Chapter 2 - THE UNMASKING OF A PHANTOMWithin twenty-four hours, the footage of the "Broomstick Shooter" blew up across every social media platform on the planet. Millions of views turned into tens of millions. The video was reuploaded with dramatic captions: “Champion Humiliates Janitor—Gets Instantly Destroyed!”
Emma’s pristine public image collapsed overnight. Her major sponsors began putting her multi-million-dollar endorsement contracts on hold. Angry comments flooded her profile, branding her a arrogant bully. Furious and desperate to save her career, Emma demanded an emergency investigation by the National Shooting Federation.
"She tampered with my equipment! She staged it!" Emma yelled inside the VIP conference room, slamming her fists on the table before the Federation executives. "She’s a nobody! A dirty floor sweeper! Find out who she is and sue her into oblivion!"
Sitting across the table was Chief Inspector Vance, a veteran sports investigator and former military contractor. He slowly opened a thick black dossier and slid it across the table toward Emma.
"Her name is Sarah Vance," the Inspector said quietly.
Emma sneered. "Vance? Is she related to you?"
"She's my niece," the Inspector replied, his eyes cold as ice. "And she is far from a 'nobody,' Emma."
Emma went pale as the Inspector began flipping through the classified documents inside the folder.
"Eight years ago, before you even picked up your first air rifle, Sarah was the youngest prodigy in the history of the military sharpshooter division," Vance explained. "At eighteen, she set world records that were classified under national defense protocols. She wasn't competing for plastic trophies. She was deployed in high-risk hostage extraction zones."
"Then why the hell was she sweeping floors in my arena?!" Emma snapped, trying to hide her growing dread.
"Because six years ago, during a counter-terrorism operation, her spotter—her younger brother—was killed by a sniper," Vance said, his voice dripping with venom. "Sarah blamed herself. She developed severe post-traumatic stress, resigned from the elite forces, and vowed never to pull a trigger again. She took a quiet, humble job as a janitor just to stay near the atmosphere of shooting ranges without having to confront her past."
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Emma staggered back, shocked. The quiet girl she had pushed and insulted wasn't a weak outcast; she was a lethal legend who had walked through hell.
"You didn't just insult a cleaner, Emma," Inspector Vance leaned in, his voice a deadly whisper. "You poked a sleeping dragon. And the media isn't going to let this go. The International Shooting Masters Tournament is next month. If you don't face her on an official range, your career is officially dead."
