"Tell me why you ran away on your own, otherwise your handsome face would have been shattered all over the floor." When dealing with Trist, you're going to have to be tough. Otherwise, he'll get an inch in and make you mess around.

When we were partners in the past, he was very practical in his slippery style.

"A whole decade! In prison! You know that feeling?! I asked.

He didn't know. For the first time in his life, Trist couldn't say anything pretty - he knew he was wrong.

"The way those dogs torture me can drive everybody crazy. But I didn't, because anger keeps people awake. And then there's the fact that I've been thinking about this moment, this now, this place. ”

The beautiful words came: "In this way, it was all up to me that you survived." You should thank me. ”

This sentence completely me off. I was so angry that my eyes went black - that's his method, and when I was really carried away by the rage, he would do that escape trick again. I took a deep breath and once again suppressed the urge to shoot. He was a little surprised that I didn't take the bait. And now, I'm close to the answer.

"How much did they give you to betray me?" I yelled in my lower voice.

Trist was quiet for a moment, with a smile on his face. He's in a race for time.

"Malcolm, it's a pleasure to talk to you, but this time is not the right time or place."

In an instant, I noticed that there was an extra card between his fingers, flying up and down. Without even thinking about it, I slammed the trigger.

Boom!

The cards had turned to crumbs, and there was almost his dishonest hand.

"Idiot!" He screamed wildly - I was glad to see him hysterical. "You've brought everybody here! Do you know whose territory this shit place is?! ”

Do I care about this?

I was about to make up for the shot when out of the corner of my eye I noticed that his hand seemed to move again. Suddenly, countless cards exploded in my field of vision. I shot indiscriminately, too lazy to care whether he lived or died.

For a moment, the room was filled with roars, footsteps, gunsmoke, and flying wood chips. In the midst of the chaos, I managed to find Trist, and the door to the warehouse was kicked open.

More than a dozen Hook Gang members rushed in and joined the chaotic battle.

"Are you here for real?" Trist asked, holding a handful of cards in his hand, ready to throw them at any moment. I nodded, and with my gun in hand, I aimed at him steadily.

Let's settle the ledger.

In the blink of an eye, it was a mess.

The Hooks kept squeezing into the warehouse, but Malcolm ignored it. He just stared at me.

I felt that he was going to shoot again, so I hurriedly sideways to dodge. Then came a deafening gunshot, blasting a wooden box into the sky — half a second slower, and it would be my head.

I'm sure now that this old partner is determined to kill me.

I flipped over a pile of mammoth tusks while throwing three cards at him with my backhand. Before the cards could fly, I hid behind cover and began to plan my escape. It only takes a few seconds.

He yelled, but my cards couldn't help him, and it was only a little delay at most. He's a big guy who can carry a beating, and he has a lot of brains, and he doesn't know what it means to stop in moderation.

"You can't run, Trist," he growled, "absolutely impossible." ”

He doesn't seem to have changed at all.

It's a pity that he was wrong again. When did I Trist miss? But now he is carried away by revenge, where can he listen.

Another shot, shrapnel grazed a set of incomparably expensive Demacian armor and embedded it in the walls and floor. I rushed left and right, zigzag from cover to cover. He stared at me, cursing and swearing, and the musket in his hand kept ringing. For someone his size, I almost forgot how nimble he was.

But he wasn't my only trouble. This stupid old man beat and screamed, and he didn't know how big a hornet's nest he had stabbed. Now the house was full of Hook Gang people, and this time they had learned to be obedient, leaving a few people to keep watch at the gate.

I've got to run. But first, I have to get my stuff in my hands.

I led Graves around the warehouse, one step ahead of him back to where I started. A few minions stood between me and the dagger, and someone else was coming around. It can't be delayed any longer. The cards in my hand glowed red, and I threw them out with all my might as I aimed at the center of the gate. Hit the target. The card burst open the hinges on the door, blowing up the nearby guards to pieces. I strode up.

One guy recovered faster than he had expected, and he got up and swung his axe at my face. I slumped over and kicked him in the knee socket while throwing another card into the faces of his accomplices.

Barricades cleared. I picked up the dagger and hooked it on my belt. It's a lot of good things, and it seems that my reward can be pocketed.

The open warehouse door beckoned to me, but the Hooks kept rushing in, surrounding the place. It's a madhouse. I took a look at the gap and ran down to a corner where no one was around.

The cards began to dance in the palm of my hand, and the disappearing trick was coming. Graves suddenly appeared behind me, like a bear with rabies. "Fate" pulsed in his hand, breaking an iron hook minion into pieces.

His eyes were drawn to the glowing cards in my hand. He knew what it was, so he raised his still smoking gun and pointed it at me. I lowered my hands - the trick couldn't be done.

"I can't run away for a lifetime." He said in a thick voice.

For the first time in his life, he was finally not that stupid. He won't give me any more chances.

The fear of being caught by the Hooks began to creep up in my heart. Their boss is not known for his kindness.

My mind was full of terrible thoughts, but one thought began to grow louder and louder: I was calculated. an unprovoked "easy" errand; A huge amount of money, just when I needed it urgently; Oh, what a coincidence, my old friend happened to be standing there waiting for me all night.

Someone a hundred times smarter than Graves killed me.

I should have thought of this, but now I just want to slap myself a few times. However, on the docks outside, there are probably hundreds of bastards who don't mind helping me out.

The top priority is to get out of this hellish place as soon as possible. Damn "fate" fired two shots, causing me to take two steps back and rest my spine against a dirty crate. A crossbow arrow whizzed into the wood, just inches away from my head.

"I can't get out, you little white face." Graves roared.

I looked around, and the fire in the warehouse had reached the ceiling. Perhaps, this time he was right.

"We've all been sold, Graves." I shouted to him.

"Why, you're good at selling other people, right?"

I'll have to try to convince him.

"If we join forces, we can all escape."

It's really desperate.

"I want to believe you again, unless we're both dead." The only thing that answered me was a roar.

Actually, I didn't expect him to listen to me. Reasoning with him at this time will only make him angrier, and that's what I need. He was a little distracted, and my performance started again.