Chapter 58: the twenty-ninth 58

To Dos, the man's attire was somewhat unfamiliar because he had never seen anyone dressed in such equipment before.

The man who had pushed aside the underbrush wore a gray-green soft hat adorned with a wreath-like arrangement of grass and twigs on top. The grass on his head nearly blended him into the surroundings, making him very difficult to distinguish.

Under the man's ribs were leather ammunition pouches strung through with a belt on both sides. Hanging from his left side was a slim bayonet scabbard, and on the right was a holster for a revolver.

The man's coat was a bit long, with the hem covering his knees. Below that, he wore a pair of tall leather boots. This outfit made Dos think the man looked quite dashing.

The man stepped up to the fire and used the bayonet in his hand to impale one of the bandits who was still whimpering, silencing the screams in a second. The abrupt cessation of noise frightened Dos into quickly retreating back behind the tree where he was hiding.

That was because he saw the man, while pulling the bayonet out of the body, lift his head to look toward Dos's hiding place.

He was familiar with that gaze, very, very familiar.

It was the same kind of look he gave to the women curled up in the carriages and to the merchants hiding among the corpses.

He had never felt pity for these prey; he would use the children in the women's arms to threaten the women into submitting to him and his accomplices. After venting his animalistic lust, he would kill both the women and children without exception.

He would laugh unrestrainedly at the merchants who knelt and begged for mercy, promising to let them go before, after taking the money hidden on their person, piercing their throats with a longsword and watching them writhe in agony on the ground until they lay motionless.

In the past, he relied on killing and cruelty to cover up his inner weakness and fear, using bloody methods to maintain his position among the mountain bandits.

Yet, at this moment, he saw something different in the man who was cleaning up the battlefield. The man was indifferent, calm, as if he were simply clearing away a pile of unwanted rubbish.

Yes, it was now that he felt an unsettling sense of desperation from the other's calm aura.

He didn't even have the courage to raise his gun and shoot, knowing that there were some fearful ghosts lurking around this battlefield, watching over it like vindictive spirits.

"29..." Another brush was parted, and a man in similar attire emerged with a gleaming bayonet, speaking in a deep voice, "It's Dos's band of bandits for sure."

"There are only 27 bodies here." The man whose bayonet was still dripping with blood, who had made himself known first, said, "Letting these blood-debt laden fellows escape will greatly displease the master."

"Don't worry! None of the prey within the encirclement will escape," the third man who appeared ghostlike from the underbrush declared, tossing a young bandit back by the fire.

The young bandit begged loudly, his voice tinged with sobs, "Please spare me! Please spare me! I know I was wrong! Yes! Yes! I was forced!

Please spare me!"

And speaking of weapons, we have to mention the bullets that Tang Mo had tailored specially for them on this mission!

Though these bullets didn't differ in design from those provided to Earl Fisello, the core "gunpowder" within had been thoroughly improved.

Tang Mo had crafted smokeless gunpowder into a batch of bullets, specially supplied to his own trusted warriors.

The smokeless gunpowder produced very little smoke, which was even more useful in jungle combat. It could reduce the risk of exposing firing positions and marginally increased the safety of the gunpowder.

Luff and his men, equipped with the K1 Quick Guns and also revolvers, could be said to be exceptionally well-armed.

Dos, seeing this well-equipped and never-before-seen private army with seemingly no intention to search for him, slightly relaxed.

He thought their numbers had to be limited, hence no guts to spread out and look for him, the one that got away. But he was also puzzled about how such a small number of men could fire such a dense volley of bullets.

"Alright! Stop messing around!" Just then, Luff, from a distance, shouted loudly at someone.

Upon hearing this yell, Dos was startled, then he dared not move, thinking that the enemy was trying to deceive him with words; he certainly couldn't walk into death by himself. As long as he endured until these people lost patience and left, he would be able to reclaim his little life.

"I say... do you think... you're well hidden?" Just when Dos thought he might have made it out alive, a voice suddenly rang out behind him.

Dos was instantly scared stiff, his whole body shuddering, his instinct was to raise the musket in his hands.

Unfortunately, his hand was pinned mid-air by another hand, while a dagger horizontally slit a bloody gash across his throat.

Blood immediately sprayed out, staining the front of his shirt red. His left hand instinctively dropped the other handgun he was holding and clutched at the gash on his neck.

He desperately tried to stem the gushing blood from the wound, but due to the blood pressure, his efforts seemed extremely futile.

Like a fountain, blood spurted through his fingers, tumbling down into his collar. Because he had killed so many merchants and women, he could even imagine what he looked like now.

He felt he must look incredibly disheveled, hideously so. His expression must be one of utter despair, unable even to cry out.

With a mouthful of blood, he began to spit it out, he noticed the hand holding him had gone, so he staggered forward a few steps.

Almost out of strength, he turned his head only to see a young man, dressed like those others, standing next to the tree where he had hidden himself.

"The twenty-ninth one! Not a single one missing, they're all here!" This was the last sound he heard in this world.

Then, he felt no more and went to the endless hell.