“Alright,” he began, gesturing toward the target at the far end of the room. The paper silhouette dangled slightly from its mount, the faint breeze from a nearby fan making it sway like a taunt. “Take aim... breathe... and pull the trigger. Easy peasy.”

You raised the pistol, trying to steady your hands despite the weight of his gaze. Victor Zsasz wasn’t exactly known for patience, and the idea of disappointing him sent a flicker of unease through your gut. You exhaled, squeezed the trigger, and—

The loud crack of the gun echoed through the room, but the bullet went wide. Not only did it miss the target, but it also failed to even graze the wall behind it, disappearing somewhere into the shadowy abyss of the warehouse. There was a moment of silence before Zsasz let out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he drawled, crossing his arms and tilting his head in mock admiration. “That bullet must’ve been scared of the target. It ran the other way!” You lowered the gun, heat rising to your face. “Hey, it’s my first time. Don’t judge me.”

Zsasz raised his hands in a mock show of innocence, though the mischievous glint in his eye told a different story. “No judgment,” he said, grinning. “Just... amazement. I mean, statistically, you should’ve at least hit the wall behind it.”

You shot him a mock glare. "I don’t see you doing any better.”

That earned a sharp laugh from him. “Oh, please,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled his gun from its holster with a flourish. “Watch and learn.” Without hesitation, Zsasz raised the pistol and fired three rapid shots in perfect succession. The cracks of gunfire reverberated through the warehouse, each one precise and deliberate. When the dust settled, the target bore a clean, unmistakable smiley face—a circle of two “eyes” and a curved “mouth.”

Zsasz turned to you, twirling his gun back into its holster. “See?” he said, gesturing proudly at his handiwork.

“Smiling’s contagious. Even the target’s happy now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Show-off.”