"Lucky shot!"
"I could do that at this distance too."
"Even a blind cat can find a dead mouse sometimes."
The other competitors couldn't laugh, but faint voices of doubt still carried through, attributing the shot to luck rather than skill.
But Margaret didn't care in the least and simply beckoned the referee over to start the qualifying round immediately.
The rules were straightforward: hit a target at ten yards with three out of five shots to pass.
The accuracy of muskets from this era, even those handcrafted by Masters, was notoriously unreliable, almost akin to mysticism.
Thus, the target paper wasn't divided into ten rings but had a simple black outer circle with a red dot at the center—any hit on the paper counted as a success.
The red dot primarily served as a sighting aid. While there was a rule that shots closer to the red dot scored better, this wasn't a requirement for the qualifying round.
BANG!
