?Chapter 375:


    “But she’s got rare talent—”


    “One more word and I’ll have Damon haul you off for a little… correction.”


    Mack fell silent instantly. He gave Kristian a sidelong nce. How could he always throw Damon in his face?


    Freya remained still.


    She wasn’t born with the gift. Her skill came from relentless practice—thousands of rounds, hours upon hours at the range.


    Kristian’s gaze darkened. Pulling Mack aside, his eyes settled on Freya like a storm waiting to break. “When did you get this good?”


    “I’m not obliged to answer that,” Freya replied bluntly.


    The more guarded she was, the more intrigued he became. Her eyes flicked to the target. “It’s a draw. So let’s up the ante.”


    Kristian blinked in surprise.


    Mack leaned in, eager to hear what came next.


    “What about shooting in the rain? Or fog?” Freya suggested without a shred of hesitation.


    Kristian’s brows drew together in a frown.


    Under ideal conditions, he could aim and hit with confidence. However, when wind, rain, or low visibility came into y, the situation changed drastically, and he couldn’t guarantee sess.


    Freya, on the other hand, lookedpletely sure of herself.


    If he epted and lost, he’d have no right to chase after her again. No excuses. No future.


    Explore more chapters on g?lnσνe??s?c?m


    With a heavy breath, he said, “Let’s leave it for another day. We’ve done enough for now.”


    Freya didn’t press. He had the right to call it off.


    With no more reason to linger, she turned to go. She’d already spent half the day away from her work.


    “I’m heading out,” she said, returning the equipment. Before leaving, she nced back at Kristian. “I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise.”


    Kristian’s lips pressed into a thin line.


    Of course, he hadn’t. She was reminding him not toe knocking until hepleted the first two challenges.


    “I’ll give you a ride,” he offered, his voice as cool as ever. “You won’t find a cab easily out here.”


    “Leaving already?” Mack tried to stop them, his eyes lighting up. “Come on, since you’re here, let’s share a meal. It’s tradition—any first-timer who hits a bull’s-eye at 300 meters gets a free lunch.”


    The staff members nearby looked at him, baffled. Since when was that a thing?


    Mack turned to them. “Isn’t that right, fes?”


    “Absolutely!”


    “No doubt about it.”


    “Please, both of you.”


    .


    .


    .