HLM – Chapter 57 Pasture Rabbit Hunt

Bowen stayed in the small town for two days before returning. He called Wang Bo to pick him up.

Coincidentally, Charlie had taken the off-road vehicle that morning, so Wang Bo had no choice but to take the motorcycle again.

The rickety bike roared all the way to the junction between the town road and the territory. With the roadbed now laid, the route from the town to the small city had greatly improved—at least the motorcycle could now speed over it without getting jostled around.

Additionally, there were construction teams working on both sides of the road. Some houses had already begun to take shape, so the once desolate grasslands were no longer empty.

Old Wang specially went over to take a look. The construction method used by Roger’s company was worth promoting. Their houses were like assembling building blocks. The most important part was laying the foundation. Once the base was done, the rest could be pieced together according to the blueprint.

Coincidentally, the plot of land he had chosen already had a “Homestead Heart” reinforcement, so there was no need for extra foundation work. As long as the weeds were cleared and the ground leveled, he could just lay a waterproof layer and wooden boards on top.

He only watched for a while before the impatient cowboy called again. Old Wang had no choice but to hop on the motorcycle and go pick him up.

Standing by the roadside, the cowboy looked completely dejected. When he saw Old Wang, he hurriedly said, “Let’s go back quickly. I need to catch up on sleep. Damn it, the hotel beds were either too soft or too hard—none of them as comfortable as the ones in the castle.”

Of course, the castle had a “Castle Heart,” after all. Old Wang silently mocked him, then showed a strange smile and asked, “Did it work out?”

The cowboy snorted proudly, “Of course…”

“I have Julia’s Twitter and WhatsApp. I know where she’s been the past two days,” Wang Bo said bluntly.

The cowboy’s smug expression immediately turned into confusion.

Old Wang patted his shoulder consolingly. “It’s fine, Bowen. I’ve done the same—roaming around for a couple of days and then bragging about scoring a beauty. Who hasn’t pretended to be a big shot when they were young? Hahahaha!”

The cowboy looked crushed and climbed onto the motorcycle, drooping like a wilted plant. But instead of heading back to the castle, Old Wang turned toward the pasture.

Seeing this, the cowboy said weakly in despair, “If you’re gonna make me work, can you at least let me get some sleep first?”

“I’m not making you work. I want to practice shooting. Come keep me company while I work on my marksmanship,” Old Wang replied.

He’d been paying attention to the pasture lately and noticed that perhaps due to the influence of the Pasture Heart, various animals like rats, rabbits, and wild chickens had been showing up.

Wang Bo didn’t mind if they nibbled on some pasture or absorbed a bit of territory energy, but their presence might spook the calves and lambs, so they needed to be driven off.

Perfect opportunity to practice shooting—he hadn’t even used the pistol since he got it.

When Bowen heard that, he shook his head. “You’d be better off training that farmhand.”

“He’s too young. He can’t catch up to rabbits and mice.”

As they entered the pasture, the motorcycle sped across the bumpy grassland, and wild rabbits and rodents became increasingly visible. The cowboy was stunned. “Shit, there are so many rabbits and prairie mice?”

Wang Bo stopped the bike, pulled out his pistol, and flipped off the safety. He asked the cowboy, “You ever used this gun before?”

The cowboy gave it a glance and lazily said, “A Glock? Only chicks use those…”

Old Wang pointed the barrel at him, and the cowboy immediately freaked out, shouting, “Fk, fk, f**k! Put that down! Never point a goddamn gun at someone!”

“I didn’t even disengage the safety. The magazine’s not even in.” Old Wang showed him the empty, black magazine. Then he frowned and asked, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

The cowboy snorted, grabbed the pistol, slammed in the magazine, flipped the safety, chambered a round, and scanned the surroundings. He raised the gun and—Bang!—a shot rang out!

It was Wang Bo’s first time hearing a gunshot in real life. Sharp and loud, it sent adrenaline coursing through him.

A fat, grayish-yellow wild rabbit dropped in the grass.

Wang Bo ran over and picked it up. The rabbit had been shot square in the head—its skull obliterated—yet the body remained completely untouched.

“Holy shit!” Old Wang couldn’t help but curse. “You’re a damn sharpshooter!”

The cowboy was smug again. “Of course! I’ve been handling guns since I was eight. Ever heard of the Phoenix Desert Pistol Speed-Shooting Tournament? I won the championship there!”

“Was that just dumb luck?” Old Wang mercilessly poked at him.

The cowboy flipped him the bird and sneered, “Watch and learn, I’ll show you what a real Texas cowboy can do! Damn shame it’s just a Glock. If I had an M1911A1, these rabbits would be doomed. If it were an AR-15—shit—I’d wipe out every last rodent on this wasteland!”

A few steps ahead, a rabbit startled and leapt into the air. The cowboy barely aimed, just swung his arm and squeezed the trigger. The rabbit landed with its head shattered.

“Damn, you really are a sharpshooter!” Wang Bo realized he’d underestimated the guy. His goofy personality aside, the cowboy was genuinely impressive.

Two shots, two rabbits. The cowboy handed him the gun and said, “Come on, let Teacher Bowen show you how to use a handgun.”

Once the lesson began, the cowboy’s attitude turned serious. He said solemnly, “Listen, man. Remember—this thing is a death god crawled up from hell. Don’t you dare use it lightly! Every time you pick up a gun, say this: ‘I respect life!’ Repeat after me!”

“I respect life!” Old Wang followed suit, also turning serious.

“Again.”

“I respect life!”

“Ha! You idiot! You actually believed that?” The cowboy suddenly burst into laughter. “Shit, guns were made to kill! If you respect life so much, go be a priest. Why the hell are you holding a gun?”

Wang Bo finally realized he’d been played…

Still, the cowboy’s teaching was quite professional. He explained the pistol’s basic structure and how it worked, covering the hammer, safety, latch, slide, and all the key components.

Next, he had Wang Bo hold the gun and begin live practice. Wang Bo mimicked the movies—both hands gripping the gun, arms extended forward, right index finger resting loosely on the trigger.

The cowboy shook his head. “Two big mistakes. First, don’t use both hands. If you want to be a sharpshooter, you’ve got to shoot single-handed. Now, tell me—when you wipe your butt, do you use your left hand or right?”

“Right hand,” Wang Bo replied.

The cowboy looked at him in disbelief. “Shit, I use toilet paper. You actually use your hand?!”

“F**k you, you bastard!” Old Wang instantly regretted not bringing the commander here for training—he’d have chewed this idiot out for sure!

Seeing Wang Bo about to lose it, the cowboy quickly got serious again. “Okay, okay, just joking to lighten the mood. Let’s get back to Teacher Bowen’s lesson. But seriously, you do have two major mistakes…”