you fire it, it’s gone.

I’ve got twelve rounds in this box. I can’t bear to use them normally. I only load them into the Bullet Nest when I really have to.”

Richard noticed that besides the copper pot, there were several other small, cloth-wrapped objects in the toolbox.

’This was a man who carried all his worldly possessions with him wherever he went.’

Old Big glanced at his watch.

”Let’s call it a day.”

He hopped off the ammo crate and dusted off his pants.

”Your shooting fundamentals are still a long way off, but they’ll improve after another few hundred rounds.

Don’t rush to buy your own gun. First, completely master the feel of this practice gun.”

He packed up his tool bag, hooked the tin cup back onto its clip, and ambled toward the stairwell.

He took two steps, then turned back.

”Oh, right. Just remember what I said about the Enchanted Bullets. Don’t go blabbing about them to others.”

This stuff isn’t publicly circulated on the market. Too many people shouldn’t know where it comes from or where it goes.”

”Understood.”

”Good.” Old Big nodded in satisfaction.

”Come back next week if you’re free. I’m usually here for half the day on weekends.

Just come straight down to the basement when you get here. No need to call ahead.”

”Okay, see you next week.”

”See you next week, kid.”

Richard unloaded the practice gun, cleared the chamber, wiped it clean, and placed it back in the iron cabinet.

He signed the logbook to return it, then grabbed his schoolbag and went upstairs.

Passing through the first-floor foyer, he saw the clerk on duty had switched to a new pictorial magazine.

This one was a horse racing special. On the cover, a chestnut horse was soaring over a hurdle, all four hooves in the air.

Pushing open the main door, Richard walked along the narrow path by the perimeter wall toward Grafton Street, his mind still on the Enchanted Bullets.

’The application of miniaturized Inscriptions... It’s probably a field related to the Secret Direction and the Furnace Fire Tradition.’

’This Old Big seems so carefree, but he’s actually hiding a lot of knowledge.’

But the conversation had stopped at Enchanted Bullets. Old Big didn’t go any deeper, and Richard didn’t press him.

There was no need for two people who had known each other for less than half a day to bare their souls on their first meeting.

’What I’m meant to know, I’ll find out eventually. There’s no point in rushing things.’

He turned up his coat collar and quickened his pace toward home.

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