[Iskandar watches Archer load a gun. He's not exactly sure he could repeat the process. It seems a complicated mechanism. Might need several tries.]
A gun, eh? I'll remember that word.

[A hiss and a splat following each shot connecting with the target makes him nod in appreciation of the visible skill of the shooter. But then the last remark Archer makes ruins everything.]

Nobody under the sun would ever believe you. That was no casual practice. Aren't you by chance an archer?