Chapter 11: Staircase

[Nightster Shooting Club]

Bang!

The sharp report of a gunshot resonated in the air. My lips curved into a slight smile as my gaze settled on the target. The bullet had barely missed the bullseye. Evan's breathing grew slightly heavy, and a single bead of sweat trickled down his temple, showcasing his concentration. Without breaking his focus, he squeezed the trigger again.

Bang!

I discarded the cigarette butt, squinting to gauge the new bullet mark. It was even closer to the bullseye this time.

"Almost there," I remarked. Yet, Evan seemed so engrossed in his aim that he didn't register my comment.

Click!

He squeezed the pistol's trigger once more, but the telltale absence of a gunshot indicated it was empty.

Ha!

The realization disrupted Evan's intense focus. An expression of frustration crossed his face as he rifled through the ammunition box, finding it empty.

"Sir, we're out of bullets," he grumbled, looking in my direction. The audacity of this young man! On my expenses at the shooting range, he'd already expended a hundred rounds. Each of these common bullets had set me back three shillings or three hundred pence. Doing a quick tally, that little escapade had cost me a neat 3 pounds or 300 shillings. Not like I can complain, as I was the one who wanted to train him.

With a resigned look, I signaled the attendant, who quickly caught on. He swiftly left the room and returned five minutes later with a box of fifty bullets. He then walked towards the empty box and poured all the bullets inside it.

"Pass me the pistol," I told Evan. Meeting my gaze, he handed it over. I swiftly removed the empty shells from the cylinder and loaded it with fresh cartridges.

"Watch and learn," I declared, managing to keep a straight face. Evan's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he nodded enthusiastically. The lad seemed quite eager.

I inhaled deeply, the weight of the pistol in my hand sending a thrill up my spine. The cold metal grip was unfamiliar yet oddly satisfying. Aiming carefully, I closed one eye to better focus on the target.

Bang!

The sound echoed in the room, and I looked to see where my shot landed. Though it was a considerable distance from the bullseye, it still hit the target. For a first-timer like me, this wasn't half bad. But at that moment, through the corner of my eye, I noticed Evan, who had confusion written all over his face.

"Did you catch my mistake?" I queried, turning slightly to face Evan.

"Sir, I noticed that your grip was a bit off," he remarked. Listening to this, I adjusted as per his instruction. Bang!

Once again, the gunshot echoed.

"What did I do wrong this time?"

"Your stance was a bit off," he said after a moment's pause. "Your feet should be more apart."

Like this, fifteen minutes went by. Each time I'd shoot, and each time Evan would correct something. I successfully tricked him into teaching me—cough, cough, no, this wasn't tricking, definitely not tricking!

"Sir, last week you told me you'd teach me various stances and tricks regarding using a gun," he said, hopeful eyes staring back at me.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ha, if you get those tricks, you'd better teach me too... I scoffed inwardly.

"Well," I began, "I was testing whether you were ready or not. Seems you aren't."

"But, sir—"

"One step at a time, Evan. One step at a time."

After that, I handed the pistol back to Evan, who eagerly resumed firing. Half an hour swiftly passed, marking the end of our allotted time at the shooting range.

At 7:55 AM, I glanced at the clock. Noticing the time, I turned to Evan who, with a hint of reluctance, passed me the pistol. I securely placed it in its holster. Having settled the additional fee of one pound and fifty shillings, Evan and I exited the shooting club. Our next stop was Barmnell Cathedral, conveniently located on Rose Street.

"Sir, where are we headed next?" Evan inquired with respect. I responded, "To the Barmnell Church."

His expression showed a hint of confusion. To clear it up, I said, "You've read many detective novels, haven't you?" Evan nodded in affirmation, "Yes."

"Which are your favorites?"

He thought for a moment before listing, "Lord of the Miseries, the Mysterious Lord, The Darkhill Files."

"And in those novels, where do secret meetings typically take place?" By the look on his face, it seemed he had already guessed half the answer. Yet, upon hearing my words, a realization dawned on him.

"Cafes, restaurants, and cathedrals: the roots of conspiracies. It's why enforcers often scrutinized such locales. I surmised that those arranging meetings at the cathedral were likely using it as a one-off venue, possibly for an emergency gathering.

A few more minutes of walking brought us to our destination: Barmnell Cathedral. As one might deduce from its name, it bore a resemblance to a church. In the Clandonshire Kingdom, cathedrals were predominant. Even for the third most revered deity in this realm, the Holy Son, grand cathedrals stood as testament to the faith of believers.

The gods of the Indus Federation were also venerated in such grand cathedrals. However, other kingdoms boasted grand temples as well. While there were smaller temples scattered throughout Clandonshire, they paled in comparison to the magnificent structures in neighboring regions.

Walking down the aisle, I arrived at the prayer hall. The cathedral, though modest in size, was solemn and quiet, save for a lone bishop in prayer. The primary mural depicted a sun with an outline of angelic wings within. Flanking this central image were seven other paintings, one of which showcased a fiery red orb symbolizing the subsidiary god Legreons.

Navigating the memory of the gods, I walked to a pew and took a seat. Evan, with the excitement from our prior conversation evident in his eyes, sat next to me. The church's rustic brown wood, which wasn't very common, lent an air of mystery to the setting, creating the perfect atmosphere for covert meetings.

"Not suspicious in the least," I mused with a hint of sarcasm. After a while, the bishop's eyes met ours. He smiled warmly and began his sermon, drawing from the Book of Eternity, the revered text of this religion. Thankfully, he was sharing a shortened version, as a full recitation would span several days.

"God Said that I'm Radiance, I'm Life! A blinding light was released from his body, giving all the creatures that existed a warm sensation while repelling all the evil. He plucked his golden eye, the eye of virtue, and turned it into a bright sun."

Listening to this, I sighed inwardly. I feared that this man would suddenly ignite and turn into ashes. He was most probably a devil worshiper, yet he was speaking as if he was the most devoted believer of the God Eternal.

After finishing his preaching, the Bishop walked toward me and leaned slightly in my direction, then whispered, "Go to the confessional door from the other side, and only you can go." He said the last part as he glanced at Evan. I nodded and then looked toward Evan.

"If I don't come out after two hours, leave this cathedral without me." As I said these words, my heart started to beat faster. This was risky, very risky; however, if I wanted to survive, then I had to take this risk. With the help of this organization, I could broaden the scope of my investigation.

Evan gave a subtle nod to my words. Standing up, I followed the bishop and entered the confessional booth from the other side of it, the side that was meant for the bishop

Inside, I located the secret door the bishop had mentioned. Lifting it, my eyes fell upon a narrow staircase leading into the ominous depths of pitch-black darkness.

The darkness sent a shiver down my spine. Nevertheless, I made an effort to maintain my composure as I placed my foot on the first step. Inhaling deeply, I pressed forward. It took approximately a minute to reach my destination, which resembled an underground hideout.

Such underground facilities were a rarity in smaller cities, but in larger metropolises like Brassington, they were quite common. In the country's capital, there was even an entire underground city.

These thoughts played on my mind as I continued down the silent corridor, devoid of any other presence. My back remained straight, and my shoulders steady as I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. This time, my posture felt natural, as if I belonged there, as if I owned this place."

Puff~

At a certain point, I squinted my eyes, struggling to see in the dimly lit hall. After a few more minutes of walking, I noticed a faint glimmer of light.

"It seems I'm getting closer to the place I'm looking for," I thought to myself as I quickened my pace.