The most shameless alchemist in history

They raised their gunpowder guns and aimed at the carriage, and people began to climb in through the windows.

The carriage was very spacious; there were only a little over a hundred people on the entire train.

Under the bandits' shouts, the passengers were quickly forced off the carriage and gathered in one place.

"Hand over all your valuables. Put them all in this box, see? Behave yourselves and hand them over obediently, and I'll spare your lives. If anyone dares to be dishonest or try anything funny, I'll have to shoot them dead!"

The leader of the bandits had a scar on his face that ran from the corner of his eye to his chin, making him look extremely fierce.

The passengers looked at each other in bewilderment, and one by one, some of them threw their belongings into the suitcase.

"Only this much? Kid, what is this? What is it?"

The bandits patrolled back and forth, clearly not satisfied with the contents of the box.

Soon, the fierce bandit leader grabbed a young man next to him and pulled a gold pocket watch from his pocket.

"This is what my father left me. It's the only thing he gave me. You can have everything else of value. Please, please leave this to me. I beg you..." he pleaded desperately.

"Didn't you understand what I just said? Hand over all your valuables. What do you mean by 'all'? Don't you understand? It seems that unless we blast a hole in your head, no one will know how powerful we are." He pressed a flintlock pistol against the young man's forehead.

They pinned him to the ground, stepped on his back, and were about to shoot!

"Hey, you're just after money, there's no need to kill anyone," someone in the crowd couldn't help but say.

The bandit leader turned around to look at the person who had spoken and found that it was a middle-aged man of similar age to himself.

And that guy was wearing a cowboy hat, which made his look rather unconventional.

"Who do you think you are? Did I even speak to you? Or are you planning to stand up for him?"

The bandit leader temporarily abandoned the young man and stormed over angrily.

"I am an explorer named Marco Polo. If you've read travelogues or read geography magazines, you've definitely heard of me, right?"

"Marco Polo? Have you heard of him?" The bandit leader turned to ask his men.

His men all shook their heads.

"Ahem, well... it's alright if you haven't heard of me. Anyway, we'll cooperate with you as much as possible. Please don't hurt these innocent people, okay?" Marco Polo was a little embarrassed, but he still negotiated with the bandits.

907 A chance encounter

Marco Polo was a man who cherished freedom; otherwise, he wouldn't have embarked on a journey to travel to various parts of the continent when he was just a teenager.

After all, most people probably never leave the confines of a small city in their entire lives, busy in their fixed little circles.

At the same time, he was also a shrewd person, because he knew that going to different places on the mainland would inevitably lead to different situations.

This includes different local customs and unexpected events; without exceptional reaction skills, one would have been dead long ago on the road.

This wasn't the first time he'd dealt with bandits, so he knew these bandits never cared about human life.

All they care about is money, and whether they can make a lot of money in one go.

Therefore, he cooperated fully with the bandits and persuaded the travelers to hand over their hidden valuables.

Because these bandits kill without blinking an eye, if someone tries to be clever, the bandits will not hesitate to kill the smuggler.

Perhaps some things are indeed important, but if you lose your life, then they are meaningless.

"Well then, gentlemen of the bandits, we have cooperated by handing over all the valuables to you, so we should say goodbye now, right? We'll continue on our journey by train, and you can ride off into the wilderness. No one will be harmed. It's a peaceful resolution, isn't it?"

Marco Polo took off his hat and bowed slightly. Through his persuasion, the young man who should have had his head smashed to pieces survived.

After all, for the bandits, the young man's life was not important; what mattered was getting the money.

The important thing is that no one else will be so foolish as to stand up to them.

“Mr. Marco Polo, my pocket watch…” The young man saw the gold pocket watch in the bandit’s hand; it was his father’s keepsake.

He was heartbroken that he had failed to protect the pocket watch properly!

"Alright, alright, you'll still have a chance to redeem the gold pocket watch later, but if you get beaten to death, you'll lose everything. Be rational."

Marco Polo kindly persuaded the young man, who eventually had no choice but to hold back his tears.

"And you, what's in that box of yours?" The bandits quickly stopped in front of Du Lei.

All the passengers except Dure handed over their belongings, but he alone remained unmoved.

“What’s inside the box is something untouchable,” Dure replied calmly.

"Kid, are you trying to play dumb with me?" The bandit leader had finally managed to soften his tone a bit.

He was furious to find another troublemaker.

He stormed forward, raised his flintlock pistol, and pressed it against Dure's head, which startled Marco Polo.

"Young man, you'd better cooperate a little. Nothing is more important than life."

He assumed that Du Lei was the kind of person who valued money over life. Although he and Du Lei were just casual acquaintances, he didn't want anything to happen to Du Lei.

“I’m fully cooperative, but this item cannot be given to you. If it is, you will die,” Du Lei said, shaking his head.

"What a joke! Giving it to us would kill you? Kid, I don't know if we'll die, but you definitely will. Get out of my way!"

The bandit leader kicked Marco Polo away, determined to kill him.

"Let's talk this out, don't be impulsive, buddy. Don't play with your life..."

Marco Polo wanted to persuade them, but at that moment a muffled gunshot rang out.

"boom!"

Someone fell to the ground with a thud, which made Marco Polo's eyes widen, because it wasn't Dure who had fallen.

The one who fell to the ground was the bandit leader, which surprised everyone, but it wasn't Du Lei who knocked him down.

Because Du Lei didn't have a gun, the bandit leader was shot to death by a gun, and one with extremely high power at that.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been sent flying more than ten steps backward.

To everyone's astonishment, someone slowly walked down the hillside.

There were seven people who came down, men and women, young and old, tall and short, fat and thin.

These seven people have very unique appearances, including a girl in a pink dress carrying a heavy rifle.

The gun was still emitting blue smoke; clearly, she was the one who fired the shot.

This gun is much larger than a regular gunpowder gun, and judging by its weight, it must be quite heavy; even an adult man might not be able to lift it.

She looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, and not particularly strong; on the contrary, she looked very slender.

Yet, she killed the bandit leader with ease, without the slightest fluctuation in her expression.

Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment until the bandits were the first to come to their senses.

"Kill them and avenge our boss!" someone shouted.

Immediately, thirty or forty gunpowder guns were aimed at the group of people coming down the hillside.

They didn't care about the background of these people. Anyone who dared to oppose them would only face one fate.

dead!

"Clang clang clang." Another series of crisp sounds rang out.

This wasn't the sound of a gunpowder gun, but rather the sound of metal hitting the ground.

Then a loud "bang" rang out, and a bandit screamed in agony, clutching his hand and wailing.

The gun exploded, and the blast hit his hand.

The gun suddenly exploded because the barrel had been cut off with a sharp weapon.

Almost instantly, the barrels of more than forty guns were all cut in half by a sharp weapon.

Until a figure slowly landed.

"What...what's going on? Who are you people? Are you devils?"

The bandits saw a boy of about seventeen or eighteen years old holding a dagger, looking at them with a gloomy expression.

The bandits gradually realized that these were no ordinary people, but a group of powerful magic users!

"You ask who we are? That's an interesting question, but unfortunately, I can't answer it. However, there is someone else who can answer it for me," he said with a chuckle.

"Another person? Who?" the bandit asked instinctively.

"The other person is... Death!" He suddenly threw the dagger in his hand.

The bandit who had just asked the question was instantly pierced through by the dagger. His movements were clean and swift, without the slightest hesitation.

He quickly closed in, moving with ease among the dozens of bandits at an incredible speed, making him impossible to see clearly.

In a very short time, six or seven bandits fell to the ground.

"They, they are Nightingales, run!" A bandit suddenly remembered an assassination group that always hid in the shadows.

They panicked and fled, and soon the remaining twenty-odd bandits escaped to the other side of the hillside.

"Hey, you're running away already? That's no fun, it's not even a warm-up." He was about to give chase.

But just then, another cavalry unit arrived from not far away. He squinted at them and held his sword horizontally.

However, he soon noticed that the group of people who came were not bandits; they were all wearing the standard military uniforms of the Flame Kingdom.

There were about forty or fifty of them, and they were chasing after the fleeing bandits.

Three of them rode up on horseback and eventually stopped beside the train.

"I'm very sorry to have startled you all. I'm the local sheriff. I came here with my men after receiving the news. I hope everyone is safe and sound. But you are..." The leader was a young man who looked to be in his late twenties.

He was dressed in a crisp military uniform, handsome, and tall. As he apologized, he looked at the dead body lying on the ground.

Then he looked at the boy with the knife and frowned.

"Sir, it's great that you arrived in time. My name is Marco Polo, and I'm an explorer. This is Redu. As for these gentlemen, they were the ones who helped us deal with the bandits just now; otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable," Marco Polo said, pointing to Redu and the others.

"You are... Du Lei?" The young sheriff was taken aback when he saw Du Lei.

“It’s Redu, not Du Lei… Huh? You two know each other?” Marco Polo looked at the two people in surprise.

“Matthew?” Dure thought for a moment, then quickly found the corresponding face in his memory.