Ning Xuemo had a helpless look on her face as she said, "Young Master Fu, it's not like I'm a prize. I'll reward whoever wins. What does this have to do with spear arts?"

Fu Peng also felt that what he said was wrong and quickly explained, "Miss Ning, that's not what I meant. I just think that we should have a chance to fight for you!

Ye Fan had no interest at all, and said, "Forget it, I don't want to compete."

"You don't know how to use a gun?" Fu Peng frowned. "Miss Ning's marksmans.h.i.+p is very accurate. How could she have taken a fancy to a man who doesn't know how to use a spear?"

"I will, but I don't need to compete right?" Ye Fan felt a little annoyed.

Fu Peng said, "Since that's the case, then compete with me. If you're a man, then don't be a woman, be a little more straightforward!

Ning Xuemo was displeased. "Young Master Fu, you have no right to interfere with my feelings!"

Ye Fan felt that if he continued to shrink back, he would appear to have no backbone, especially in front of his own woman.

Song Xinghe and Lu Jing'er revealed a playful expression. They all knew about Fu Peng's marksmans.h.i.+p. As the founder of the club, his shooting skills were naturally pretty good, it wasn't any weaker than some of the special forces.

"Ye Fan, you really dare to bet. If you lose later on, how awkward would Boss Ning be for Boss Ning?" Lu Jing'er sneered.

Lu Jing Er's face turned ugly and she snorted. A hint of anger flashed across her eyes.

Ye Fan smiled at Ning Zimo, "Ning'er, don't worry. I usually don't lose."

Ning Xuemo didn't know what to do with the man, but she also knew that even though Ye Fan seemed to be casual, he wouldn't do something that he wasn't confident in. Thus, she didn't say anything more.

"Smith & Wesson Third Generation, .45 large-caliber handgun. One person with ten rounds of bullets, shooting from fifty meters away. We'll win if we see who has the highest score." Fu Peng confidently explained the rules.

Ye Fan picked up the pistol and weighed it in his hand. It really was from the original factory, and was not a fake. This club was indeed not simple.

Fu Peng said, "Say it, I'm fine with anything."

Ye Fan shrugged, "Then I think you should fight first and observe for a while."

Fu Peng smiled disdainfully. He didn't care at all. He picked up the gun, loaded the bullets, turned on the safety, and started shooting at a ring-shaped target fifty meters away.

"Bang, bang, bang …"

After the 10 shots were done, the electronic measuring system directly displayed the score on a screen above the shooting field.

"Eighty-seven rings!"

Fu Peng shouted happily and put down his gun. "What a pity! You met me in good condition today. This is basically close to my highest score. If you give up, I will understand as well."

This was very difficult for an ordinary person to achieve. After all, the counterforce of a real gun was very strong, not to mention it was a large caliber gun.

Ye Fan didn't say anything, and slowly picked up his gun, loading the bullets one by one.

He thought that Fu Peng was very skilled, but had only managed to form over eighty rings. He thought that if he was able to produce an outrageous score, then these people would definitely suspect what he did in the past.

He raised his gun and fired.

"Bang, bang, bang …"

Ye Fan also held a gun in two hands, as if he was imitating Fu Peng. But in reality, Ye Fan's eyes weren't focused at all. Because of this distance, he even knew how to hit the target with his eyes closed.

"Eighty …" "Eight!?" Fu Peng gritted his teeth as he read out the numbers, unable to believe his eyes.

Ye Fan grinned, "Sorry, I almost beat you."

Ye Fan clicked his tongue, "Could it be that you don't want to admit it?"

Fu Peng looked unresigned, but he couldn't refute her. He could only say: "Let's compete again, two out of three!"

Ye Fan waved his hand, "Since we agreed on a game to decide the victor, and you changed the rules, I won't play with people who break their word."

Lu Jing'er looked at Song Xinghe, then rolled his eyes and said, "How about this, as a good friend, our family's Xinghe will compete for Fu Peng. If Xinghe wins, the bet just now will be cancelled, pretend nothing happened."

Song Xinghe was dissatisfied with Lu Jing Er's decision, but he did not reveal it.

Fu Peng immediately clapped when he heard this, "That's a good suggestion! "Ye Fan, if you don't compete with me, would you dare to compete with Director Song?"

"Are you done yet?" You want to compete more? " Ye Fan sighed and said, "What's more, this won't do me any good anyway."

"If I lose, I'll give you one million. Consider that one million is my gift to Fu Peng as a friend."

Fu Peng laughed and patted Song Xinghe's shoulders, "Old Song, you're really nice! It's settled! "

"You have to be careful, Director Song's marksmans.h.i.+p is one of the best in the club. He often scores above 90 points!" Ning Zimo reminded him from the side.

Ye Fan didn't care about all this, and said, "Since you are already so sincere, then let's have another match."

After reloading the bullets, Song Xinghe picked up the gun with one hand and calmly started shooting.

After a series of ten sharp and crisp gunshots, Song Xinghe did not even bother looking as he walked away.

The heck! Old Song, you're great! Ninety-eight rings?! " Fu Peng exclaimed, "You must have broken the club's record!?" Chapter error, point this report (registered free)