The Gunroom Novels & Stories

He then turned and walked away since he had other things to deal with. Half of the room had been a training area with punching bags, a wrestling stage, and other things, while the other part was a gym. They kept hearing the sound of shots being fired, so they went to check. They paused when they saw Aurora standing there with a gun in her hand, shooting at the target.

Raylan says as he walks ahead of me and I follow him, looking around. The floor is vast, with polished marble reflecting the bright overhead lights. One side has a boxing ring and a gym-like setup. Another has some office cubes. Third section is a glass conference room with a mock cityscape in the middle. The last section is a solid wall, so I cannot see much. We walk towards the end of the fourth section. “Are you familiar with gun safety?” “Not much,“ I say as Raylan presses numbers at a keypad on a metal door. As the door opens, I see rows of neatly arranged weapons.

I walked in, scanned quickly. No windows. Of course. The second room was… a gym. I blinked. The shock etched into me. Who the hell needs this many machines? Were these men training for war or auditioning to become Greek statues? I crept past a row of weights that looked heavy enough to crush my entire existence. One wrong move and I’d die buried under dumbbells. I held my breath until I was out. When I opened the third room— I froze. A glass cabinet lined the wall. Inside it were guns. Not one. Not two. A collection. Sleek, black, silver, some with engravings. They were displayed like art. I stared at them, my mouth open.

“Fine. You want in, you’re in.” They went to the armory room in the back of the club. Metal shelves lined with firearms, ammunition, and knives gleamed in the low light. Amy’s fingers skimmed along the collection before she pulled down a polished Colt 1911 and a snub-nosed revolver. Isadora grinned and took her favorites — a black Beretta M1951 and a sawed-off shotgun with a worn leather strap. “You ever notice,” Isadora said as she checked the Beretta’s magazine, “that people like us never really retire?”

No one would know and no one would dare to find them here. Dave opened the door of the last room of the premises. It’s surrounded by wrecked chairs, piling on the sides leaving the entrance and in the middle of it a space for two wooden crates. By the look of it, there’s no question what’s inside it. Black machinery was poking out of the crates. As if proud of its own structure to be exposed. “Guns.” Dave said. Just as though it wasn’t obvious. Boone quietly stood beside his best friend. He has a few questions in mind but he chose to watch for now at least. Sensing the whole situation.

Richard chuckled at her enthusiasm and began to walk out of the training area, with Jenny following closely behind. They had to drive to the shooting range. Her father had originally set one up on the property, but moved it to a separate building when her mother began to fall ill, worried that the gunfire might aggravate her condition. Now, their private shooting house was just a fifteen-minute drive away. Like everything her family owned, it was dark in color but warmly lit. There were several lanes for target practice, each equipped with an expensive set of noise-canceling headsets. Large targets with human silhouettes were positioned at the end of each row, and bulletproof glass separated

But it felt… good. Empowering. At one point, I knocked him off balance—accidentally, of course—but I didn’t let it show. He narrowed his eyes at me like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. Then came the part I’d been both anticipating and dreading. Shooting practice. Adrik walked me through a hallway I’d never noticed before, keying in a biometric code. A heavy door hissed open. The gun range was built underground—state of the art. Soundproofed. Slick steel walls, bulletproof panels. A row of targets stood at the far end, shaped like silhouettes.

Somehow, it soothed me. “Do you still want to continue our session?” he asked, referring to the shooting lesson he had promised. I looked up at him and offered a faint smile. “I want to be strong, Clifford. I want to be brave.” “Then let’s go,” he said with an encouraging smile, tugging me toward the hidden room. The moment we stepped inside, my breath caught. It was larger and more expansive than I had imagined, as if it stretched across the entire house. At the far end was a shooting range, and before us stood racks lined with every kind of weapon—not only guns but blades of various sizes as well. Bulletproof vests and other safety gear were neatly arranged.

Gu Yan led them to a room on the third floor, walked into the room is just an ordinary guest room, seemingly ordinary, turn over the mattress and closet, which is full of arms! Everyone sucked in a breath of cool air, all real guns and bullets! Mu Zi is also not polite, directly open the magazine, one by one to load the firearms, and then distributed. The metal texture of the weapons fell onto the hands, cold and sinking hands, making people panic. "I, what should we ...... do?" A rich young man swallowed nervously, he was good at playing with guns, but the shooting range was all dead targets, hitting a living person had never been.

“What is behind that door” “You will see” Oliver walked her to the door and unlocked it using his finger print. The moment the door opened, the inside light up. He walked inside and she followed him, she looked around and saw that this was a shooting room. Nuella looked at the glass shelves around and saw different sizes of guns “Why do you have a shooting room down here and different kinds of weapons?” She looked at him and waited for him to tell her why he had this down here. “To clear my head once in a while, I come down here to shoot”