"You grip that like you're holding a pastry, not a weapon," the woman drawled, watching him with narrowed eyes.
"Are you planning to woo the aberrants or kill them?"
Brandon grimaced slightly and looked down at the standard-issue academy pistol in his hand.
He adjusted his stance again, trying to remember the form she yelled at him twenty minutes ago.
"I thought I was doing better this time..."
She walked behind him and suddenly smacked the side of his foot with her own.
"Stagger your rear foot. Weigh forward. Ether flows from posture before it flows into power. You're D-rank, yeah, but that doesn't mean your fundamentals get to suck."
"Right..." Brandon muttered as he adjusted again.
"Now breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Sight picture... top of the iron sights aligned. Don't chase the target; let it walk into your line."
Bang!
His shot rang out and the recoil made his arms tremble slightly.
