Since the event is held in the open air, there is a chance to assassinate. There are two options for assassination. One is to use a revolver or even a grenade to assassinate. The main advantage of using this method is that the success rate is high. If you miss a single blow, you still have time to re-shoot the gun.

However, the disadvantages of doing this are also very obvious. That is, the possibility of shooting and stabbing in an environment with so many people and getting out of the way is quite small.

"There will definitely be many policemen in the venue. Although they will not search and check what everyone has brought, there will be no problem with you bringing two revolvers in. But after shooting, if you want to escape in a place with so many policemen, I think the possibility is too small. Even if it is not done well, you will also implicate me. Therefore, you don't need to think about the plan for close-range assassination." Mr. Pidul first directly denied this plan.

"If this is not the case, what else can I do?" Martin asked.

"I heard you have good shooting skills?" Pidul asked.

"It's okay," Martin replied.

"If there is a good gun, a good gun with smokeless fire medicine, how far can you hit the target?" Pidul asked.

The so-called good guns that use smokeless launching drugs naturally refer to the new French rifles. It is said that because the cost of smokeless launching drugs is too high, even the French Army does not generally equip such rifles, and only a small number of elite hunters are unable to equip such things.

However, in the civil rifle market, you can buy this thing as long as you are willing to pay, but the price is quite high. Before the war in North America ended, Martin saw such a rifle from his comrade. His comrade was a rich man, with hundreds of black slaves at home, so his things were the best. Compared with ordinary rifles, this rifle had a much smaller caliber. It was only a little more than 0.3 inches. The diameter was small, and the bullets were naturally smaller. However, because the launching medicine was more powerful, the effective range of this gun was far greater than that of ordinary rifles, and in the hands of some experts, he could even shoot targets three or four hundred meters away quite accurately.

Martin, who liked to play with guns at that time, also asked about the price, and then forced himself to forget the thing. But now when Pidul mentioned this, Martin immediately remembered that kind of rifle.

"You are talking about Chris' shotgun? Oh, that thing is really a good thing, it's too expensive. You can buy twenty ordinary shotguns with a Chris' shotgun. If it's a collector's version of ivory handle, it's even more expensive. And what's even more deadly is that bullets are expensive. Every bullet is enough to buy twenty ordinary bullets. Bullets are consumables. If they are not rich, who can afford them?" Martin said.

"Well, it's a little more expensive, but it's a good gun. It's true that only those rich can afford it. I mean, if I had a rifle like this, would you be sure to hit the target at a distance of 300 meters?"

"I don't know, I haven't used this thing. But it's mostly not possible. You know, no matter how good the gunman is, he can't beat it well if he uses an unfamiliar gun." Martin replied.

"Okay, according to the news, there is still some time left. Well, I'll lend you the gun these days, and you can practice it yourself. The bullets will be charged at the market price."

"Then I would rather go to assassinate at close range," said Martin.

"Damn it, isn't your life worth the price of a few bullets?" Pidul said.

"I'm very poor now, and the lives of poor people are worthless!" Martin replied without hesitation.

"It's really hell! Why am I... OK, I'll calculate 60% off for you."

"Threefold!"

"Then you go for a close attack! Well, do you want me to prepare the poison for suicide for you?"

"Why not have a 40% discount, can you do it?"

"At most 50% off, and I will follow you and watch you fight-or else you report a false account and then take my bullets to the black market and sell them?"

"How can you suspect me like this? The basic trust between people!"

"Don't talk about trust, talking about trust hurts money! If you are willing to buy bullets at the original price, I promise to trust you!"

In the following days, Pidul took Martin to hunt in the forest outside the country and practiced his guns. It was said that Martin's shooting foundation was indeed very good. After only ten bullets, he could hit long-distance targets accurately. So three days later, Martin took the initiative to ask Pidul that he felt that the training was almost done, and the rest would be familiar with the empty guns - the damn bullets were too expensive, even if they were 50% off, it was still too expensive.

"It's simply the legendary silver bullet used to fight vampires." Martin said.

Then a few days later, I will go to Harvard University to step on the plate and get familiar with the environment.

After another week, I finally saw news in the newspaper that Professor Boblon had arrived in Boston this morning and would give a speech to Harvard students at the stadium of Harvard University the day after tomorrow.

Martin quickly studied the situation with Pidul.

Pidul spread a map on the table - they drew it based on their own memories. It was not particularly accurate, but it was basically useful.

Look, this is the stadium, and the rostrum is in this direction. I guess our target will appear on the rostrum. Regarding the recognition of targets, um, we saw him once last time in Newton, but the distance is relatively far, and he will soon enter the house. Well, if he is on the rostrum, can you recognize him?

"No problem, his body shape is not easy to make mistakes. His shoulders are also a very obvious feature," said Martin.

"Okay, we need a relatively hidden position now that can launch an attack and quickly retreat after launching an attack." Pidul said.

"Look, this is a sporting goods warehouse in Harvard, which usually stores some sports goods. There are no people in this place, and there are probably no one at this time. You go there in the evening of the first day, open the door and hide in. Because the sports field was occupied the next morning, there is no need to worry about someone coming here." Pidul said, "After shooting, you immediately drop the gun, come out from here, and turn along the road to this side, and I will leave you here a horse. You get on the horse there, and then ride it from this direction--there are fewer policemen in this direction in the past few days. Then, you go north to the forest where we practice guns together, and I will greet you, prepare another horse for you, and then we turn east to the beach, where there will be a boat waiting for us."

Obviously, Pidul's arrangement was quite thorough. Martin thought about it and there were no loopholes. He nodded and said, "Thank you, you are such a good person."

Although Pidul is very stingy, he does help a lot.

The next evening, Martin put Pidul's rifle in a cello box, put it into a college student, and came to the next side of the sports goods warehouse near the sports field. While there was no one around, Martin easily opened the padlock on the warehouse door with a set of prepared tools. Then he entered the warehouse, opened the window again, came out of the window, locked the door again, flipped through the window, closed the window, and now from the outside, looked out of the outside, couldn't tell at all that someone had entered the warehouse.

Martin fed mosquitoes in the warehouse all night, and dozens of bags were bitten out of his body. Even the bag was bitten on his eyelids, which was painful and itchy.

However, after the sun came out, the situation improved a lot. Many stupid mosquitoes sucked too much blood at night, their belly was so bulging that they could hardly fly, and they all slapped on the wall to breathe. Martin slapped it with the pleasure of revenge, and soon his hands were covered with his blood.

After slapping the mosquitoes to death, someone started to move on the sports field. Martin hurriedly kept in a hiding position and quietly observed the sports field from behind the curtains.

There were more students, and there were gradually people sitting on the rostrum. Martin stared at the rostrum. After a while, there were more people, but Favnier still did not show up. Martin was very worried. This guy would not have come. If so, he would have been bitten by mosquitoes in vain.

After a while, perhaps a century, Martin finally saw a tall guy with his shoulders high and low on the other side of his shoulders walking up to the rostrum and sat down behind a table.

"Come on, it's him!" Martin suppressed his excitement and gently picked up the gun. The bullet was loaded, but Pidul only gave him one bullet.

"You won't have time to load the second bullet. If the first shot is not hit, you will have no chance. So don't waste time. After firing the shot, turn around and run immediately, don't hesitate."

Because he had only the chance to fire a shot, Martin was a little nervous. It was less than two hundred meters from the warehouse to the rostrum. At this distance, Martin was quite sure. So he calmed down and aimed, while muttering: "Lord, you are my fortress..."

Martin spent about four or five minutes aiming, and during this period, his breathing and heartbeat gradually calmed down, and even became a little slow. He finally aimed, and gunfire sounded.

The bullet directly hit Favnier's chest. At first, Martin wanted to aim at his head, but to be on the safe side, he chose a bigger chest. After all, as long as he hits the chest, the chance of not dying under the medical level of this era is very small.

Favnier was shot, and he reached out to grab it in the air, as if he wanted to grab something, and then fell down. However, Martin had no time to see this, so he threw down the gun, opened the window on the other side, and jumped out. Then he ran along the scheduled route.
Chapter completed!