Chapter 6: Evil never ends
Chapter 6: Evil never ends
Of course, Tang Mo couldn't possibly think about such far-reaching implications and their relation to him at this time. He was beginning to feel a little tense.
Keep in mind that his Left-Wheel Handgun had already fired three shots! Three bullets remained in the chamber, and these were his only significant source of firepower for the short term.
He also didn't have the time to check how many rifles old Roger had managed to reload behind him, so the only confirmed firepower he could rely on was the three live rounds in the handgun he was holding.
Moreover, to be honest, who would know if one of these era's paper cartridge bullets might malfunction? So Tang Mo was also full of worries about the current battle situation, which had begun to exceed his expectations.
Because he really had no idea how many men the bandits had, the risk on the battlefield was evidently becoming higher and higher as the readily available bullets for immediate firing diminished.
For Tang Mo, this situation was awful, as the more he killed, the more he fanned the flames of the bandits' animosity.
If he were to be captured later, he guessed that to appease their underlings, the enemy would probably make an example out of him, chop him into pieces, and feed him to the dogs...
"Yah!" A bandit with bloodshot eyes appeared again, and this time he burst out of the roadside bushes with a loud shout.
Clearly, he wasn't trying to intimidate Tang Mo but was bolstering his own courage. Even though he didn't believe Tang Mo's weapon could fire continuously, the fact that so many of his men had already died meant these mountain thieves were now in too deep to retreat.
In such deep mountains and dense forests where they made their living by ambushing and robbing, numbers were fundamental to their survival. After losing a large number of their combatants, their likely fate was nothing short of annihilation.
So, at this point, these men almost entirely lacked the will to flee. Instead, driven by desperation, they were preparing to muster all their courage and take down these strangers who had appeared from nowhere.
Of course, Tang Mo wasn't about to surrender without a fight. Even though he increasingly felt that the situation was slipping out of his control, just sitting back and accepting his fate was not in his nature.
Therefore, when the bandit burst from the bushes, at the very first sight of him, Tang Mo swiveled the muzzle of the gun and took aim.
When the bandit was still five or six paces away, Tang Mo pulled the trigger once more. This time, he made some aiming adjustments beforehand, so the bullet struck the bandit in a vital area.
The man's head was instantly pierced by the bullet, and he toppled backward, crashing next to a corpse.
His longsword fell to the ground with a clanking sound, and accompanied by that crisp noise, another bandit, slinging a bow and arrows, finally charged into the lighted area.
This bandit was muscular, with bulging arms visible underneath his clothes, wearing an iron helmet, and astonishingly, he even donned a hauberk.
Obviously, this was the chief bandit. Tang Mo confirmed this the moment he saw his attire and the momentum with which he charged forward.
The bandit was well equipped and strong. He closed in on Tang Mo in just a few strides. Tang Mo didn't hesitate to greet the burly man with another pull of his trigger.
"Bang!" A gunshot and a puff of white smoke from the muzzle appeared almost simultaneously, and a bullet flew out of the barrel, relentlessly smashing into the man's hauberk.
It turned out that hauberks really couldn't stop bullets fired from close range, not even plate armor could!
However, due to the deflection by the hauberk, the burly man staggered from the impact but still managed to raise his longsword high and charge at Tang Mo.
Bathed in the gas lamp's light hanging from the side of the carriage, Tang Mo could even see the cold, sharp gleam reflecting off the point of the bandit's blade.
Feeling the pressure from the man and the coldness seeping from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, Tang Mo didn't hesitate to pull the trigger again.
As Tang Mo pulled the trigger, the cylinder started rotating and the linkage mechanism reliably completed the work of reloading and firing.
The next second, amidst the bandit's horrified gaze, a cloud of white smoke enveloped his vision, and a bullet struck his body.
He had already been hit hard by the first shot, was in fact already injured, with the blood soaking the shirt under his hauberk and streaming down the cold armor.
The interlocking rings of the hauberk were severely deformed by the tremendous force at the point of bullet impact, with many of the links having fallen off. In the center of these twisted rings was a bleeding hole.
And this second shot had made another hole in that hauberk, this time striking the left side of his chest. After penetrating the hauberk, the bullet plunged into his heart.
To his dying breath, he never imagined what Tang Mo held in his hands, able to fire five shots in one go and thus let him and his brothers fall in a fatal encounter like this.
Of course, Wes was also astonished, standing there gripping his own longsword, his hands uncontrollably trembling.
This wasn't because he was scared by the bloody scene at hand; as a ranger, he had seen more gruesome sights than this.
He was shaken by shock—he felt that his own quick reflexes and extensive combat experience had become a joke in front of this young man.
He had endured countless fierce battles, but now, looking at Tang Mo, he felt that this young man was an even more terrifying demon than the bandits.
Even if he were to face ten more bandits, Wes would have the courage and confidence to contend with them, even to risk his life to kill these bastards one by one.
However, when he saw the weapon in Tang Mo's hand, he began to waver and doubt his own strength. To some degree, Tang Mo had overturned everything on which he relied for survival!
It was like an old master who had taught the theory of a flat earth his whole life suddenly encountered the concept of a round earth; it was like a physician who had bled patients for years suddenly learning the correct medical theories.
In any case, this paradigm shift made Wes's breathing become erratic; he subconsciously tugged at his collar, not even caring when the buttons popped off.
A divine weapon capable of firing five shots in close combat! A treasure that could quickly end a fight regardless of how the enemy dodged.
From now on, the existence of Rangers might be in question, any child or elder who held such a weapon in hand could easily kill an experienced, battle-hardened mercenary Ranger!
Tang Mo could smell the blood scent growing ever stronger in the air, a stench of sulfur that could hardly cover it.
His nerves remained taut, but the sudden, continuous silence made him more aware of the details around him.
Around the carriage, bodies of various kinds lay scattered about. There were seven bandits that Tang Mo had personally shot dead within sight!
Even though Tang Mo had seen dead bodies before crossing over, he now couldn't help feeling his stomach churning involuntarily.
Since Wes was still alive, there should be at least two more bodies behind the carriage, meaning that nine of the thieves had become cold corpses.
"Wes! Stay hidden," Tang Mo ordered, holding his Left-Wheel Handgun, waiting for the white smoke in front of the carriage door to disperse. The lingering smoke from the gunpowder, illuminated by the gas lamp, tumbled about as if it had a life of its own.
He issued a reminder, and Wes immediately snapped back to his senses, quickly taking cover behind the carriage, vigilantly observing his surroundings.
The atmosphere suddenly turned eerie, and apart from the sounds of insects beginning to chirp again, there was no other noise around.
Either the bandits had all died at the hands of Tang Mo's gun, or the remaining bandits, seeing their comrades dead in droves, had finally lost the courage to flee.
Either way, the situation for Tang Mo and his companions was gradually improving, at least after Roger had finished reloading the third Quick Gun, he gave Tang Mo a slight signal.
Although there were no more bullets left in Tang Mo's revolver at the moment, counting the three rifles Roger had just reloaded, he now had the capacity to fire three consecutive shots.
Meanwhile, with the light of the gas lamp, Wes had also reloaded his flintlock pistol, which meant that Tang Mo's side had almost regained about half of its combat strength.
Under such circumstances, should the bandits rashly attack again, they would definitely suffer another major loss—perhaps the lives of four more men, or maybe even more...
"Wes... go clear the roadblock!" After waiting for approximately five minutes, with still no sound coming from the woods, Tang Mo finally knew that the danger seemed to have passed.
But he didn't show any sign of relaxation because he knew that their battle had not been thoroughly carried out.
At the start of the fight, two arrows had struck the carriage from different angles, which meant there were two archers among the opponents.
Tang Mo got out of the carriage to check the seven bodies nearby, only to find that only the last big man had a bow and arrows on him.
Bandits poor enough to rob here wouldn't just throw away their weapons for no reason, so the other bow must be with the one who fled.
At least one person had escaped! Tang Mo was almost certain of it. And the one who escaped had almost witnessed the entire battle process!
This person had seen the Left-Wheel Handgun in Tang Mo's hand and knew that the weapon was a divine weapon that could rewrite the mode of war—for Tang Mo, letting go of such an unstable threat was far from a good thing.
But this was the Vicious Forest, and it was night. If the person just stayed quiet in one spot, finding him would be nearly impossible.
Tang Mo certainly didn't have the courage to spread out and search for a bandit at the risk of his life in such low visibility. So he could only suppress the unease in his heart and prepare to continue on the journey.
Fortunately, the opponent definitely did not know the identity of the three of them, so even if they knew about the Left-Wheel Handgun, they wouldn't be able to find Tang Mo for a while.
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Dragon Spirit is stockpiling manuscripts, there's no helping it, Dragon Spirit indeed didn't have a stockpile before, and this book started quickly, so it was destined not to have many chapters in reserve—but stockpile is a must to cope with the outburst during the new book period, so Dragon Spirit could only write more, release less, and slowly accumulate.
Don't worry, don't be impatient, when the editor demands an outburst, Dragon Spirit will surely burst forth, releasing more chapters.