HLM -Chapter 1317 Shooting Clay Pigeons

“This is actually quite complicated,” Wang Bo explained to him. “First, there’s the rental fee for the firing lanes. Some are charged per person per hour, others per person per lane with no time limit. Different pricing models and different lanes all have different prices.”

“Take the handgun range as an example. The lane rental is thirty dollars per person for two hours. Gun rental is ten dollars per hour. Civilian Glock ammunition costs ten dollars for twenty-five rounds. Basically, a tourist will spend at least two hundred dollars for one session.”

“By the way, ammunition prices are a variable. The more powerful the firearm and the ammo it uses, the more expensive it gets. Those guns are naturally more fun to shoot—but they burn money the fastest.”

Ye Qipeng asked curiously, “So can people bring their own guns and ammunition?”

Wang Bo nodded. “Yes, both are allowed. But New Zealand law requires approval from the local police station, or a special firearms permit, if you want to transport guns across regions. You know how hard it is to get those permits approved. It’s much more convenient to just buy ammunition here.”

Ye Qipeng said, “So as long as you sell ammo, you can make very high profits, right?”

Wang Bo replied, “The range just opened, so it’s hard to say about profits yet. Right, Xing?”

Li Xing said, “That’s our commercial secret—but since the boss allows it, I’ll tell you. Our shooting range made sixty-five thousand dollars in revenue over the past week.”

“Not very high,” Ye Qipeng commented.

Li Xing nodded. “That’s right. Mainly because we’ve just opened and limited visitor numbers to maintain stability. Also, the range isn’t well known yet. Most of our customers are tourists—people in nearby towns mostly don’t even know we exist.”

Wang Bo said, “No rush. Once the name gets out, this range will become a money-printing machine.”

Ye Qipeng said thoughtfully, “Tourists really like it, huh? I see quite a few domestic tourists here—they seem even more enthusiastic participants?”

Seeing him constantly asking about the range, Wang Bo probed, “You’re not interested in opening a shooting range yourself, are you? Planning to set one up back home?”

Ye Qipeng didn’t answer. Assistant Lang picked up the topic instead. “You might not know this—President Ye is a retired serviceman. Ever since he left the army, he’s never been able to forget these iron fellows.”

Wang Bo said, “My apologies—so President Ye is a former soldier. In fact, setting up a shooting range itself isn’t difficult. The hard part is getting local policy approval. New Zealand makes it relatively easy to pass inspections, but it’s very difficult back home, right? Besides, with President Ye’s status and connections, would you really lack places to shoot?”

Ye Qipeng said, “I can shoot at armed police ranges, but my business partners can’t. Many of them are also very interested in firearms. To be honest, I want to develop a shooting range as a private club, mainly to serve my business dealings.”

On this point, Wang Bo chose not to comment further. He knew very well how strict domestic weapons control was—playing at the edges of the law could easily lead to trouble. So he kept silent.

Seeing that Wang Bo wasn’t responding, Bowen immediately changed the subject. “This way, gentlemen. Over here. How about we play with shotguns?”

Shotgun clay shooting.

Li Xing waved his hand. Hou Haibo tossed over a clay thrower. He pulled the trigger, and three yellow-green clay pigeons flew out one after another.

Uncle Bing reacted instantly, grabbing a shotgun from the rack beside him. Without even aiming, he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. At the same time, his left hand worked the pump under the barrel. As soon as the shot rang out, he racked it down to chamber the next round, then fired again.

“Bang!” “Clack!”
“Bang!” “Clack!”
“Bang!” “Clack!”

Three consecutive shots rang out, and all three clay pigeons in midair were blasted into powder!

Ye Qipeng applauded loudly and shouted, “Excellent shooting! This brother is a true sharpshooter!”

Wang Bo said proudly, “This is the king of hot weapons in Sunset Town. He’s from the British SAS—served as an instructor in the Special Air Service, training British special forces.”

Ye Qipeng looked at Uncle Bing in surprise and said, “Mayor Wang, you truly have elite troops under your command. To think you even have someone like this. Is this gentleman your bodyguard?”

Wang Bo laughed heartily. “What bodyguard would I need? He’s one of the key pillars of our police department.”

Uncle Bing pumped the shotgun to chamber another round, then handed it over. “Sir, would you like to try?”

Ye Qipeng really did like guns. He took it readily and said, “Sure. Let me have a go. Little Wang, please tell your guys to launch the clays separately—I can’t handle that frequency just now.”

Li Xing asked Assistant Lang, “Mr. Lang, what do you like to play? Shotguns, rifles, fixed targets, moving targets—or maybe a live-scenario drill?”

Assistant Lang shook his head. “Sorry, I’m a complete novice in this area. I’ve never even touched a gun before. You all go ahead—I’ll just watch.”

Wang Bo turned to him and said, “Assistant Lang, go try it. Opportunities like this don’t come often. You can find shooting ranges when you go back home, but ones as free as mine are quite rare.”

Ye Qipeng also said, “Ah Lang, go on, give it a try.”

Assistant Lang gave a wry smile. “But I really don’t know how to play.”

“It’s very simple. Don’t be nervous. Our range provides pre-shooting training. As long as you follow the safety rules, I’ll personally stay with you—nothing will go wrong,” Li Xing reassured him.

“If you still don’t feel at ease, you can join a beginner’s training course specifically for novices—starting from basic knowledge like firearms and ammunition, and only then entering the range,” Hou Haibo added.

Before Ye Qipeng started shooting, Li Xing handed him a contract—a liability waiver. Everyone entering the range had to sign it, including Wang Bo; otherwise, no one was allowed to fire.

After signing, Hou Haibo activated the clay thrower. A clay pigeon shot out with a “whoosh.”

Ye Qipeng quickly raised the muzzle, locked his eyes on the front sight, then picked up the clay and decisively pulled the trigger.

“Bang!”

With a loud blast, the clay pigeon exploded in midair.

This time it was Wang Bo’s turn to applaud. “Beautiful!”

The second clay flew out. Ye Qipeng fired again—“Bang!”

The clay fell to the ground.

Just as Wang Bo was about to speak, Ye Qipeng’s second shot missed, leaving him extremely embarrassed.

Ye Qipeng was competitive by nature. He said, “Damn it, it’s been a while since I last played—my hands are rusty. Again, again!”

He wasn’t bragging. After shooting a dozen more clays, he gradually found his rhythm and started producing high-level results.

He fired thirty clays in a row, then finally put the gun down and shouted, “Awesome! So damn awesome! Little Wang, your turn!”

Wang Bo picked up the gun in a very proper manner. One clay after another was launched. He fired with his right hand while pumping with his left, and amid the “bang bang bang” sounds, the clays dropped one after another.

Not a single one was missed.