Magical Adventure Book

[Chapter 14-2] Believe in Yourself

Unexpectedly, Twisky laughed loudly when he heard my words. Saying it while continuing to laugh, as if it was just a silly joke to him.

With his arrogance, Twisky told me to prepare myself for death, then go out of this rotten motel, with all seven of his men. Challengers like heroes who are sure of their victory.

"You sure about the challenge, Morg?" asked Yenz, with piercing sharp eyes.

"Yes .. yeah, how else. It's the only way, right?" I tried to raise the glass with trembling hands. Not realizing that the contents were empty - because it had toppled over - until I tried to gulp it down.

"Mr Damarion." Lapo who came out of the kitchen, ran a little came up to me-at a glance earlier I saw him hiding there. "Ah .. I told you, right, to run away last night. And, now you're challenging Twisky to beduel. Ah, you can't possibly win."

"Huh? Why that?" my question, with a gaping mouth.

"He was a bandit who had killed many dueling opponents, with his fast shooting skills. Has an undefeated record in shootout fights until now."

Detailed explanation from Lapo, it is enough to make my flame as beautiful as it is, to fall and disintegrate scattered. As well as explaining why Twisky responded lightly to my challenge, even laughing at it.

I looked at Yenz. It began to blur this view by the tears that welled up. Not that I'm a coward, but just think the same of you. Who is not afraid to face a death duel at this young age and a blanket?

Yeah, I'm Zacky, I mean, not the old Margo. Singles anyway!

"Hey, where are you, Brewok Cengeng? Don't expect to escape from here safely! My men have surrounded you, and will not hesitate to shoot if you dare to fuck! Get out now!"

Yenz patted me on the back, then said, "Just please don't die." Without a burden he stepped out.

Damnit damnit!

"Good luck, Mr. Damarion. I pray you'll be safe." Lapo patted my back. "You better get out, before Twisky gets angry, and has his men take care of you cruelly."

That talk. Do you know what the words empathy and sympathy mean? Instead of being supported by giving motivational sentences, uh this is even like trying to scare me.

However, because of Lapo's encouragement - both in words, and directly on my shoulders - I finally moved. Walking with knees trembling with fear. Passing through the double doors of this cursed motel, and pause for a moment on its porch. Next to Yenz, whose hand goes into the bag.

Jeri looked around. Where seven of Twisky's men were on standby. Inside the house, in the terrace, behind the roadside barrel, up on the roof of a high place of worship.

"Remember, try not to die, my friend," said cocot Yenz, as if I were going on an excursion. "And one of my advice. Believe in yourself, I'm sure you can beat him."

A little smile I developed, when I heard the blonde braided earlier. That's what I need right now. A little booster, before facing death in plain sight.

Oh, aye. Isn't this Margo a master of shooting? Remember, he could shoot a few flies at a distance?

It adds to this self-confidence, although not much. Hopefully, that skill can really be used, when the duel will be death.

I walked down the steps of the motel terrace. Stepping on the sandy soil, and accidentally stepping on horse dung, to finally face each other with the Fraudulent Coat of Arms.

"You know, only two people dared to challenge me to a duel. First, the person who has great shooting skills. Second, is a cowardly loser who has no brains. No need to explain, right, which type are you?"

"Fuck you! Just look at it later!" I said while pointing at him. "After all, you can't possibly dare to kill me, right? Y-you won't get the prize, if .. if I die!"

Twisky, and his men laughed at my words. Goddamnit! I'm not joking, hey!

"Sure I'll kill you, loser! Different from your friend, the beautiful man. The price of your fugitive doesn't decrease, even if I give you in the form of a carcass."

****** me!

In that case, it would be the same as me giving up my life to be finished off. How could I possibly win, if the opponent was a bandit who had fast shooting skills, and had never once been defeated in a duel of weapons?

Hopefully, Margo's shooting skills are better than Twisky's.

"No more talk! We start now. As soon as my men's coin toss fell to the ground, that's when the duel began." Twisky turned to the right, towards the man he was on the roof of the church, who was carrying a long-barreled rifle. "Do it!" his orders.

"Wait a minute!" I shouted interrupting the tension, right before the tossed coin landed on the desert ground. "Good Mr. Twisky. My stomach suddenly mules. Can I shirk first, before we continue this duel?"

The desert wind rustled filling the absurd awkwardness I made. Not all pairs of eyes looking at me who was in a half-couched position, with the left hand holding the stomach. Yes, pose the person who is holding the mules. A lie that will produce nothing.

"Basic Losers!" furious Twisky.

The man with the bushy sidearm took the gun from his scabbard. His right hand moved swiftly uplifted, to finally stop being jolted by the left palm, which patted his upper arm.

Just a fraction of a millisecond, for his eyes and hands to synchronize. Adjust the direction of the shot to the target, which is me, until finally the trigger is pressed firmly.

Hammer gun jerking. Hit fast the primer behind the bullet casing. Causes a blasting explosion. A quick barrage of the process, until finally the hot tin grains were ejected. Exit the muzzle of the revolver at high speed.

Don't know how I can figure that out.

Surely, when Twisky started to move his hand to grab the sheathed weapon, my brain was instantly empty, but a split second later, it was filled with thoughts like that. Yes, about the mechanism of the weapon.

At that moment, my heart rate increased, the breath hunted fast, but the world felt empty and silent. Caused my focus to increase greatly.

A little difference from before the opponent's weapon erupted. I reflexively jumped to the side. With eyes that could not be separated from Twisky, and his right hand that held the revolver. Smoke white smoke.

The bullet that came out just now grazed my arm. Tearing shirts and skin at the same time. However, for some reason there is no pain - the effects of adrenaline are hard.

Without stopping due to the disturbance of the bullet earlier, my right hand continued to swing. Pushing the cocked revolver, to the position where the muzzle leads to Twisky.

It didn't take long for me to aim, until finally, with complete confidence - not knowing where it was coming from - my pointer jerked the revolver trigger.

Explode shell gunpowder, which pushes high-calorie tin arrows. Straight to the target.

I'm thumping down on the sand-luck doesn't contain any foul-smelling animal shit. Following the sound of a sickly scream from Twisky, whose shoulder was pierced by a bullet from my gun.

On target!

I really didn't expect to make it! That's great! Scenes from the movie Holiwud.

Doesn't stop there. The Mint Chin's weapon sprang apart from the grasp, and slammed away. He could no longer grasp it, because of his injured shoulder.

The sound of firing back is heard. Following that, a body rolled from the roof of the house of worship. Falling down helplessly with the pull of gravity, with a gunshot wound strewn across his body.

He died instantly. Either caused by a bullet hit, or by landing hard with the head first.

Uniquely, the bullet that toppled one of the bags, came from the property of his own boss. From the old-model revolver - much older than I wear - that is easily triggered, if hit by a strong shock.

Yes, the weapon exploded as it landed hard on the wooden floor of the house of worship, which he rudely climbed with the intention to kill me. This handsome innocent-hearted guy.

Don't know it's a stroke of luck, or maybe God's punishment for such a brash criminal.

Without wasting any more time, I immediately stood up while cocked the weapon. He told Twisky who was struggling to hold his injured shoulder. Groaning pain.

"Hey!" his yell.

Simultaneously. Twisky's men who were around the dueling arena, raised their weapons and aimed them at me. My menodong who still directs the muzzle of the weapon to the Twisky-footed eel.

Waitaminute! Why does it still continue? I should have won, so why is this?

Damnit damnit! I was in a pinch position again! Outsmarted by a mean-spirited villain.

Mama! I want to go home!