The outsider in front of him is said to have won over railroad tycoon Jeremiah James. Lucian had previously done a little work for the million-dollar baron. Jeremiah is a big businessman and stingy. He didn't know what he had fallen for at the time, but the stakes were enough for him to go bankrupt more than twice. So the moment he lost the money, he put out a sky-high bounty.

Nearly every gunman knows that the notices posted on the bounty slots in Vulture Valley are either trivial or stinking or head-lossing. And now, since the missing industrialist has thrown out a business, the bounty hunters will definitely hear about it. These guys have no interest in anything other than money and killing.

The bounty hunter drew his pistol without saying hello, and the room fell silent for a moment. The foreigner sipped his whiskey calmly, looking like he was all right. Senna was also present with several federal marshals and Longhorn, as well as a number of thieves and bandits with guns in hand, all of whom were regular visitors to the town. Everyone is poised to go.

"Alright, friend." The hunter said softly. She had a sweet voice with a bloody scent. "You have what I want. Hand it over, and then everyone gets out as they get in. ”

The foreigners didn't say anything. His face was as warm as a porcelain doll, and he didn't change color or move at the face of the two revolvers. He had known she was coming. Maybe she'll know before she takes the job. But in the afterglow of the sunset, between the endless glasses of wine at the edge of the world, it's hard to tell who's making a fuss and who's bluffing.

The hunter broke the silence first. A bullet burst out of the chamber, right in the hearts of the foreign people. His body jerked backwards, black smoke rising from the hole in his chest, turning into a flock of crows. A terrifying claw poked out of the smoke and knocked over a table. Pokers, chips, and red-hot blood splattered around the room, and the hunter was about to pull back the empty shells.

Lucian pointed his gun at the hunters, the bailiffs at Lucian, and Longhorn rampaged through the tavern, racing against the clock to collect the money scattered everywhere into his arms. Every gun in the room went off. Bullets flew and both gunmen and bailiffs fell, and Lucian found a pool table to cover up — and then he found himself in a different predicament.

"Hello, stranger." Senna's gun was held squarely against Lucian's forehead. Her eyes were like a gentle grassland, occasionally dotted with a hint of black. Lucian had almost forgotten that he had a loaded firearm in front of him.

"Ma'am." He replied.

"I guess you'd want to be a good person, right?" As she spoke, a bartender collapsed limply beside them as lead, black smoke slowly coming out of his mouth.

"How good?" Lucian said.

A bullet sliced off a corner of the table, and Senna ducked. The movements were so fast that Lucian barely saw anything - and he had never seen anyone dodge bullets. At least not so confident, and Senna is clearly at ease.

She smiled warmly, the police badge on her chest reflecting the light. The star of the bailiffs, the well-known deadly gun.

"Well, very good," she smirked, softly confiscating Lucian's pistol. "Don't worry, I'll give it back to you...... As long as you're still alive when you're done. ”

She ducked behind cover and fired two quick shots, then flipped out and joined the fight, leaving Lucian alone to figure out what was going on.

He couldn't remember the next shootout. I just remember that the bounty hunter took a peek and pulled out a greasy object from the riverman's tumbling body, and then dodged out of the tavern door. The rivermen screamed and chased after them. Most of the guests were corpses, and there was nothing left to fight. The survivors crossed the road to the opposite side and continued to drink. In the Vulture Valley, dead bodies and spirits have always been in demand.

The bailiffs will say that from that day on, Lucian decided to wash his hands of money and began to work as a demon hunter for the government.

Although they will also say that Lucian is not here to save people, but for a beautiful girl. With a smile on her face, she dodged a bullet.

Scribbling aside, the longhorned map is useful. Lucian followed the map's instructions and walked north out of Angel Town, walking for more than a hundred years. Most living people would never dare to go so far into the north. The colors as far as the eye can see are becoming more and more vivid, and there seems to be an eerie magic floating in the air. As Lucian snoozed, he was pretty sure that some huge creature lurked out of the corner of his eye. But he wasn't scared. When the sun goes down, he'll set up camp and get ready. Because the night is the time when the shadow is most powerful.

He will feel the shadow pull him out of his body, dragging him down. His skin would soon itch and peel off in patches, and the corners of his mouth twisted into a grin. He would feel the fire and hear the devil whisper in his voice. The indigo sage will turn into a sea of purgatory, and you will be a person who swims in the water. He will also be angry. Terrible, ageless anger, shame, and disgust. The darkness in the soul squeezes out the malevolent bile. This is where the battle begins—the devil wants to take over Lucian's body, and what little self he has left is trying to get it back.

Lately, Lucian has noticed that the duration of the transformation is getting longer and longer. He didn't like it very much.

He felt his skin begin to tingle and crack in the cool night breeze. Lucian rested against a broken log, relaxing as much as he could. He tensed his muscles—waiting for transformation, grappling, and the harbinger of dawn.

He looked up. The sky twisted and turned scarlet—a never-ending sunset, surrounded by flames. The trees beside him were like terrifying totems, burrowing into the fog of the underworld. Only the illuminated area near the campfire was still the original green and brown meadow. The change began.

Or maybe it's not change, it's worse.

A train whistle echoed through the depths of the forest. Another voice came from the devilish brown mist, as if someone had yawned strangely. It was different from before, something Lucian hadn't expected. But he couldn't fight now, because he couldn't turn around or draw his gun. Thick metal legs carried a giant-like body, crushing through the ancient woods like a smashing toy. Lucian couldn't move, his eyes couldn't move, he could only watch the figure—the glowing core hungry for coal, terrible flesh. A long-dead, sturdy body, with a spherical train valve spewing steam from its shoulders.

It's a demon, Lu Xi thought with peace of mind. Another demon.