Abyss Express

[Part①·Gang Ceremony]

If you want to join the perfume bottle, you need to do three things. The tools you need are ropes and sticks.

Under the archway of Sloth Town, the gathering space next to the well.

The leader of the gang sat on the ground. He was responsible for imparting experience to the students and teaching them how to complete these three things.

The leader's name is Sullivan Okopela, a local, red-haired, 21 years old.

The eyes are narrow, the nose is round, and there are many freckles. The black cloak covers his body, the raincoat blocks the sun, and hides his skin, whip and gun.

"If you want to join the perfume bottle, the first thing you have to do is-"

Sullivan extended his index finger and smiled at the students affectionately.

"-Use a rope and a stick."

Take out the teaching props behind him, a wooden stick soaked in butter, a sheep tendon, and a ball of cotton and linen.

"Make a bow."

The students were all young and strong, handsome guys, with white skin and blue eyes. They couldn't help their curiosity and stuck their heads out, staring at the tools in Mr. Sullivan's hands.

Sullivan began to make a bow. He twisted the scattered cotton and linen threads and sheep tendons together, rubbed them into a tight line with his dexterous hands, stepped on the poplar, and used this strong rope as a small saw to cut fine grooves on the steps of the bar.

Then he combined them and rolled them, tied a slipknot, and finally took out a kerosene lamp and baked the bow at a low temperature to ensure that the antiseptic butter was thoroughly penetrated into the wood.

Sullivan showed the boys the weapons in his hands.

"It's done!"

The young people praised the captain's craftsmanship and were amazed.

"As expected of the captain..."

"It's amazing! Can it be used to shoot rabbits?"

"Mr. Sullivan, isn't this a primitive weapon? Why do the Perfume Bottle Gang also need to learn the craft of making bows? We can all use guns!"

Facing the students' questions, Sullivan explained impatiently.

Sullivan: "Because courage is important!"

Student: "Courage?"

Sullivan: "Courage is knowing what fear is and taking it as a bag."

As he said this, Mr. Sullivan took out an arrow from under his cloak and raincoat.

The way he drew the arrow was very standard, and it was definitely not something that a layman could do. It was like a hunter who had learned from the natives for many years.

The arrow pointed at the students, and they looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

When facing this arrow, they felt an indescribable fear.

When they were young, the brave warriors in the Indian tribe used sharp arrows to kill people, and then skinned and boned the captives.

As Mr. Sullivan moved his bow horizontally, the arrow swept across everyone's nose.

The students also saw the full picture of the arrow.

Its blade was thick and bright white. In addition, the entire arrowhead seemed to be made of dark gold with emerald green patterns.

It was expensive and looked very valuable.

Another student asked loudly and impatiently.

"Mr. Sullivan! If I join the Perfume Bottle Gang! I can also get this arrow! Right?"

"No! ~ No! ~ NO! ~" Sullivan continued to explain: "Don't worry, first you have to learn how to make a bow and understand your enemy."

Another student understood this truth, so he echoed in a hoarse voice: "The captain wants us to kill Indians!"

Sullivan immediately smiled with kindness and kindness, showing his sixteen white teeth, and his eyes turned into crescents.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! After Homo sapiens learned to make bows and arrows, they became top predators and the king of beasts. If you want to join the Perfume Bottle Gang, you must do this first thing - make a bow, understand its structure, analyze its weaknesses, overcome your inner fear, and finally surpass it!"

After talking about the first thing.

Sullivan started talking about the second thing.

It is also related to [rope] and [stick].

He took out two logs, one thick and one thin, and two ropes, one long and one short.

Combining them, use the long and thick wood as a stove and the short and thin wood as a fire starter.

Use these tools to drill out sparks from the scattered wood chips.

The students were eager to try, and they all thought that this was a very simple thing. Their parents had taught them this kind of knowledge of survival in the wild.

Just when the students were about to rush forward, Sullivan suddenly raised his head and stood up suddenly from the action of bending over to get fire!

His body was like a vigorous and powerful wolf, his eyes became aggressive, and his imposing aura scared the disobedient little wolf cubs back.

Sullivan stepped on the burning wood, rolled it and played with it.

"You must think this is easy."

The students were silent, and a timid child couldn't help but want to take out the gun from behind to protect himself with this precision machine.

Mr. Sullivan was not in a hurry, he hooked the wood to stir the flame, kicked it up gently, and held it in his hand.

"It's actually very difficult to do."

He held a torch and whistled a few quarry workers to lift a scarred red-skinned prisoner out of the cellar.

"Boys, if you want to join the perfume bottle, the second thing you have to do is actually learn how to swallow cooked food."

Sullivan said as he did it.

Tie the prisoner to the grill with [rope] and [stick].

Pile dry pine wood and pine needles under the grill.

Then, bring the flame to the fire.

"Mr. Sullivan...Mr. Sullivan! He is a living person...he is still alive!" Some students had already begun to retreat.

"Captain, are you kidding us? Ha... we don't eat human flesh, to be honest..." There were wanderers from other places who came here because of their reputation, but they still harbored illusions and looked at the twitching man with cold sweat on their brows. Aboriginal.

Mr. Sullivan had a calm tone and was a very skilled cook. He explained to the students the benefits of cooked food and the things that need to be paid attention to when eating cooked food.

“Before you start cooking, have your tools ready, and the best thing to do is use silverware, which sterilizes and cleans itself.”

"In the process of cooking food, pray to God, learn to be grateful and smile, and use a smile to face God's gifts and mercy."

"Flame can kill most life in the world, including viruses and bacteria. You must master the heat skillfully. If the food has begun to smell burnt, peel off the burnt parts in time."

"Before starting the meal, in addition to the thanksgiving session, you should also be wary of the curse of the Indians - they are also a kind of [carnivores]. In the cold and hungry winter, they will occasionally eat their companions to last until the next year."

"There's a legend in Algonquin County that a guy who eats human flesh will turn into a [windigo], a mindless, crazy antlered monster."

"In order to avoid contracting this curse, we only need to remove the head from the food and we can use it safely."

During the time that Mr. Sullivan was teaching - the red-skinned natives on the grill were completely dead and made no sound.

"The second thing is, before the prey eats you, tie it with a rope, use wooden sticks to make a barbecue grill, and eat it first."

The students just looked at the hunting knife as if it were on their necks.

No one dares to take a step forward——

- Add the necessary second thing to the Perfume Bottle Gang, which they can't seem to do.

Sullivan was still smiling, as if comforting his descendants and relatives, as if comforting a baby that had just come into the world, he was like a gentle mother.

——Still no student dared to take a step forward.

Mr. Sullivan taught and persuaded earnestly and took out the golden arrow.

"What if someone eats this piece of meat first! Even if I give it to this outstanding young man as a gift! No one dares to taste it? Aren't you all [carnivores]?"

Finally, a young man who looked a little bold took a step forward, his eyes filled with desire for wealth and fame, power and power.

This student only took one step. He clearly remembered that he only took one step!

But his body staggered forward involuntarily, and when he came to his senses, it was as if a pair of invisible hands pushed him in front of Teacher Sullivan——

——When he raised his head again, time seemed to disappear for several seconds, and he couldn’t remember anything that happened in the middle!

The student saw Teacher Sullivan's pleased and approving expression, but he couldn't stop the nausea and vomiting in his throat. He leaned on the steps and kept vomiting, and there was still some oily smell stuck to his tongue.

[Part②·Blood Vengeance]

Mr. Sullivan took out a floral handkerchief from his cloak and gently wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I'm so touched... you did a great job."

When the student vomited out all the filth in the Five Zang Temple, he returned to the team in shock and fear. He didn't know where that inexplicable power came from.

Obviously! A pair of hands pushed him!

What pushed him to Teacher Sullivan?

When he was hesitant, when he saw gold, he was filled with greed.

When he still considers himself a [human being].

A pair of hands that turned him into a [Wendigo], a pair of invisible hands, pushed him...

He opened his eyes wide and glanced at his companions, with a bit of indescribable resentment and complaint in his eyes. He began to feel complacent again, and seemed to be able to do things that his peers could not do.

the student asked Sullivan with joy and pride.

"Teacher Sullivan! That arrow! Those precious gold! It's mine now? Is it mine?"

Mr. Sullivan laughed: "Of course I lied to you! What were you thinking?"

The student looked disappointed, but did not dare to question Sullivan. He was captured by a stronger sense of hunger - one day, he might be able to stand on that small podium, stand in front of the spring door, and step on the path of another corpse. The head gives the orders.

Mr. Sullivan took out three more wooden sticks and three ropes from the bar. Wrap them around each other, twist three sections of wooden sticks into a strong and durable handle, use ropes to bite the knots, and wind them into a slender whip.

At the very end of the whip, an arrow is tucked in to act as a counterweight to keep the whip balanced as it swings.

He used a loud whistle to call in the slave workers in the quarry, and made the Chinese and blacks kneel in the well square in front of the archway.

Sullivan teaches students the key points of the last thing.

"If you want to join the perfume bottle, you also need to learn how to make a whip."

The long whip has a sharp edge. When it is swung, it can split the scorching summer air, sending out a turbulent and blazing wind, scraping the weak, fluffy beards on the students' faces.

"We are all God's people, and we have to use [ropes] and [sticks] to tame livestock, like this."

The long whip hit the slave worker's spine, and a scream was heard. A black man kneeling on the ground had a bone-deep wound on his back.

When the whip returned to Sullivan's hand, blood drops floating in the air fell on the students' cheeks. Some wanted to reach out to block it, while others wanted to hide their faces.

The thugs in the gang grabbed their hands and had to face this scene head on.

The whipped slave struggled on the ground, his eyes bulging out. Within a few seconds, not even a scream could be heard. It looked like a big rooster had its throat choked.

Red sores began to appear on the slave's skin, and the arrowheads hidden in the whip seemed to be soaked in poison.

When the scars spread to the poor man's chest, he heard the slave let out a shrill scream, kicked his legs, and died suddenly.

In Sullivan's hand, there was no blood on the bright edge of the arrowhead.

The teacher asked loudly: "Does anyone want to try it? Like me, you only need to make a [bow], become a carnivore, then get this arrow, wave the whip, simple and easy, perfume The door to the Bottle Gang is now open.”

It seemed that he was aware of the fact that the slave next to him was dead. The fellow travelers who fell to the ground and other slaves began to mourn and sigh, and they couldn't stop begging for mercy in their own native languages.

After hearing the promise from the leader of the pack, these young wolf cubs' eyes were bloodshot and they could not resist the bloodthirsty impulse in their hearts.

Someone immediately took Teacher Sullivan's whip and wanted to prove his determination.

He looked at the strong backbone of the black man and then chose the short yellow slave worker as his target.

He raised his whip high. A few hours ago, he was helping his grandma dry barley in the farm's kitchen, counting the stars in the early morning while hugging the nursing dog, dozing off and humming a song——

——Now he has a ferocious face, a weird smile on his lips, and smells an inexplicable fragrance.

That feeling comes again!

It seems to have hands!

No! There was an "invisible person" holding him, guiding him, holding his elbows and waist, letting him learn how to crack the whip.

"Bang!--"

Gunshots rang out and the whip suddenly broke into two pieces.

The bullet hit the weathercock of the chapel and broke into four or five pieces, shattering a corner of the tower. The lime and bricks fell, scaring away a few sheep that were roaming in the backyard of the church.

Mr. Vincent reined in the reins, jumped off the horse, and gave Dolly a hard poke on the butt.

The horse immediately turned around and ran away into the distance.

More than seventy feet apart, Sullivan and Vincent looked at each other from a distance.

It's almost twelve o'clock at noon, and it's time for dinner.

[Cooked food] sizzling on the grill.

The strong wind blew away Mr. Sullivan's black cloak, revealing the shining silver gun inside.

Vincent released the trigger, and the grappling hook released the cylinder, making a metallic sound.

The slaves were still mourning, and the students were hiding behind the hired hands and gang members.

Vincent: "I'll collect the debt."

Mr. Sullivan shrugged.

"Which account is it?"

Vincent took out a dozen Yellow Pages contracts from the tattered overalls on his lower back.

They were his co-workers, his partners, brothers and sisters who set out together on the other side of the ocean, landed together, went through life and death together, and built the railway.

Now they have turned into dust and gone with the wind. They fell into the red mud and followed the clouds of windweeds towards the Gobi Desert.

Sullivan's expression was no longer as relaxed and carefree as before. Instead, he became serious, "You threw away all the ledgers. It's hard to find the insurance company to calculate the money and pick them up."

Wen Bucai: "I don't want money."

Sullivan smiled and said: "Then what do you want? Where do you come from? You don't want to talk about business anymore? Ask your boss to see me!"

Wen Bucai tore off his work badge and said, "I don't want to talk about business. I want you to pay with your life and with blood."

Sullivan didn't take it seriously at first. He just waved his hand towards his companions, driving away the troublesome students and asking the brothers around the assembly square to come closer. At the same time, he told Wen Bucai——

"——Hey, I never provoked you."

The sun had just passed over the heads of the two of them, almost suppressing all the shadows under their feet.

Wen Bucai: "I just saw it and felt it. There is also an evil spirit following you - it seems very powerful."

Sullivan's expression changed drastically, and cold sweat slowly broke out from his forehead.

There are not only turbulent hot winds blowing from the northwest, but also strong psychic tides.

Wen Bucai unloaded the shell and reloaded it. He could only hear the "click-click" sound of the metal parts colliding with each other as the cylinder rotated, but he could not see any movement of his body——

——Yes, Sullivan realized it! This guy has soul power!

Wen Bucai raised a provocation and invited Sullivan Okopela to a duel.

"Bring your horses over here!"

[Real name: Sullivan Okopela]

[Origin: His parents, uncles, and aunts died during the Westward Expansion Movement, and died at the hands of North American natives. He extremely hated people of color—later he joined the Perfume Bottle Gang and made a living by looting caravans. ]

[Soul Power: Thyme·Thyme]

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