Chapter 2273

It was a middle-aged man on a lean horse and dusty.

His hair and beard had not been trimmed for a long time, and the whole person looked gloomy. But his eyes, hidden in the shadow of his hat brim, swept around from time to time with the ferocity of their prey, just like picking goods in a supermarket.

Su Ming doesn't know what the state of the killers is now. Is he still immersed in the memory of that year? Or do you already know that you are in the dream of reincarnation?

But when he saw that look, the mercenary understood.

If the murderer only has the memory of that time, his eyes should be eager now. He should go to the drugstore immediately and buy medicine to save his wife and daughter.

But he didn't. There was only one thought in his eyes, that is, to kill all the people here.

"It looks like we have a backup plan." Su Ming sighed and put Bobo down. He found a bucket and let him hide in it. "The original plan doesn't work. Now the murderer is" dreaming soberly. "His mind is full of hatred. He won't buy medicine any more

In the original history, he felt a little thirsty after buying medicine and went to the bar to drink some water and eat something. As a result, because the "Heroes" who slaughtered the Indians also celebrated there, they vividly described how they killed the Aboriginal women first and then stripped their heads for money. After hearing this, he felt uncomfortable. Therefore, he had a conflict and was knocked unconscious, resulting in a delay of time.

"What about that?" Bobo shows his head out of the barrel, holding the lid in his hands.

The funeral bell took out two revolvers with a smile. After playing a spear flower in his hand, he calmly replied:

"we are in the old West, so we should use the method of wild west to solve this problem. If he wants to kill these people in memory, I will kill all the people in front of him."

"It sounds like you're provoking him." Bobo tilted his head, and his two corners of his mouth tilted down: "it's like at a circus carnival, someone holds up an air gun to shoot balloons, but you don't say a word, and you'll burst all the balloons in the past."

"It's a good metaphor. It's almost the same thing." Su Ming closed the lid for him and poked a hole in the barrel with his finger so that the orangutan could observe the outside world: "the butcher is a tool with self-determination. I have to prove that I have the qualification to talk before negotiating conditions, isn't it?"

The eyes of the orangutan appeared in the hole of the barrel, and he smacked his lips: "Tut, anyway, be careful. Do you know that Harry and I have to decompose the corpse when we collect them?"

"Ha ha, good joke." Su Ming came out of the alley with his two guns in his hand, and gave out a gloomy laugh: "just a resentful spirit can't kill me. You can sit in the barrel and wait and see."

With that, he went to the center of the street and blocked the carriage carrying the scalp.

At this time, you can see all the images of the street shaking at the same time, all kinds of strange eyes fell on him.

Overhead is the noon sun, and the shadow in the gray world has become very light, I do not know where the distant Eagle crow, the atmosphere immediately cooled down.

Several Cowboys protecting the scalp carriage came out with their long guns loaded. A man with a moustache and a fierce face yelled:

"get out of here! Don't get in the way

But in response to him is a backhand shot, not even to aim, from his voice in the mouth, where the death knell has locked his forehead.

"Bang!"

Although his pistol is also a revolver, its craftsmanship is from the 21st century, which is totally different from the dream of the 19th century. However, this gun realistically smashed the head into a rotten watermelon, which perfectly restored the power in reality.

This is very interesting. This memory dream also has the ability to keep pace with the times and self calculation. It seems that God and Death Angels have a lot of money for the killers.

Guan Chuangshi only gave him a biscuit box. The jailer also created a "high-level dream" for him. This is quite like the real-time calculation program of the game.

After all, the ability of the death knell to play this is like an open hanging player.

Although we can be regarded as mercenaries, these cowboys can even be said to be the old generation, but there is a gap between ordinary people.

With the sound of gunfire echoing in the street, bullets hit the heroes on the horse precisely. They dropped the dust like a broken sack, and the residents on both sides of the street screamed.

"Robbery! There's a robbery! "

"There are gangsters! Take up your arms

"God bless us!"

Chaos, disorder, different people have different performances, residents hide in the buildings on the street, hiding behind the windows, perhaps peeping at the battle, or quietly aiming.

However, it doesn't matter to Su Ming, even if the Cowboys soon disperse and try to fight back with the guns in their hands, their strength is too poor.

As soon as he got rid of the magazine, the orange hot cartridge case rolled out of it, and he put on the bullet leisurely in the face of a barrage of bullets, and then there were 12 shots that hardly needed to be aimed at time.All right, all the targets are dead. According to the rules of the old West, the 20 or so fast horses and a cart of scalp in the dream belong to the man who is still standing at last.

It's just that the death knell is not a real robber. Even in his dream, he has no hobby of collecting other people's scalp.

He just killed the target of the holy Slayer first, leaving no one else to kill.

Now you can see that poor middle-aged man stopped at the corner of the street. He sat on his horse with his head tilted, looking at the stranger who suddenly appeared, as if he was in a puzzle.

He has been trapped in this dream for more than 100 years, and he has repeatedly slaughtered these "pioneering heroes". But this time, it seems completely different. A cowboy has never appeared.

Which angel's disguise? Or the devil? Or is it God's prank?

He doesn't know.

The man's mind was a little confused. For a moment, he couldn't understand the situation. He just watched the stranger take out an apple size object from his pocket and throw it into the second floor of the roadside building. The next second, a corpse with a shotgun fell into the street in the explosion and fire, emitting the aroma of barbecue.

Is it an outsider? But how did he get into hell?

However, let's follow the previous steps, first kill all the residents of the town, and then compete with the mysterious people.

He got off his horse and raised his pistol. He saw a resident hiding behind the window. The people in this town should be damned. Why build the town so far away from his home?

In fact, in order to avoid the world, he took his wife and daughter to drill in the valley, but can you reason with paranoia?

"Bang!"

But before he shot, the mysterious man was faster than him, and the other party took his prey with one shot.

The butcher frowned. He moved his arm again and aimed at a bar prostitute who was separated from him by a wall, but he could smell the woman's stench, right there...

"bang!"

There was another shot in the street. It was still not the shot of the murderer. The stranger took the lead. The other side shot through two walls and hit the target accurately with the refraction of the bullet.

The butcher can't help feeling a little headache. At the same time, his long lost anger also surges into his heart. The wild west is really the one who shoots the gun quickly, but where he aims, where the other party hits......

is it too much?

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