Chapter 2: The Shot That Silenced Everyone
The old man calmly opened the faded cloth bag and revealed an old wooden rifle that looked decades out of date. Competitors laughed again, comparing it to a museum piece while Ryan joked that it belonged in a garage sale instead of a national championship.
The range officer inspected the rifle and reluctantly approved it.
The old man loaded a single round.
"One bullet?" Ryan laughed.
"One shot," the old man replied.
As he settled behind the rifle, something changed. The trembling disappeared. His breathing slowed. His entire posture transformed into that of someone who had spent a lifetime mastering precision.
Marcus Hale watched in growing disbelief.
Then the rifle fired.
The bullet tore through the exact center of the target before striking the steel bell behind it. The clear ring echoed across the entire range.
Silence.
No applause.
No laughter.
Even Ryan stood frozen.
As the old man lowered his sleeve, Marcus caught sight of a faded wolf tattoo beneath his wrist. His face turned pale. Memories rushed back from a war few people even remembered.
Unable to stop himself, Marcus stepped forward, stood at attention, and saluted.
"Impossible," he whispered. "That's the mark of Ghost Unit."
The crowd looked on in confusion as Marcus revealed that the quiet old man had once belonged to a legendary military unit that had disappeared from public history. The stranger finally revealed his name.
May you like
Samuel Reed.
A man Marcus had believed dead for more than thirty years.
