A shot exploded the mercenary leader's head, Jonathan picked up the shotgun, and hit a home run on the butt of the hardwood gun, but the baseball was a little bigger, and a certain unlucky guy next to the giant man instantly spurted blood from his mouth and nose and flew backwards for several meters, and before the Wyatt mercenary could react, Joanson flashed to the trunk of the tree and let the automatic fire peel off the bark.

Simon in the shooting range did not obediently hide behind the cover to eat deflated, the sniper rifle cooling jacket emitted green smoke, at a distance of hundreds of meters, just with the lack of maintenance of Wyatt's guns, he only knew that with the courage of blood and courage of cannon fodder slag to shoot indiscriminately, there was no way to rub Simon's hair.

The muzzle brake reversed the forward airflow, suppressing the urge to jump up, and Simon was too lazy to equip the sniper rifle with a silencer, a monotonous "Oooh, ooh." "Immediately it became the most beautiful and terrifying sound in the world.

After all, this is an unobstructed open space.

A quarter of an hour later, Joanson, who was spewing with a breath of violence, pinched the throat of the last Wyatt mercenary like a chicken, and his heart pumped blood into his limbs, providing a steady stream of strength, which sounded long, but it was actually very short, as short as a heartbeat, and the mercenary's head exploded into a watermelon, just like his employer, if there were watermelons in this era.

Simon grinned and took out a hot bullet case in his clothes, and threw it into the sand, after the M110A4 was folded in half and shouldered back to his shoulder, the saber continued to dance fingers, and the sniper walked out of the shooting range slowly, thanks to the bad Yate company, which made Simon firm in his self-confidence, not only is it good to shoot fixed targets, but also good at shooting moving targets.

"Your bet." Jonathan leaned over to pick up G/Rock from Rochest's headless corpse and handed it to Simon. A gamble is a gamble, even if a person dies.

Simon shook his head slightly, and lifted the placket of his dust-proof military uniform, revealing the Colt python presented by Major Lippmann, the doomsday sun reflected the matte silver paint of the revolver, and the gradually raised heat dissipation ribs were easily reminiscent of a python hunting with its head held high. said: "It's time for Peter to change his equipment, I think his Browning is enough to be your grandfather, and it should be, well, Uncle Simon's late greeting." ”

The valley roared with a giant laugh, Ger/Lock changed his trouser pocket, Jonathan stretched out his big hand, Simon thought that this guy suddenly changed his mind and wanted to shake hands civilly, and sure enough, Ba turned into a fist, one big and one small.

"Have a good holiday, giant."

"Eat and dress, boy."

Originally, Simon wanted to draw some bullets and left, after all, Wyatt Company is still a snake, this time it occupies the terrain to slaughter more than a dozen people on the other side, and it is difficult to guarantee that he will be tied up to make a human torch in his sleep next time. When the Ranger was in the day, every time it snowed on the march, it meant trouble, the GPS didn't always turn around, and the road signs were always deliberately reversed, so the Rangers often stuck their heads in the snow for the Imperial people they had captured and interrogated. Probably also play a little bit of residual light and residual heat.

But the rifles full of the range are heavy coins for Jonathan, patting his chest and promising to take it casually, Wyatt Company is just the lowest level of operational outsourcing force, strength. The law of the wasteland is simple and crude, and if it is stained with blood, it is the spoils of war.

Blood, the blood of the enemy, my blood.

Simon sniffed his shirt, this military uniform was still worn out of the shelter more than half a month ago, sweat, blood, corpse smell, coupled with the unusually strong smell of inferior perfume from the female teller of the gun shop in Blackwater Town, the mixture of several fermented a hormonal breath that was disgusting and couldn't help but fall into, Simon exhaled deeply the hot and spicy taste in his chest, and stripped off his clothes in three or two strokes.

The moment he put on the mercenary pullover vest, it was like an electric current hitting his mind, and the mercenary shortcoat with a coarse linen texture was naturally far from comparable, the Kevlar military uniform that Simon had just taken off, but who was more comfortable and happy?

The answer is a match.

There is an old tree at the corner of the street of Heishui Town that has been dead for a long time but miraculously has not been dragged to be used as firewood, and the crooked carving of "Black Water Town" on the trunk is said to have been carved by the first mayor himself, of course, the residents of Heishui Town do not cut down trees out of respect, mainly because the old tree is also an observation post, cutting trees to eat a gun, this business sounds very uneconomical.

Typical pre-war mainland town pattern, along the highway line set up bars, motels, Uncle McT, police stations, remote and quiet there is a church, the road across the town is cut and cracked, a little ironic, maybe before the war when the road was built, just passing through the town, now relying on the road and water sources, within a radius of 100 kilometers, Heishui Town is the only settlement with signs of human civilization.

Peter was crouching beside a dangerous house outside the gun shop, the foundation had settled and the pillars had collapsed, and the two-story building was a bit similar to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, which was visibly tilted to the left by the naked eye, and the reason why it was not completely in ruins was only because the building next door was unlucky.

The hem of the white trench coat has been dragging to the ground, which is obviously not suitable for the body type of teenagers, but adults are wearing just right, and it just so happens that there is no shortage of adults in Blackwater Town.

Before the war, maybe many passers-by would rise to compassion, hand over a few bills or call the county police to send the child home, but now passers-by are either in a hurry, or their eyes are fierce, and the only reason why they are not allowed to snatch Peter's trench coat is very simple. In the corner of the alley behind the boy were two pigs with small heads.

But there are always people who don't believe in evil.

"Chick, are you looking for your mother?" A certain ruffian with a tattooed arm and a shaved cockscomb head shook three times in one step, if Simon saw it, he would probably laugh out loud, this kid must have seen some kind of anecdote such as the empire thug wearing a fake Adi British thug touching the crotch of his pants, and thought that he could calm the field with a crowaxe in his pocket.

Peter stared intently at the sand.

"Are you deaf? Chick! The shadow filled Peter, and the thin wooden stick that the boy held in his hand stopped.

"Fuck off." Peter said without looking up.

The ruffian feels that his authority has been provoked, and God pity him! John spent a full fifty coins to stab the black dragon, and the head of the black dragon John resounded through Blackwater! How dare the bugs provoke the black dragon? Unforgivable!

The ruffian furrowed his lips kindly, spread out his hand to show that he had no weapon at hand, and then quickly pulled out the crowaxe from his trouser pocket, but in the eyes of many people it was completely like pulling it out of his crotch.

"Chick, are you looking for your mother?" Someone repeated the words of a ruffian.

Jonathan grabbed the ruffian by the back of his neck and lifted his feet off the ground like a chicken, and the giant shadow was full of ruffians.

Simon examined the ruffian's tattoo with great interest and asked, "If there is a dragon or not, what are you doing embroidering a worm?" "It seems that the tattoo artist that the ruffian spent a lot of money to find is not very reliable, and Dongfang Long needs to show his charm very much, and he looks like a bug when he is very poor.

"Fuck off, go find your mom!" The ruffians were thrown into the garbage dump impartially.

Peter stood up straight, saw that the hardware and software were there, walked back to the corner without saying a word, picked up the two dead fish, revealed the duffel bag, and said, "Next time you leave, fill the gun with bullets." ”

The incompetent father awkwardly touched the back of his head, and in a tricky way he groped out Gros, and said, "Throw away your Browning, and use this sharp sword, your Uncle Simon's winning bet." ”

Peter weighed the weight of Grid/Locke, pulled out the magazine, filled it with bullets, and a little satisfied look appeared on his thin face, and he left the two of them directly, and walked through the street with a pistol, this time there was no blind idiot to trouble Peter.

"How much is this gun worth?" The black-hearted cow stared intently at the handsome little guy across the street, glanced at the young man who had just arrived at the counter, drove away the flies, and said, "Twenty coins." ”

"Twenty-five."

"Eighteen."

"How do you count with two bullets?"

"Twenty-one."

Peter was silent for a while, no better than his father's black and yellow mouth, the boy had a mouth full of white teeth, and the black-hearted cow suddenly had a heart rippling, maybe he got a new flavor tonight? He opened the cash drawer, counted twenty-two good coins, and let them flow from his fingers, and said, "Oh, take it, my sweetheart." ”

"Spare him, he's still a child." Just cleaned up a group of mentally retarded animals, Simon was in a good mood, stretched his waist, and grabbed Peter, the boy was instantly blocked by the sniper and his father's thin figure, Simon turned his head slightly, the cold and hard ice melted the spire, and the black-hearted cow stared at his eyes wide.

"Bang dang." Simon took off his backpack and smashed it on the counter, which contained thirteen AKs, and the 7.62 bullets in better condition had been picked up by Simon in advance, and for a long time, Simon didn't have to worry about the shortage of bullets for sniper rifles.

"Make a price." Simon's arm is across the counter, it seems that the gun shop in Blackwater Town pays attention to the image of the industry, and the counter is painstakingly made of solid wood, as for whether the back is embedded with steel plates, I don't know, the hired female teller wiped the counter to the ground, reflecting the pair of minds that want people to drown in it.

The female teller took out the rifles one by one, and never took her eyes off Simon, who pretended to see Astrid, the flower of the army, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not imagine the black and fat ugly face of the female teller as the heroic goose egg face of the mecha Valkyrie.

Thankfully, the all-metal slut must have died on the eastern front. Simon thought happily, and then there was some undeserved sorrow.

"Oh, it's rare to see such a high-quality AK, where did the handsome guy get it, ah, I won't ask more about personal privacy." The female teller pretended to be seductive and wiped her black lips.

"According to the rules of the industry, the steaming gun that has just killed someone will have to cut some price, but for the sake of the little handsome guy's personal privacy, I still count it as a 200 coin." The female teller pulled the AK that had not yet dried the human blood, and put her chest on it, if it weren't for the waste steel bar isolation net, the female teller would be able to entangle the person.

2,600 coins can fill a large cloth bag, goods are traded in more than three digits, most of them are settled with bullets, Simon asked for 20 rounds and 50 bullets instead of 300 coins, 7788 bought some accessories, and after the stolen goods fell into Simon's hands, there were still 50 coins - a $1 coin with the portrait of the Father of the Nation was worth ten ordinary coins.

Out of the gun shop, several town guards with Uzi submachine guns had been waiting for a long time, and the head of the guard was missing two front teeth, and his speech was a little leaky: "Mr. Mayor has invited the three of you to dinner."