Orc Tyrant

At the moment when the two sides crossed, he could hardly feel the sharp blade in his hand cutting off the head of the nearest enemy rider, and the weapon went straight through the rider's torso.

Gogu twisted the grip to one side, and the motorcycle immediately turned sharply. The cavalry was swept down by the sharp edge, and the head of a horse flew out, and there was an arm.

A lance that stabbed him was smashed by the front of the motorcycle, and then Gogu hit the human with a stabbing through his chest.

The farts were screaming at the weapon positions and shooting blindly at the same time. They fixed themselves with belts to avoid flying out under the huge impact.

Bang Bang~!

The human riders also began to shoot at Gogu. Their marksmanship was quite precise, and several shots were hit on the head of Gogu. If it weren't for the habit of wearing a helmet, he might have to be opened a few holes.

But the fart spirits are miserable. Those bullets drilled into them like eyes. After a few shots, the three fart spirits died.

"Go!"

Gogu slammed the stick bomb out of his hand, and the thing fell between the two cavalrymen, and it exploded in a second.

The huge impact overturned the horses and people together, and the shrapnel flew across, the people and horses neighed, and then turned into painful groans.

The living **** was still shooting around, and the fire continued. Gogu used his thick feet to support the ground and circled the entire motorcycle in a semicircle with his thick feet. Then he turned back and went straight to the rest of the rider. An irregular gap was torn between the enemies.

When he plowed into the enemy group again, the gunfire of the opponent's counterattack hit their armor and car with a ding sound, while the machete in his hand chopped left and right.

Huh~!

With a sharp whistle, the still alive riders finally realized that they could not overwhelm the monster by numbers, and they began to retreat to the canyon.

Gogu has never let go of his prey, especially his prey.

Boom~~!

Flames spurted from the engine of the chariot, and the broken fuel pipe splashed the contents of them on the grass. Through the smoke and flames, Gogu caught up with them at the fastest speed.

After a while, the first decapitated head rolled across the burning grass.

These daring shrimps became the object of his anger, every bullet hit its target, and every trigger pulled was accompanied by the end of life.

After a brief chase, all the dried shrimps turned into broken corpses, including their livestock.

"Boss!!"

While Gogu was gnawing on the **** horse leg while repairing the slightly damaged motorcycle, the farts who went out to search for the loot hopped back.

The number of them is half less than before, but no one cares about the dead guys. There are so many farts. As long as Gogu turns around in the farts’ den, those little things have to be grabbed. After all, they are motorcycles. The boss's weapon hand is much better than being a rocket manipulator.

"Boss!! Good, good stuff!"

A fart came to him first, flatteringly raising the gadget in his hand.

Ge Gu looked intently and found that it was a small paper box. He picked it up curiously, shook it gently, and found something inside, so he roughly tore the paper box open.

"This one……"

Under the curious gaze of the farts, Gogu shook out a few thin sticks from the paper box. Then he sniffed it with his nose and found that the smell was a bit similar to tobacco leaves.

"fire!"

Another fart sensible ignited the lighter he had just searched. Gogu hesitated for a moment, but he ignited one and put it in his mouth.

With the ups and downs of Gogu's chest, the burning red cigarette instantly burned onto the filter, and at the same time a large amount of white smoke gushed from his nose and between his teeth, like the steam emitted by the machine after overheating and cooling.

"awkward."

Gogu shook his head, spit out the filter in his mouth, then lit the remaining cigarettes all at once and held them in his mouth.

"call……"

In the long breathing sound, six cigarettes burned out quickly, and more smoke came out, choking the **** around coughing.

"It still doesn't work, this tobacco leaf is wrong."

Gogu shook his head disappointedly. Even he couldn't satisfy him at this level, let alone the bosses. Obviously, this time the dried shrimp did not bring the tobacco leaves he needed.

The farts are also a little bit lost, but they quickly regained their enthusiasm, and they still show what they have found to their boss.

Pistols, daggers, hats, gloves, scarves, boots, pocket watches...

The farts don't have much discrimination, they all take what they see, and even a guy carried a **** calf bone.

Gogu picks and chooses among this pile of garbage. Although he needs some capital accumulation now, he can't take too much away. After all, the space on the motorcycle is limited, and he doesn't want too much loot to affect his speed.

In the end, he just chose something with higher value and light weight, such as pistols, lighters, metal kettles, etc.

Next, Gogu will start again, but he has a clearer goal-where these shrimps came from.

He could see that this encounter was not accidental, Xiami knew his route, so he must have been spotted, and Xiami who was staring at him would not be too far away. He was going to see if there was a chance. If you do, make a good profit.

The motorcycle roared again, the farts were in their respective positions, and Gogu put on his beast-shaped helmet-something he had won a bet from a certain Jiaya La, and stepped on the accelerator.

Amid the wild singing, Ouke and his steel beasts left.

Jefferson Town, an ordinary border town in Essex. Due to its proximity to the Howling Mountains, there are not many local residents here. Instead, there are many gold prospectors, miners, and bounty hunters who rest here all winter. Then return to the mountains in the spring and continue the life of licking blood.

Beyond the mountains, it is a place outside the law. People can only rely on their guns, so everyone in this place can be said to be a gunman, and the person with the best marksmanship is usually appointed by the government as the local government. Sheriff.

John Reid is such a person.

When he was young, he was also an ordinary gunman, a bounty hunter, attracted by the exciting life full of romance and adventure, and came to the eastern wasteland.

After years of hard work, he broke his reputation and was also naturally called up as a sheriff by the government.

The Iron Horse Tavern is his most frequent place, because here he can inquire and hear a lot of news that he can't hear in the police station, and he has enough contacts to solve many problems that can't be solved by guns.

The town that was about to enter the night began to become deserted. John Reid jumped from the saddle and threw the belt with the gun on his shoulders. In the eyes of the people around, he stepped on the creaking stairs to the tavern. In front of the door.

Just standing here, you can feel the hustle and bustle inside, and the old signs at the door crackled with the evening breeze, which indicates that a rain may be coming.

Bang!

As the door was kicked open, everyone put down the cards, wine glasses and daggers in their hands, and turned their eyes to the door.

"All right, all right."

This is the mantra of John Reid. Whenever he comes here, he will say it once. There are only a few days when he has not said it. This also means that something big is going to happen. For example, there were nearly a hundred people last time. The cultists of Wendigo Church want to raid the town.

The sound of the spurs behind the boots knocking on the wooden floor was like some kind of musical instrument. John Reid touched his slightly stubble chin and glanced at the tavern.

I lack a few acquaintances, but most of them are there, and the **** who is getting blessed is also there, everything is fine.

"Everyone, go ahead."

He smiled kindly, and then everyone resumed their previous entertainment.

The air was full of alcohol and greasy sweat, but this was what John Reid was accustomed to. He walked towards the bar step by step, and after knocking off a certain drunk drunkard, he snatched his place.

"same as usual."

The boss put the already-mixed wine in front of him without saying a word. Over ten years of getting along with each other has given them a kind of strong tacit understanding.