And Chiun, the eighty-year-old Master of Sinanju, held up a small object in one hand and a large stone in the other.
"That's not a rock. That's a bullet." Remo had pointed out.
"It is a rock," Chiun insisted. "It is made of the same material as this other rock. It is smaller. And because it is smaller it has less chance of hitting a target than this large rock."
"Bullets are different, Little Father," Remo had replied. "They travel faster. So they hit harder. They're deadly."
"Are you more dead being killed by a little rock than a big rock?"
Remo had to think about that a minute. "No," he told Chiun. It was long ago. They had been in the gymnasium of Folcroft Sanitarium, where Remo had done his early training. The word "dead" still made him wince in those days. He had been dead in so many ways. Officially dead and dead of mind and body. But through the discipline of Sinanju-the legendary sun source of the martial arts-Chiun had awoken him to his full potential in mind and body. But he was still dead as far as the world knew.
"Good. Now that you understand that dead is dead, I will teach you not to cringe from the little rock just because you imagine it is more fearsome." And Chiun had thrown the large rock at him.
Remo dodged it. Not quite well enough. It struck one elbow right on the funny bone. Remo jumped and howled and clutched his elbow.
And while he was preoccupied with his pain, Chiun picked up a single-shot starter's pistol from a butcherblock table, calmly inserted the bullet, and offered the weapon to Remo, grip first.
"Now you," he said.
Remo took it. "What do I shoot at?"
The old Korean smiled benignly. "Why me, of course."
"I know you. You'll skip out of the way," said Remo, putting the pistol down. "You did that to me the first time we met."
Chiun shrugged. "Fine. Then I will shoot at you." And he picked up the weapon, stepped backward several paces, and drew on Remo.
Remo hit the floor and clamped his hands over his head.
Chiun's smooth brow had wrinkled. "What are you doing? I have not yet pulled the trigger."
"Are you going to?" Remo asked.
"Of course. You surrendered your turn. Now it is mine. "
Remo rolled off to one side and curled into a ball so the bullet, if it struck him, wouldn't penetrate to a vital organ.
"You are doing it wrong," Chiun said petulantly. But his hazel eyes held an amused light.
"That is what I was taught in Vietnam."
"You were taught wrong. You do not react until you see the bullet coming at you."
Remo squeezed himself tighter. "By then it will be too late. "
"You have seen me dodge these little rocks before."
"Yeah."
"Now you will learn. Stand up."
And because he knew that being shot would be infinitelv less painful than disobeying the Master of Sinanju, Remo stood up. His knees felt like water balloons about to break.
"Wait for the bullet," said Chiun, sighting on his stomach.
Remo's hands shot up. "One question first."
Chiun cocked his head to one side like a terrier seeing his first cat.
"Is Smith still going to pay you if I die?"
"Naturally. If you die, the failure will be yours, not mine."
"That's not the answer I was hoping for."
"Hope for nothing," Chiun said. "Expect the worst." And he fired.
Remo hit the floor, the explosive sound of the discharge piercing his ears. He slid along the floor on his stomach, hoping he hadn't been gut-shot.
"Am I hurt?" Remo had asked after a long silence.
"Not unless you are frightened by loud noises."
"How's that?" Remo asked.
"I used a dummy."
Remo's head came up. "Say again."
"Also known as a blank."
Remo climbed to his feet unsteadily. His face was not pleasant.
"You showed me the bullet," Remo said tightly. "That was no blank."
"True," said Chiun, reloading the pistol. "The bullet I showed you is this bullet. It is real. Are you ready?"
"Isn't it my turn again?"
"I have lost track," said Chiun, and fired.
This time Remo's sidewise leap was instinctive. He heard, before the sound of the bullet firing, a cracking noise like a bullwhip lashing out. It was the sound of the bullet passing. Passing! A punching bag behind him exploded in a shower of sawdust.
"I did it!" Remo shouted. "I dodged the bullet."
"I fired wide," Chiun said blandly, reloading the pistol.