Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"Damn it... what's wrong with this lousy door? Is it nailed shut?"

David seemed to suddenly find his strength and began directing from the inside of the door, "You have to kick it! Kick the door open!"

"Bang---!!"

After kicking it several times, the unfortunate wooden door finally opened. The two bodyguards/drivers, their shoulders and backs covered in a thick layer of snow, practically tumbled and crawled into the house. Then, the two men took out nails and a hammer from a drawer, picked up the door panel, and banged on it for a while, finally managing to nail the door back on.

Seeing this, Zhang Renfeng's tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed, like a student who had been pondering a difficult math problem for a long time and finally grasped a glimmer of inspiration from the problem.

He smiled meaningfully.

“Damn it…damn it…” one of them cursed. “Mr. Mesvid, there’s bad news. The carriage is probably too heavy and has been struggling through the snow. One of the wheels hit a rock and is now ruined. There are no materials here, so it might be difficult to repair it. We can’t leave for the time being.”

After all that talk, the only truly useful part is actually the last sentence.

David's expression shifted from shock to rage. His already pale face turned a deep shade of liver as he slammed the cup to the ground in extreme anger!

“Bang!!”

"..." Because he was so angry, this time he didn't even have the strength to curse.

“Young friends, don’t be anxious. You must believe that everything is God’s arrangement,” the clerk comforted them. “The blizzard won’t stop, and you can’t leave anyway. Why not take this opportunity to enjoy the scenery that you can’t see in the city?”

The roads are all blocked, what else can we do?

He could only slump in the chair and nod dejectedly.

……

"Do you still think there's a problem with us?" The clerk walked silently to Zhang Renfeng's side and teased with a smile, "Your wariness is really extraordinary."

“There’s a saying in my hometown: ‘Once bitten by a snake, twice shy.’” Zhang Renfeng put a slightly cracked glass jar back on the shelf and said in a deep voice, “We’ve gotten used to being ambushed, so we can’t let our guard down.”

"I understand." The clerk nodded and smiled. "In that case, I'll take out my documents for you to see, so you can rest assured."

After saying that, he took out a square certificate.

Indeed, his identity was clearly written in neat handwriting: he was an employee of the mayor of White Torch Town, working as a copywriter, just as he had said.

"It's always good to be cautious when you're out and about, but don't overdo it." The clerk smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and left without making a fuss.

……

This document, like the final piece of the puzzle, suddenly explained many things, such as why Saul was able to blend in with them and survive.

Zhang Renfeng recognized it at a glance: he was the one who made the fake certificate, and the format and font were almost exactly the same as Mike's "Randall Stevenson" certificate!

Chapter 75: "The Gunman's Tale" Unlocked

"Ugh... Ugh—!!"

David spat out his coffee, his brows furrowed, and complained, "What the hell did you brew? Horse piss?!"

His remarks drew a burst of laughter, and the clerk even raised his glass, jokingly addressing the biographer Domingo, who was sitting in the corner, "Finally, someone with a normal sense of taste has given the most appropriate evaluation, Domingo. Now you can admit it, right? The coffee you brewed was indeed not very good."

“Yes…” Bearskin Hat chimed in, “Even giving it to death row inmates would be inhumane.”

“That’s how we make coffee back home,” Domingo complained irritably. “There’s still some left on the shelf. If you want some, go make some yourself!”

"What the hell? You didn't just boil it in water and add nothing else, did you?" David knew he couldn't stomach this filthy concoction, but the cold night was long, and he didn't know how long he'd have to stay in this room. He really needed coffee to perk him up. So he poured all the coffee from the cup onto the floor, got up, and started searching the shop for ingredients and drinks that he could use for seasoning.

"Speaking of which, Mr. Saul is a lawyer, so why would a lawyer come to the snow mountain?" Becky's curiosity seemed endless. At this moment, she fixed her gaze on Saul, who was sitting in the middle. "Are there any of your clients here?"

“I suppose so. There are people on the snow-capped mountains, and with people come all sorts of social problems that require lawyers to solve.” Saul’s answer was quite interesting. “My client is dying, and he wants his will to be carried out after his death. For example, how his property and real estate should be distributed. These are all trivial matters, but I earn my money through hard work.”

"That's not even the strangest thing. Once, I met a weird inventor in Dover Valley. The guy said he had developed a time-traveling machine, but his idea had been stolen. He wanted me to help him apply for a patent..."

……

Saul is a very talkative person; he's like a highly adaptable chameleon, using his incessant chatter as a camouflage. Becky, on the other hand, is clearly an excellent listener. While listening, she always maintains eye contact and, at appropriate moments, asks questions that "perfectly showcase her expertise."

With the two of them around, the room suddenly became much livelier and more human.

……

Are you writing something?

Barbara was startled by the sudden sound beside her. She breathed a sigh of relief after seeing that it was Zhang Renfeng and scolded him, "How come you walk so quietly?"

Despite her words, Barbara generously opened the notebook for him to see, without any of the shyness or pettiness one might expect.

"I like to record what I see and hear in writing; these are invaluable materials."

The girl turned the pages one by one; some were strange cases her father had told her, others were her own personal experiences. The most recent page had a scratch on it, and it described their adventure to Sparrow Mountain by carriage.

Because it was written for himself, the word order and grammar were very casual. Zhang Renfeng's reading ability was already weak, so he couldn't understand most of it. He only seemed to see the phrase "Oshauchow" on many pages.

Do you want to be a writer?

"Yes! I want to write a thrilling, exciting, and touching Western gunslinger story! Gunfire, fast horses, chivalrous thieves, gold, lost treasure, and the complex grudges and entanglements between sharpshooters..." Barbara nodded readily, then became a little embarrassed, her cheeks flushing slightly, "Isn't that a bit too silly?"

“Novelists…” Zhang Renfeng said with half-closed eyes, not answering the question directly, but looking somewhat disappointed. “If I had known I was going to travel across the ocean, I should have brought a few books with me. Whether it’s The Story of the Stone or Water Margin, I could still read them.”

"In short, you can't write anything good if you just stay cooped up at home. What you're looking for can't be found in books."

“That’s right! But my father doesn’t think so. He always thinks I’m daydreaming… Sigh…”

At this point, Barbara's tone became somewhat dejected. She flipped through the notebook to the last page, where a string of names was prominently displayed.

----

Villain Bill.

Dusk Knights.

Heavenly Kobiin.

The man in yellow.

Miller, the quick-draw gun.

Il Ilan.

A beautiful woman in white.

Meteora, the Morning Star Ranger.

Red Center.

----

Following these lists were detailed records of the location and time each person was last seen. She pasted numerous newspaper clippings onto the next few pages, some clearly quite old, with curled edges. Such meticulous copying inevitably involves recording the most recent people and events in the closest possible detail.

Hong Zhong was last seen committing a major crime in Windswept Sands, New Elizabeth, and fled towards Tinglan Prairie. He remains wanted to this day.

"this is……"

“I want to write a novel called ‘The Gunman’s Tale,’ but apart from the information I’ve pieced together from newspaper clippings, I know almost nothing about them.” Barbara sighed. “You’re right, to write a good story, you have to truly become part of the ‘story.’”

Looking at his own name on the list, Zhang Renfeng felt a mix of emotions, yet a strange interest stirred within him. He suddenly realized that perhaps having a novel featuring him in it be meaningful. At least, after he passed away, someone with leisure might be flipping through an old book and come across a person named "Hongzhong."

So that my absurd and short life can be preserved forever in the form of words.

“Perhaps I can help you,” Zhang Renfeng said. “I mean… I can help you find out about these people’s stories.”

"Oh right! You did say before that you were an adventurer." A glimmer of light finally appeared in Barbara's eyes, and her tone became more lively and expectant, like that of a young girl. "Really?"

"No problem, a piece of cake. Actually, all you have to do is go to the tavern in the town where they made their fortune, sit down, buy the bartender a drink, and you'll hear long, long stories. If you buy them a whole bottle, he can tell you everything about everyone's family... Hahaha..."

“However, that’s how stories are; good stories deserve embellishment,” Zhang Renfeng said with a calm smile. “I can go and explore their stories for you.”

----

"...This tastes just right, much better than that horse piss-like flavor!"

David took a small sip, smacked his lips twice, and was quite satisfied with his creation. He scooped out the brewed coffee with a wooden spoon and distributed it to everyone. This was one of the few moments of happiness he found during this unfortunate journey.

Although he was extremely reluctant, he couldn't appear too petty in front of everyone, so he handed him a cup anyway.

"Coffee can't be brewed directly. I couldn't find anything in this run-down shop except a few bottles of liquor. I used brandy, whiskey, and a few bits of chocolate bar scraps as flavorings. It can make the bitter taste more complex."

"Anyway, these are all worthless junk. The coffee we make at the academy is much more sophisticated than this..."

……

As he spoke, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, and an overwhelming drowsiness washed over him.

After yawning, David seemed to snap out of his daze, slamming his head on the table with a thud, knocking over the coffee in front of him and spilling it all over the floor.

Chapter 76: Does drinking it necessarily mean I'll get sick?

Compared to the energetic and charming Becky, Barbara is relatively reserved, not good at talking or socializing, only showing unusual energy and drive when talking about things related to her interests. In civilized society, such a reserved personality might not be very likable, but it comes in handy when out in public.

Her father had repeatedly told her that even in public, if a stranger gave you water and you weren't watching it the whole time, you shouldn't drink it.

As the sheriff of White Torch Town, he had witnessed many similar cases where girls, trusting strangers too much, drank the drinks offered to them and then disappeared. With the limited police force in White Torch Town, there was simply no extra manpower to search for these missing girls. Their families were often devastated, and he could only watch helplessly from the sidelines.

She strictly adhered to this rule, not drinking the delicious coffee, but only licking it off her lips before setting it aside.

Of course, that's why she's considered old-fashioned... Gordon told her not to drink anything, and she really just didn't drink anything. She ate the whole bowl of stew and curry he gave her. But it was a lucky accident, since there was nothing wrong with the stew, after all, she ate it herself, and the empty plate was still on the table.

She was writing something when she sensed something was wrong, so she quickly tilted her head to the side, closed her eyes, and pretended to be unconscious.

But things happened so suddenly, and it wasn't something you could just calm down on your own. Barbara felt her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest, and her breathing became erratic. Her mind was a mess; she couldn't figure out what was going on, and she was just terrified that these people would notice something amiss.

……

"It's finally over... Hey! All four of them are completely numb, can you take this thing off now?" The female prisoner sighed, shook the chains a couple of times, and complained, "The handcuffs are practically grinding my bones out."

"Don't rush, 'Black Widow,' hahaha!" Bearskin Hat laughed heartily. "You're cuter the way you are."

In response to his taunts, the female prisoner only uttered two concise words, and judging from the sound of the handcuffs, it seemed she also gave him the middle finger: "F**k you!"

“These little bastards, once they’re in a safe environment, they immediately let their guard down… Your plan was really good, Victor.” The writer, who had been sitting in the corner, suddenly spoke up. Because he had been silent, Barbara hadn’t recognized his voice at first. “These three fat sheep are worth a lot of money. This way, we can report back to the boss.”

……

"Excuse me for interrupting you, but there are some things I need to say upfront."

"This job was planned by us. It just so happens that we passed through your territory, so we chose to partner with you. According to the rules, the ransom should be split 80/20, but our boss is giving your Shepherd Gang some face and only wants 70%, as a way of making friends with you."

"The money will definitely pass through your hands, but the people must be dealt with by us."

Another familiar voice joined the conversation, sending a chill down Barbara's spine.

Coachman.

The two coachmen who had driven the carriage all the way, along with everyone else in the house, were all in cahoots!

Since when?

When David approached them, or even earlier? Was the carriage wheel really broken? Were the supplies on board really insufficient?

Was this shop a trap designed specifically to lure them in from the very beginning? If so... did the Minis really go on a long trip?

One terrifying question after another surfaced in Barbara's mind, giving her an unprecedented feeling of suffocation. It was as if she had been thrown into the ocean, with countless hands grabbing her feet, trying to pull her down. She wanted to cry, but reason made her bite her lip tightly, forbidding her from making a sound!

Perhaps, in times like these, it would be better to simply pass out completely, like Becky and David? — She thought to herself.

----

"Tch... 70/30... You guys are pretty good at business, aren't you? We made so many preparations beforehand, and in the end, we only got a 70/30 split." Bearskin Hat said grumbling. "Victor, what do you say?"

Victor, the clerk who remained calm and composed, didn't respond to the question. Instead, after a moment's thought, he turned the conversation to the only outsider present.

"What did you mean when you just told this yellow-skinned guy, 'I'm allergic to cocoa powder, so I can't drink coffee'?"

"What allergy... Did I... did I tell you?"

Lawyer Saul's voice trembled. To Barbara's surprise, this lawyer, who looked rather sly, was not on their side.

He tried hard to defend himself, "Oh, right, I did say that! It's because it's strange, isn't it? None of you are drinking, and I'm not drinking either, only giving them a few to drink, it seems a bit... I was just afraid the situation would be exposed, so I... I just made up a reason. See, he drank it all without any problems, didn't he?"

There was silence for a long time.

If Barbara found it incredibly difficult, how much more so for Saul, who was facing the pressure head-on?

“You already know everything about us, and you were involved. In other words, you have a stake in this,” Victor said in a deep voice. “If you dare to utter a single word…”

"Got it! Got it! Heads for sure!" Thor even managed to answer first, cautiously adding, "But... this man, could you...?"

"What?" the bearskin hat sneered. "You have connections with him?"

“To be precise, he is one of my clients.” Saul’s voice was trembling, but he gritted his teeth and stood up in front of the group of thugs, despite his weak legs. “As a lawyer, of course I want my client to live… To be honest, I’ve handled a lot of legal matters for him, but so far, I haven’t earned a single penny.”