His mother got busy with preparations, while Amanda hid away in her room making phone calls. Owen also returned to his own room.
Last night's events had left a deep impact on him. Those terrorists posed a threat to his family—something he would never allow. Setting aside CTU's inadequate protection, his own abilities were still lacking.
There were many types of power in this world. Wealth, influence, and a wide network of connections were one kind of strength. Being ruthless, reigning supreme in the underworld, was another.
But Owen couldn't achieve any of those things. The only thing he could do was continually improve his own personal skills—to become stronger so he could protect the people around him.
Personal ability encompassed combat skills, marksmanship, and adaptability.
Thinking about close combat, Owen immediately recalled the scene in Zhongchen Tower where he got beaten up by that sniper. Both he and McClane were nearly taken out by just one opponent. If McClane hadn't resorted to dirty tricks at the last moment, they might have ended up with flags draped over their coffins.
To be fair, Owen's hand-to-hand skills weren't bad. He had been a police officer, and while law enforcement training did include combat training, it wasn't the main focus. Someone as agile as him was already considered a skilled fighter among cops.
But the Zhongchen Tower robbers were ex-military, specifically from the Marine Corps. His opponents had gone from average criminals to professional soldiers—of course, he couldn't keep up.
As for marksmanship, he had no natural talent for it. At best, he was at the level of an average police officer. However, during the operation on Qisi Island, those few shots he fired at the RPG gunner had given him a new insight.
When bullet time activated, his focus, body, and muscles worked in perfect sync, allowing him to land pinpoint shots. At that moment, he had single-handedly suppressed nearly all the RPG shooters.
The problem was, the side effects of adrenaline were severe—it always left him in a state of extreme exhaustion afterward. That was why he had always been hesitant to rely on it too much. But last time had felt different. It seemed that as long as he kept bullet time brief—just a couple of seconds at a time—before immediately releasing it, the aftereffects were minimal.
With that thought in mind, Owen tried to control his adrenaline. Given how frequently he had been teetering on the edge of life and death recently, he was already very familiar with this state. He no longer needed the long buildup he used to require in order to trigger it.
Bullet time: on.
Bullet time: off.
Again.
Bullet time: on.
Bullet time: off.
Unlike in combat situations, this time, Owen had the mental space to actually observe how bullet time functioned. Adrenaline undeniably gave him an instant boost in all physical attributes, creating a superhuman sensation.
After repeatedly activating and deactivating it, he felt no discomfort. It seemed his hypothesis was correct—keeping bullet time within two seconds was harmless.
With this new discovery, Owen couldn't sit still any longer. He was eager to put it to the test. And the best place to do that? The shooting range.
One Hour Later
Owen drove to an outdoor shooting range on the outskirts of Los Angeles.
Indoor ranges were everywhere in the city—many gun shops even had their own shooting lanes available for public use. But Owen was looking for an outdoor range, one where he could practice dynamic shooting. That kind of training was much more realistic.
However, due to city regulations, outdoor shooting ranges had strict location requirements and could only be built far from residential areas. The one Owen had chosen was an IPSC (International Practical Shooting Confederation) training ground.
Many police officers were IPSC members, including Owen.
Being part of IPSC had its perks: the association had many skilled shooters, and frequent exchanges meant there was always something new to learn. IPSC also organized competitions that were as entertaining as they were educational.
That said, IPSC competitions came in different formats—some allowed heavily modified guns, while others restricted shooters to factory models. Owen preferred the latter. He felt that modifying guns for competition strayed too far from the practical shooting philosophy IPSC was meant to uphold.
He knew competitors who went to great lengths to modify their firearms:
Extended barrels for increased bullet stability. Muzzle brakes to reduce recoil. Custom firing pins and lighter triggers for faster shots. Reduced powder loads to minimize kickback.
These modifications made guns fire faster and with less recoil—but at the cost of practicality. To Owen, those firearms were no longer real weapons, but dangerous toys.
Some competitors even adjusted their triggers to be so sensitive that a mere tap could fire a shot. Guns modified this way were so unsafe that they could go off if dropped.
Owen used to visit the range regularly with his colleagues and had made many acquaintances there. But since his marksmanship never improved much, he gradually lost interest.
It had been a while since his last visit, and he noticed quite a few new faces.
The range was divided into different sections. Owen found an empty area and began his practice.
He briefly recalled how he had used bullet time on Qisi Island, then closed his eyes.
When he reopened them, training began.
Bullet time: on. Aim. Shoot. Bullet time: off.
Again.
Bullet time: on. Aim. Shoot. Bullet time: off.
Owen still maintained his habit of double-tapping. The "two-plus-one" shooting technique was already ingrained in his muscle memory.
His first few shots weren't great—though all of them hit the target, some were at the edges instead of critical zones.
Each bullet struck the humanoid targets with a crisp snap. Owen continued switching between bullet time and normal state. With the added benefits of adrenaline, every shot was blindingly fast.
This section of the training ground was designed to mimic real-world scenarios, with obstacles, makeshift walls, and windows. The "enemies" were cardboard cutouts of human figures.
Owen moved in small, precise steps. Advance. Stop. Fire. Advance. Stop. Fire. Every shot was a double-tap. With bullet time active, missing was impossible.
After a dozen shots, he was getting into the groove. His movements became smoother, and his shooting rhythm naturally aligned with his footwork.
His pace quickened. His shooting frequency increased. Any shooter knew that moving while shooting was vastly harder than stationary shooting.
Movement introduced erratic breathing and muscle tension, while shooting required stability. The ability to switch seamlessly between these two states was what separated experts from amateurs.
Owen had figured it out. Every time he fired, he subtly paused—so briefly that it was imperceptible. By the time anyone noticed, he had already fired and resumed moving. To an observer, it looked like he was running and shooting at full speed with zero hesitation.
Every shot was a bullseye. Every move had its own rhythm. It was incredibly powerful.
At some point, a crowd had gathered behind him. Everyone was intrigued by this sudden emergence of a sharpshooting expert.
"Bang, bang! Bang, bang!"
He fired the last two rounds from his rifle. Without hesitation, he dropped the rifle and drew his handgun. The rhythmic double-taps resumed.
Seconds later, his pistol ran empty. As he ejected the spent magazine, he flicked his wrist—a fresh mag was already sliding into place as the gun snapped back into position. More "bang, bang!" sounds echoed.
Finally, the last humanoid target was down. Owen holstered his gun and turned around—only to realize a sizeable crowd had gathered. A wave of applause broke out.
Owen felt a little awkward. He had never been recognized for his shooting skills before. He had always been the one clapping for others.
He smiled politely at the crowd—when suddenly, a girl wearing a baseball cap stepped forward.
Owen gave her a questioning look as she stopped in front of him.
"You're really good," she said. "I want to challenge you to a match!"
_________________________
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