gnovel Chapter 11 Killing the Bandits Who Broke into the Camp
Chapter 11 Killing the Bandits Who Broke into the Camp
Because Tom hunted a stag last night, Margaret cooked a pot of venison early this morning!
The rich aroma of meat filled the air of the camp.
"I can't believe Tom hunted it!" Mary said, fiddling with the freshly picked wild fruit in her hand.
Margaret smiled slightly. "I never expected my little pony to be so successful!"
In this wilderness, meat is just as precious as fruits and vegetables.
A deer weighing over 100 pounds can easily yield dozens of pounds of good meat.
The internal organs are treasures, especially that deer penis, which James is sure to love!
Suddenly, the sound of rapid hoofbeats grew louder as they approached!
Margaret suddenly stood up.
Five unfamiliar cowboys appeared in the camp!
The cowboy leader asked, "Where's the head of the convoy?"
Margaret feigned composure and said, "They're stationed in the south!"
The cowboy leader, seeing the European immigrants in the camp, laughed and said, "Damn Gypsies! Gypsies don't carry much stuff when they travel, I know that, but you, being Irish, always carry a lot."
"I'll ask you one more time, where's the head of your convoy?"
"You'll see him soon!" Margaret's voice was tense.
At this moment, Claire rushed forward, shouting angrily, "We have nothing! Get out! Get out now!"
The cowboy leader tilted his head mockingly at his companions: "Did you hear that? She told us to get lost!"
A companion leaned close to his ear and whispered a few words.
Joseph, the only European immigrant in the group who understood English, mustered his courage and asked, "What do you want?"
The cowboy leader patted his horse's neck cheerfully: "As far as I know, this river belongs to everyone!" Before he finished speaking, he flicked the reins, ready to urge the horse into the river!
boom!
A deafening gunshot ripped through the air! Several cowboys instantly drew their guns, looking in the direction of the sound with surprise and uncertainty.
A slender boy, about fifteen or sixteen years old, stood there, a wisp of smoke still rising from the muzzle of his gun. It was clear that he had fired the shot.
"Don't be nervous, cowboys!" Tom stood firmly in place, the holsters on his sides particularly eye-catching.
What's even more eye-catching is the row of golden bullets on the sling strap.
"Judging by your outfits, are you 'quick-draw gunslingers' from Fort Worth?" Tom's voice was filled with biting sarcasm.
"I've seen plenty of people like you. You call yourselves brave cowboys of the West, expert marksmen? A cold smile played on your lips. Deep down, you're nothing but a bunch of robbers and thugs! You prey on the old, the weak, women, and children to show off your meager skills! Am I wrong?"
That blatant mockery completely enraged the cowboys. "Who the hell are you?"
"Tom. Tom Dutton!" The voice wasn't loud, but it sounded like a loaded pistol pressed against his lower back.
"Enough with the nonsense. We all know what you want. You think you can take our stuff so easily? Not so easy! Let's play by the rules: a duel, death or life!"
The gunmen exchanged glances. The leader spat, "Kid, this isn't a place for you to play house..."
“I remember,” Tom interrupted him, his voice suddenly rising, “a duel cannot be refused! Unless…you want to be cowards!”
"F**k!" The lead gunman tumbled off his horse, his boots slamming heavily into the dust.
Their gazes were like knives, locked on each other with unwavering intensity.
The entire camp fell into a deathly silence!
"Tom!" Margaret screamed in terror.
"If you want your son to die right now, keep yelling!" Tom didn't even lift his eyelids, his cold gaze locked onto his opponent.
boom!
Another shot rang out! The immigrants stared in shock.
Margaret covered her mouth tightly with both hands, tears welling up in her eyes.
The cowboys' faces were filled with disbelief!
Their leader, with a bloody hole between his eyebrows, collapsed to the ground, motionless!
"He...he couldn't even get his hands on the gun properly!" a cowboy exclaimed.
"Who else?!" Tom's roar erupted from deep within his throat, rising in pitch, tinged with bloody madness. "Who else?!"
"My name is Tom! Tom Dutton!" He stepped forward, his gun barrel sweeping over the remaining four riders. "Do you fucking know who you've messed with?!"
"You've provoked a demon who crawled back from hell! You've dragged him back to this world with your own hands!"
"You are sinners! The villains of the world will curse you! For you have summoned their mortal enemy!"
With Tom's roar, the gunmen on horseback tightened their reins in alarm, and the horses snorted uneasily.
"Ah!" one of the gunmen cried out instinctively.
boom!
Tom flicked his wrist, and another shot flashed! The screaming gunman also had blood bloom between his eyebrows and fell off his horse with a thud!
"I...I surrender!"
"I surrender too!"
With someone taking the lead, the remaining three gunmen were terrified, their guns clattering to the ground.
"Very well," Tom's voice returned to its cold calm, "If you want to live, behave yourself. Trying to play tricks? Then go down and join them!"
Seeing their companion's wide-open, lifeless eyes on the ground, the three gunmen shuddered.
"Take out all the money you have! Throw it on the ground, holsters and all!"
The three men were stunned for a moment, then realized what was happening and hurriedly emptied their pockets of coins and banknotes, throwing them along with the holsters at their feet.
They had spare guns clipped to their belts, but they didn't even dare to mention them.
boom!
The slightly overweight gunman froze abruptly, staring incredulously at the blood-gushing hole in his chest, before collapsing to the ground with a thud.
"You," Tom pointed his gun at the gunman beside him, "Go! Search him thoroughly!"
The gunman was completely stunned and instinctively rushed to the body to grope around.
Finally, he shakily pulled two crumpled green banknotes from the dead man's boot.
The other two surviving gunmen stared at Tom in horror. How did he know?
Tom knew, of course.
In his mind, he could clearly see every movement of these people, every pocket under their clothes, and even the secrets hidden in the soles of their shoes.
As for why... he didn't have time to investigate further for the time being.
"Do you want to live?" Tom's voice was devoid of any warmth.
The last two gunmen nodded frantically, like they were pounding garlic.
The robbery attempt failed and resulted in the loss of three lives; being able to leave alive is an immense blessing!
"Only one of you can live!" Tom's cold gaze swept over the revolver on the ground.
The two remaining gunmen instantly understood his meaning.
"start!"
The moment Tom finished speaking, the two pounced on the gun on the ground like hungry wolves!
boom!
Gunshots rang out! One of the gunmen jerked violently and fell to the ground.
The survivor, a man who had narrowly escaped death, burst into wild joy, throwing his head back and laughing heartily: "Ha—"
boom!
The laughter abruptly stopped. The ecstasy on his face froze, replaced by incredulous astonishment. He slowly looked down at his bleeding chest, then stared intently at Tom.
Tom simply shrugged casually, wisps of smoke drifting from the muzzle of his gun.
"Tsk," he said, a hint of mocking regret in his voice, "I already told you I'm a demon, how can you still believe me?"