Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"boom!"

"boom!"

He never hesitated; the instant he started, he raised his hand and fired a shot from each side, knocking the two men off their horses—their tension was too great, and the difference in experience, subtle yet undeniable, was starkly apparent. Their hands seemed glued to the gun handles, unable to pull them out even in death.

----

"Stand up!" A revolver was pressed against Zhang Renfeng's head, and he shouted angrily, spitting saliva into the food.

Zhang Renfeng gave him a look of utter disgust, then decisively pushed the plate away, thus ending the meal.

More people surrounded him from the side, their faces contorted with rage, like a pack of vicious wild dogs, eager to tear him to pieces.

"You look familiar," Zhang Renfeng said with a grin, showing no sense of danger whatsoever. "Didn't I beat you up at the tavern?"

This only fueled the man's anger. He pressed the firing pin of his revolver and roared, "Stand up and come with us! The boss said you're done for, he's going to hang you!"

"Okay, okay, I got it. Can I have one last cigarette? In my hometown, even prisoners facing execution get a last meal before they die."

Zhang Renfeng grumbled, took out a cigarette, and put it in his mouth. He then slowly lit a match, leaned back in his chair, and began to puff away.

He was incredibly relaxed, showing no sign that this was the last cigarette of his life. It was more like a casual pastime, relaxed, carefree, and even a little arrogant.

"Are you done? Stop dawdling, hurry up if you're done..."

Before he finished speaking, Zhang Renfeng suddenly used the cigarette he was holding as a hidden weapon, curled his tongue, and spat it out of his mouth!

The cigarette butt pierced the man's eye perfectly.

"hiss……"

The most vulnerable part of the human body was suddenly burned by high temperature, and the sound and smell made the man scream involuntarily.

This wasn't just a feigned scream; it was an absolute, heart-wrenching scream of terror.

"ah----!!"

Just as Zhang Renfeng had anticipated, the scream sent shivers down everyone's spines and bought him enough time. He ducked down, quickly crawled under the table, and with a sudden burst of strength, overturned it. Bowls, plates, knives, and forks clattered down, and the table became his temporary cover, just like it had been at the Red Bird Tavern.

However, this time, there were more than fifteen people.

Judging from this, Tuku has given a gun to everyone in Scarface Village who is still able to move, and sent them here to deal with him.

“Ha…that coward…” Zhang Renfeng saw through the picture library completely, revealed a disdainful sneer, and shook his head.

Fortunately, it wasn't a big problem; they came in groups, and he had friends too.

Darkness was his friend.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"

The Volcano Pistol's distinctive slow, deep firing sound; three shots completely cut off the light source in the room.

The cottage in the photo library looks luxurious, but it is actually lit by candles.

Of course, he did have kerosene lamps, but they were only kept in his room. In this desolate wilderness, candles were a precious resource for lighting, and three shots extinguished the flames with pinpoint accuracy, plunging the room into darkness. He fired a few more shots, breaking the wooden supports of the window and blocking out the already limited light from outside.

The room instantly went dark, with only the painful gasps of the unfortunate man whose eyes had been lit by cigarettes echoing in the empty wooden house.

Even outside the wild, darkness is enough to make one curl up in a ball. Nothing is more effective at helping people see their place in nature.

The gunmen, momentarily losing sight of Zhang Renfeng and unable to pinpoint his location, unleashed a furious barrage of fire at the dining table. Revolvers, shotguns, rifles… whatever bullets they had, they used, their extreme terror culminating in a torrent of angry curses, all poured onto the innocent table. Even the thickest wooden table, under such firepower, would be pierced through in an instant.

The venting of anger amidst gunfire should come to an end.

Encouraged by the crowd, someone mustered his courage, raised his gun, and moved forward, almost step by step, until he reached the table. He glanced inside, and what he saw shocked him so much that he could barely hold his gun.

"Nobody's here! He's not dead yet!"

These words were like a bomb, landing in the crowd and causing a stir. Some people couldn't understand how any creature could survive such firepower. To put it more bluntly, were they really fighting against "humans"?

Amidst the flashes of gunfire, no one saw when Zhang Renfeng escaped or where he went, but the mission given to them by the library could not be left unfinished. Under the oppressive darkness, people began to unconsciously huddle together, and under the pressure, they neglected a position they should have been paying attention to.

floor.

In a panic, a person becomes highly tense and sensitive. A man felt something touching his leg. At first, he thought it was because they were too close and his legs were touching someone else's, so he didn't pay attention.

It wasn't until he realized the sensation was clearly metallic that he burst into a tirade, "F**k! Whose gun is that? It's poking my leg! Put it away properly..."

The moment he looked down, his blood ran cold.

From the tangled legs, shoes, and darkness, a gleaming gun emerges.

The Volcano Pistol's distinctive design, with its relatively long barrel, coupled with that calloused hand hidden in the darkness... sent chills down his spine.

"Wait, wait a minute..."

"boom!"

One shot.

Chickens flew and eggs were smashed; blood flowed everywhere!

Chapter 41: When I say it's over, it's truly over.

The tearing pain and phantom ache from that gunshot were almost fatal for a man. He couldn't even scream; he could only clutch his bleeding groin, shivering and gasping for breath. At the same time, someone finally noticed the face lying on the ground, a face that seemed like a demon, staring at them.

"He's on the ground, on the ground!"

"ah----!!"

Faced with an opponent who doesn't play by the rules at all, rationality is gradually eroded, and the way of shooting becomes casual and unprofessional.

The intermittent bursts of gunfire became the only source of light in the room, barely enough to make out what was happening—Zhang Renfeng, lying on his back, spun rapidly across the floor like a top. He laughed maniacally as he methodically fired, bullets shooting upwards into bodies, eliciting screams of agony.

Ground fighting is a style of boxing where the user spends most of their time lying on the ground, using a low-position attack to strike a high-position opponent. It complements the relatively lacking ground techniques in martial arts, incorporates some grappling techniques, and places particularly high demands on the coordination of the back muscles.

Zhang Renfeng further modified it to be even more bizarre, replacing every punch with a bullet, making it faster and more direct. Relying on his well-developed and flexible latissimus dorsi muscles, he spun around on the ground, emptying both Volcano Pistols of ammunition.

The room was filled with groans and screams. Those shot in the groin were naturally unable to stand, lying down or kneeling. This meant that Zhang Renfeng was no longer the only one in a "lower position." They dared not fire rashly, fearing they might hit their own men. Amidst the near-desperate groans and screams, Zhang Renfeng lay beneath a man who had already fainted from the pain and silently changed his bullet.

Raise your gun and fire again!

"Bang!" "Bang!"

"Bang!" "Bang!"

……

The dull thud of the volcano pistol, like the roar of a wild beast, left claw marks on their bodies under the cover of darkness.

Blood splattered across the floor, the stench of blood triggering a variety of physiological reactions, gradually crushing their nerves and reinforcing their belief that this guy couldn't be defeated by ordinary bullets.

At least, I can't do it myself.

Seeing this horrific scene, the remaining henchmen were all still shaken. For a brief moment, the fear of being blown up even overwhelmed their fear of the library. No matter how much money they made a month, risking their lives was not worth it, and desperate criminals often valued their lives more than they showed.

Some people began to have second thoughts and reached for the doorknob behind them.

"laugh--!!"

A sharp sound suddenly rang out, and the instant he touched the doorknob, it pierced through the back of his hand. With a sickening thud, blood and flesh splattered, pinning his hand firmly to the door panel.

"Ah! Ah—!!! My hand...my hand!"

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a leftover lamb rib.

"No, no, no, no..."

From the depths of the empty hall came a whisper, not loud, but carrying a terrifying sense of oppression. Everyone even felt that what was in the darkness was no longer a concrete "person," but rather a battle against something beyond their comprehension.

For him, reaping lives is a game, an exercise, and a pastime after dinner.

"Between us, you have to wait until I say it's over..."

The figure wielding two volcanoes slowly emerged from the darkness, like a death god bathed in blood.

Those calm, dark eyes reflected only the withered bones and corpses of the guilty.

"That's when it's truly over."

His figure weaved through the gunfire, charging forward!

----

The moment Alana lit the candle with a match, she saw Tuku's tense face and was startled. But she quickly composed herself, suppressing her shock, and flicked out the match. "Lord Zolael, what brings you here?"

"Your house...can't I come? I was the one who decided to give you this house in the first place." Tuku stared at her with a half-smile, continuing to look at her with that same half-smile. "These past few days, those three people have been staying with you. Is there something wrong with them?"

Alana didn't speak, but simply gazed at him calmly. Knowing Tuku as she did, she knew such questions didn't need an answer at all. The fact that he asked meant he already had an answer in mind.

Night.

Being alone.

There were nearly fifteen people in the Thunder Fury Gang, and they all went down the mountain to dig for gold.

The girl suddenly realized that this was the opportunity she had been waiting for, and there couldn't be a better one. The horse was still outside; she killed him, mounted the horse, and rode down the mountain along a side path, disappearing without a trace, changing her name and living in a different place. Thus, she rid the world of a scourge; it should be considered a happy ending, right?

Her gaze drifted to the side, landing on the prop she had prepared for today—a rolled-up parchment map.

“On this land, there is no one who dares to defy the Zolael family and yet leaves alive. They will inevitably die, and in a most gruesome way… It’s a pity we had the chance to be a family.”

He patted Alana on the shoulder, his words encouraging, but his large hand pressed down slightly as if to break her shoulder blade. "You've always been the one who gives me the least trouble, Alana, which is why I agreed to let them stay at your house."

"Try to recall what they said and did. Report back to me every useful thing they did."

……

After a moment of silence, Alana made up her mind, her heart pounding.

She dared not show too much excitement, lest the map library notice something amiss. She turned around, picked up the rolled-up map, and gently placed it on the table.

"They gave me this map as part of the mortgage rent." Alana's tone was slow and leisurely, almost as usual, like a subordinate reporting to a superior.

She had a good grasp of the stock market's psychology. With such a capricious leader, flattery was useless; if you misjudged the situation and tried to curry favor in the wrong place, you'd be in big trouble. The best approach was to stick to the point and say what needed to be said.

Sure enough, Tuku's emotions calmed down, and he lowered his brow, signaling her to continue.

“They say this is the treasure map for the ‘venomous route’.”

"The Poison Route!?" Tuku's eyes widened instantly. "You mean, the Poison Route, which is considered one of the four great treasures alongside the Jack Gang, the El Dorado, and the Malvid?"

“That’s what they said, but I think if it were genuine, they wouldn’t have handed it over to me so easily. Or perhaps, the situation in Granite State is more complicated than we imagined.”

Alana gently untied the thin rope and slowly unfolded the map, explaining, "I took a look at it myself, and the starting point of this map should be in Granite State, in a small town called 'Springeye.' If you go out from this village, you can reach Mount Hoffman."

"On its mountainside, there's a narrow entrance, just big enough for one person to squeeze through. Go through there, and you'll find..."

She spoke with great detail and conviction, and Tuku stared at the map. For a moment, he genuinely tried to recall what Mount Hoffmann looked like. Was there really such a strange entrance halfway up the mountain? Could it be that he hadn't noticed it before and had simply ridden past it on horseback?

“Dang——!”

Just as I was reminiscing, a gleaming dagger suddenly fell from the end of the map and landed on the table.

Without the slightest hesitation, Alana grabbed a dagger and plunged it into his throat!

Chapter 42: I am The Red One

The moment the blade touched his throat, Tuku's large hand suddenly reached out and gripped the blade, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets, filled with disbelief.

With her murderous intent already revealed, Alana had no way out. Gritting her teeth, she pressed down with all her weight and let out a roar like a mother leopard.

The blade slowly approached, trembling as it touched Tuku's skin, piercing a wound on his neck.

His breathing quickened, and he clenched his yellow teeth tightly. Even though his right hand was covered in blood, he dared not loosen his grip on the blade. Ironically, he still held onto the blade, preventing Alana from executing her next two moves, "Heart-Slicing" and "Body-Striking," leaving her stuck in this awkward situation.

Tick, tick.

The blood flowing on the blade aroused Tuku, making him even more dangerous. The adrenaline surge made him forget the pain, his eyes bulging like a frog's as he glared at the girl before him. Relying on his absolute advantage in physical strength, he endured the pain of the knife cutting into his flesh and finally managed to shove her aside, leaving a shallow bloodstain on her neck in the process.

"ah----!!"

Filled with boundless rage, he grabbed Alana by the neck. The intense suffocation rendered her unable to draw her knife, and she felt dizzy. But Alana did not give up. Instead, she supported Tuku's arm and used it as a fulcrum, clamping her legs together in a chokehold. With her strongest legs, she clamped his neck, attempting to make him unable to breathe in the same way.

However, the absolute difference in strength is difficult to overcome even with skill.

No matter how fast she moved, Alana was only 14 years old. She was too light, and her muscles were not fully developed. Even though the choke was executed perfectly, Tuku still lifted her up and slammed her to the ground.

"Boom-!!"

Her face slammed into the ground, breaking her nose and causing blood to gush out. But Alana couldn't care less about the pain at that moment. She pulled the revolver from her belt as quickly as possible, rolled over, and was about to press the firing pin when Tuku strode over and stepped on her wrist!

"You damn! Fu*king bitch——!!!"