The Returned Heiress Who Had It All (Cassia) novel Chapter 268

Chapter 268 Sharpshooter

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The so–called “shooting game” was actually the common balloon–shooting booth you often saw in parks.

A large, flashy cloth backdrop was covered with rows of brightly colored balloons. Players stood a few feet away with a gun and shot at the balloons for points.

The more balloons you popped, the higher your score. Different score ranges earned different prizes.

The grand prize was a giant teddy bear, nearly six feet tall. According to the student running the booth, it was imported from Montavia and worth at least several thousand dollars on the market.

A big crowd had gathered around the game. Many girls stared longingly at the grand prize, while plenty of guys were eager to show off their skills and masculinity.

But no one had managed to win the top prize.

Cassia and Draven waited patiently in line. After half an hour, it was finally their turn.

“Fifty bucks for 50 shots. If all 50 hit, the grand prize is yours,” the student in charge said.

All the games at the school festival were organized by students, and the fees went straight into their own pockets.

Most people played for the grand prize, but winning it was far easier said than done. Many students had already spent hundreds of dollars without landing 50 hits. Some couldn’t even pop a single balloon, basically throwing their money away. At best, they walked off with a consolation prize.

Seven casually placed a crisp 50–dollar bill on the table,

“Fifty shots it is. Let’s see Mr. Grey carry that giant bear home.”

The

gun used in the game was an air rifle, the kind often modeled after M16s or vintage semi–automatic rifles.

When the student saw Draven raise the gun and him at the balloons, his expression changed.

Draven’s posture was steady and precise. It was obvious he understood firearms, completely different from the sloppy way other students handled the gun.

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Chapter 268 Sharpshooter

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Is he even from our school? Someone like this would have stood out immediately, yet the student had never seen him before.

So he must be an outsider.

More and more people gathered around.

They were no longer there just to watch balloon shooting. They were watching Draven.

Some of the girls froze in place the moment they saw him. He was far more handsome than even the two most popular guys at their school.

Seven looked at the increasingly packed walkway and sighed inwardly. This was the power of Mr. Grey’s presence.

Cassia stood to the side, watching with interest.

His shooting stance was flawless and elegant, confident and commanding, like a statue come to life.

He had definitely handled real guns before.

As that thought crossed her mind, Draven pulled the trigger.

Pop. Another shot.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Twenty shots in a row, and 20 balloons burst.

Draven kept going, popping another balloon with every single shot. Another 20 went down.

The crowd erupted.

“That’s insane!”

“He’s amazing!”

“He looks like special forces!”

“He’s insanely good!” The student running the booth stared in disbelief.

He had tampered with the setup. The balloons were designed to be nearly impossible to pop,

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Chapter 268 Sharpshooter

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ensuring the booth turned a profit. Yet this man had calmly and steadily taken out 40 balloons without missing once.

No one else had even come close. The best anyone had done before was just over 10.

Pop. Another five balloons burst.

As Draven neared 50, the student panicked. While Draven was pulling the bolt, the student reached out and took the gun from him.

“I’ll help you.”

Draven didn’t think much of it and handed over the air rifle.

The student adjusted the bolt, then passed it back.

Cassia, watching from the side, noticed the movement and narrowed her eyes.

Draven raised the gun and aimed again.

Pop.

The pellet hit the cloth backdrop instead.

“Mr. Grey?” Seven’s eyes widened.

That was impossible.

Everyone else thought a miss was normal, but Seven didn’t.

Mr. Grey trained with guns. He almost never missed. How could that shot go wide?

Draven lowered the gun slightly and looked toward where the shot had landed. His eyes narrowed.

After a moment of thought, he adjusted his aim slightly upward and to the left of the balloon and pulled the trigger again.

Pop. It hit.

So that was it.

Draven glanced at the student, his grip tightening slightly around the gun.

The sights had been messed with.

For the remaining four shots, Draven deliberately aimed a little to the upper left of each

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Chapter 268 Sharpshooter

balloon.

All four hit.

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Out of 50 shots, he landed 49. And that was despite the harder–to–pop balloons and the tampered sights. For ordinary players who could barely hit a few shots, this was god–tier performance.

But it didn’t matter.

“Congratulations, you won second prize,” the student said, handing Draven a Pikachu plush that probably cost no more than 15 dollars at a street stall.

A cheap second prize versus a giant teddy bear worth thousands. The difference was glaring.

The student put on a show of regret and exaggerated enthusiasm. “Ah, what a shame. You were just one shot away from the grand prize. Want to try again? Missing it by just one shot is such a waste, right?”

The crowd felt it too. Missing by dozens of shots was one thing. But just one? Just one single shot away.

Anyone would feel unwilling to let that go.

Even Seven felt the pain for Draven.

Draven looked at the student running the booth

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