Chapter 626: The Choice
The two monks who came as reinforcements from the Cathedral didn't have much field experience, and they weren't even very skilled in using firearms, but their physical condition was quite good, and their will to fight seemed quite resilient.
After all, when a person acts with the courage to face a Demon without flinching, it's unrealistic to expect them to be afraid of ordinary bad guys at this point.
The battle quickly entered a stalemate. Although Wayne was hit by a few shots at the beginning, he successfully rounded the corner.
Using the simplified linear vision that his 'lens' could shift, he dismounted and aimed with precision, not overly afraid of being hit by bullets when peeking out. This suppressed the opponents, preventing them from rapidly approaching. The monk who fell from his horse quickly grabbed his lever-action rifle and joined the fray, helping to deal with the enemies on the other side with sporadic fire during intervals.
But as the saying goes, 'random punches kill the master.' The bolt-action rifle's rate of fire was inherently slow, and its magazine only held a few rounds. No matter how accurate it was, it couldn't provide suppressive fire.
There were no other covers near the crossroads, and the enemies were attacking from both the left and right simultaneously. Wayne had no desire to be shot full of holes. In reality, he could only slowly fight and retreat. For two shots, to gain the initiative, he chose to 'just hit,' not pursuing continuous headshots, all to quickly wear down the opponent's offensive.
Those guys who appeared from unknown places didn't quickly retreat. The street was filled with continuous 'bang, bang, bang' sounds for a while, and stray bullets occasionally sparked in the darkness.
The monk still on horseback was busy in a different way. He was managing three horses by himself, and the injured one was difficult to pull. "This won't work. There are companions waiting for emergency rescue over there. If we're late, there might be a risk to their life."
As soon as he finished speaking, the horse beneath him suddenly went soft. Although it quickly recovered and didn't jump around under his soothing, it was unclear where it had been injured.
"The horses can't take any more damage. You take them and hide in that alley first."
Wayne shot down a lunatic on the opposite side who was still distributing firearms from a sack. After retracting his head, he pointed his hand towards the back of the road upon hearing the suggestion.
While reloading, he estimated the remaining bullets, then whispered to the monk who had fallen, "You retreat first. That gun is almost out of bullets."
Once they were in the narrow alley between the two warehouses, the situation improved slightly. The number of opponents had already decreased, and if they didn't show their heads, they had no line of sight. The line of fire could only be squeezed around the corner of the alley.
The 'bang, bang, bang' of a pincer attack quickly turned into a turn-based 'you shoot, I shoot' from both sides.
Wayne knew that once both sides had shed blood and lost their cool, confrontations often escalated intensely, becoming a fight to the death.
So, after a few rounds, he took advantage of a break in the shooting to have the monk controlling the horses retrieve high explosives from his saddlebag. He lit them and threw them out, giving the people around the corner a surprise.
"Boom!"
It proved that sometimes, potent medicine is more effective and deterrent than precise treatment. After the explosion, the opponents barely even extended their gun barrels inside.
Wayne's simplified linear vision 'lens' floated out to take a look. In the still-dissipating smoke, he quickly took down a guy who seemed to be holding the line. The monk who had fallen from his horse also emerged, and his lever-action rifle fired a barrage through the smoke.
The situation completely reversed at this point, turning into a counter-attack from Wayne's side.
The last few guys on the opposite side probably hadn't encountered such a large-scale scene of 'watermelon smashing and soup splashing.' One guy who was originally commanding from the back directly turned his back to the audience and started to leave, and others were dragging injured companions back.
Wayne silently gave a thumbs-up to the former, shooting him in the knee to leave a mark, planning to consider apprehending him later when he had time.
Feeling that the opponent's will to fight had completely collapsed, Wayne retreated into the alley and recalled the direction from which the fireworks had risen. Then his gaze fell upon the two horses that had collapsed in the alley.
The monk holding the lever-action rifle noticed Wayne's pause, and his gaze also returned from the groaning figures lying on the ground, near and far, to the same spot as Wayne:
"Mr. Wayne, your purification ability is more effective at eliminating Coatle's curse. You go support them first. We can handle the aftermath here."
"Let's leave together." Wayne felt that such lines sounded inauspicious. He looked at the horse he had ridden, wondering if it was strong enough to carry three people at once. "Although they've retreated, it's not safe yet. We should avoid staying in one place."
The monk holding the lever-action rifle leaned his back against the wall and slid down to sit on the ground. "Now only your horse, Mr. Wayne, is usable. The situation over there might be worse, and we can't waste any more time."
"You're injured." Wayne observed the other's movements, not using a question.
"Not too serious. I should still be able to protect myself." The monk rested the lever-action rifle on his thigh. After speaking, he pulled the front of his outer robe, slightly gesturing to Wayne. "We are from the Church. They might not have such great hostility towards us."
Hmm... that reason is quite convincing...
The other monk had already led Wayne's horse over: "I'll stay and take care of him. If the situation is optimistic, with so many warehouses nearby, we should be able to borrow horses quickly and won't delay for too long. If we can't find horses, we'll leave as soon as possible."
Alright.
Both horses were down. Even if they were forced up, they might not run far, and now was not the time for modesty or sentimentality.
Wayne left the bolt-action rifle and the saddlebag containing bullets and high explosives with them, and took an emergency kit. "Be careful. There might still be their people nearby. The sooner you leave, the better."
"Don't worry, the malice of Demons is often more cunning and pure than that of living people. We are not new recruits."
"Be careful. If necessary, shoot to kill on the spot."
Wayne emphasized again. After surveying with his simplified linear vision, he quickly mounted his horse.
He pulled out his pistol to avoid being delayed on the road and, along the way, put extra shots into some of the guys lying on the ground—bullets were limited. He didn't bother with those who were merely 'groaning,' but if someone was lying down and still trying to pick up a weapon, their fingers would be shattered.
Wayne was actually very curious about the identity of these guys, but he had already considered this problem before.
Appearing with a dozen or so people, and wasting carrying capacity on sticks and clubs, didn't fit the style of professional bounty hunters or similar. It was more like the work of a gang from the Dock Area.
If they captured people, they would have to interrogate them, and what they said might not be the truth right away. There was no time to waste on them now, so he could only switch to another method of inquiry.
For example, those who could do such dirty work should probably be considered core members of a gang, at least the ones leading the charge. He would have the intelligence team inquire later to see if any gang in the Dock Area had suddenly lost a bunch of combat power—making up lies was easy, but making people disappear wasn't that simple. Some things could be hidden from the authorities but often couldn't fool fellow criminals.
Otherwise, Wayne wouldn't have told them to throw high explosives just now; it was simply a matter of limited time and wanting to save trouble.
Intentionally leaving some injured people was for the same reason. People with special markings were usually easier to find, and don't blame Wayne for being ruthless; if it were in the West, criminals would certainly prefer 'living with injuries' over 'painless reincarnation.'
The sound of hooves gradually faded away.
The lever-action rifle slipped from his thigh, and the hand that had been holding the gun now rested on the ground. The other monk had already hurried closer with the emergency kit. "Where are you injured?"
"The external injury doesn't feel too serious, but the fall wasn't in a good spot. As soon as I relaxed, my head started to feel very dizzy..."
"The bleeding isn't too much..." His companion checked his injuries. "I'll bandage you first."
"No need. Go see if there's anyone outside worth saving. If not, go find a horse first..." The speaker himself picked a small bottle from the emergency kit, threw away the stopper, and took a big gulp. After drinking, he sniffed the pungent smell inside. "I'll rest for a bit and then go help."
"I'll help you go together."
"It'll waste time... Let me sit for a bit longer. I'm fine."
...Alright, you're more professional than me when it comes to treatment." The lever-action rifle was placed back by the other's hand, followed by a flare, a candle, and some medicine. "Don't push yourself. If you feel unwell, call me. But don't set it too high."
"Got it..."
