Intermission I

Meanwhile, within Block C, where group 2 was assigned to.

A beautiful scene of the sun just finished rising over the horizon, with a log cabin plastered in the center of the canvas, the fireplace was active, showing the authenticity of the cabin within the frame.

An old red pickup pulled up just outside the cabin, within the yellow dried up grass that spanned throughout the area.

Tan boots with a touch of dry soil stepped out the red pickup, and later revealed the rest of the missing pieces.

A face dented with wrinkles and few freckles were dipped within the snow.

The clothing was that of retirement, something that hadn't fully engulfed the experienced veteran yet.

The man approached the secluded log cabin, and gave it a few good knocks.

To his surprise, the response was absent, frustration was only natural, and so, out of the man's control, his revolver was pulled from his holster.

Screams from the steel machine were appropriate, was it not?

"I told you kids to be outside by 8:30! It's 8:32 and ya aint out here!" the old man shouted, then thought, "Damn kids, they really think they're gonna make me wait for em…"

Then, appropriately enough, the door to the old cabin opened up, and on the other side was Ichi, who donned apparel that was very similar to the man across from him.

A dingy yellow flannel with bleached jeans and boots, a sight that felt odd with a glance alone.

"We're up, old man."

"Wha… what ya call me boy?!" The old man was flabbergasted by the amount of disrespect that this child had for his elders, he questioned if this was a generational thing or was it just this boy who wasn't raised with manners.

The other students of group 2 eventually find their way outside the cabin, all dressed in attire very fitting of the culture of Block C.

"What're we doin' today?" Kumo asked.

"We'll be movin' Ms. Maldan's cattle."

"Yes! Cattle movin'!!" Kumo shouted in excitement.

"You're happy about that?" Ichi asked.

The old man took the members of group 2 to a field that looked like it was in the middle of nowhere, something that wasn't hard to find within Block C apparently.

"Her cow usually wanders off at night and sits here eatin' grass—" they easily located the cow on the other side of the field, doing what the old man said, "—there's that sonofabitch."

All six members of group two had the brightest idea to attempt to push the lost cow, trying to motivate it to go back to Ms. Maldan's ranch.

This, predictably, did not work, the cow probably didn't even notice the members of group two leaning on its backside.

"Why is it not moving?!" Lucas shouted.

"Why am I even out here, this is insulting!" Gamal yelled.

"Don't worry, we can do this guys!" Kumo screamed in excitement.

"Are you always this positive?" Paul asked, scratching at the reason for Kumo's positive attitude.

The sheriff didn't attempt to get involved, as it would put him in danger, so he did the only reasonable thing, shout at the youths from his pickup, "C'mon y'all, put some back into it!"

Eventually, group two got the lost cattle back to Ms. Maldan's ranch, the exercise to cover the group in filth and sweat though, and was certainly a large waste of time. It had been almost noon when they finished the task.

"Now that that's over, we have somethin' else to do." The sheriff said.

"I don't think I can last another task…" Reed sighed.

"Don't go dyin' on me yet, ya brats, we got plenty more to do today, and that starts with target practice."

"We… Can… Do… It… guys…" Kumo said, surprisingly he was able to get every word off even though speaking was exhausting with the state some of the members of group two were in.

"Why are you forcing it?!" Paul shouted.

The members of group two headed back towards the cabin to do the target practice, the sheriff had set up three rows of bottle targets for them in the process of them catching their breaths.

"The farther the bottle, the more points ya get. Since I only got six bullets on me, each of ya gets one shot. Make it count."

"This'll be easy." Ichi said.

"If it'll be easy, why don't ya go first then, mister big shot?" the sheriff replied as he tossed Ichi his revolver.

Ichi didn't hesitate to begin aiming, but he did so with only one hand on the gun, which didn't sit well with the instructor.

"Ya need two hands on it boy!"

"I got this." Ichi said as he took a deep breath.

A deep breath, for focusing, was necessary even for a master marksman.

Once Ichi was ready to take his shot, he did so, which only took about two seconds of preparation if you would call it that.

He shot the farthest bottle on the third row, with only using one hand on the revolver, this received awe from the other members of group two, as well as a bit of an astonished second take from the instructor.

"See, easy."

"What the hell is he?" Paul thought.

"Well... Pure luck... who's next?" the sheriff asked.

"Can I go?" Kumo asked, and accordingly so, the sheriff tossed him the revolver.

"Don't waste a bullet now, son."

Kumo has never shot a gun before, so he held it how he thought one was supposed to, and with two hands, something he picked up from the instructor's shouting towards Ichi.

His nerves were at a standstill with him, the battle was furious, his arms had already waived the white flag as slight tremors ensued.

"You can do this… this isn't that hard…" Kumo said, attempting to stay positive and push himself to reclaim back the fallen territory.

"Choose your target wisely now, don't try to do too much."

"You can do this…" Kumo continued, his battle from within wouldn't allow him to give much attention to the Sheriff's words.

He aimed for one of the farthest bottles, and took a deep breath as the fireworks began bursting within.

A much longer pause than Ichi's, then, he fired.

The bullet went straight for the same spot that Ichi hit earlier, his aspirations were high for someone who had never held a gun before, his confidence was somewhat high though, or at least what he led himself to believe.

The bullet missed.

"I… I missed…" Kumo said, as he headed back to the group and his confidence had been shot down in the process.

"You tried to compete with Ichi, son. You shouldn't try to outdo yourself, take it one step at a time, son—" The sheriff said, then pointed at Paul and finished "—You're next." he tossed the revolver at him the same way he did with the others.

Paul caught it, and prepared to fire it already, gripping the revolver with both hands as he thought "I really don't feel like doing this…" he just aimed and fired at the closest bottle to him, to which he didn't have much trouble hitting.

"That's it?! You should at least attempt to do more than that!—" the sheriff shouted, then tossed the gun at Reed, signaling it was his turn to shoot.

"Oh—Ok, this shouldn't be so hard…" Reed said as he aimed for an average shot within the second row, the grip on the weapon gave off the impression that this wasn't the first time he held a weapon.

He didn't take long to fire and hit the target he decided on within the second row.

"Alright, nice shot—you're up next, baldy." The sheriff said, tossing the gun at Gamal.

Gamal barely caught the killing machine, having never touched one before, curiosity kicked in.

Why was it so heavy and what does he expect me to do with this are only a few thoughts that sunk into Gamal's head with the revolver in his fingertips as he dangled and examined it.

The gun went off while he dangled it, alarming him to drop it immediately, the report shuck through his eardrums, leaving a strong sound of a hot tea kettle in the process.

"If ya gonna play with it, don't waste the daggon bullet!" the sheriff said as he swiped the gun back from Gamal, then handed it to the last person, Lucas.

Lucas grasped the gun the same way Paul did, having no knowledge of shooting prior, or having much motivation to continue this process, he went through the same strides that Paul did.

He aimed at the closest target and fired without hesitation, but sadly, he even missed that.

"What?! How did I miss it?!"

The sheriff snatched the gun from Lucas, then announced to the group "Y'all need to work on ya shooting skills, well, everyone but Ichi."

"Told you guys, it's just too easy."

"Wow, ain't he a cocky little bastard?" the Sheriff thought, then said "I don't really have to explain why y'all need work on ya gun skills. Only other student who didn't do half bad was Reed."

Later that night, all six members of group two had headed back to the cabin and relaxed by the fireplace, awaiting the next day and conversing about the prior events.

Everyone was present within the living room besides Ichi, who didn't feel it necessary to talk with people that didn't offer much to him.

Gamal was also absent, but the others didn't pay much attention to someone who didn't give them a reason for recognition, especially with him babbling about superiority over them when he clearly wasn't as talented as someone like Ichi.

"Where'd Ichi go?" Kumo asked.

"He went off to his room, his precise words were… I don't talk with people beneath me…" Paul replied.

"Hm… sounds about right…" Kumo replied.

"Wow, that guy is a total asshole." Lucas said.

"True… but he's never walking behind his words. He's good." Paul said.

"How long are we supposed to be here anyway?" Reed asked.

"Mr. Murasaki said a month." Paul replied.

"I don't know if I could last that long in this cabin… what do you suppose the others are up to?" Reed replied.