Remnant 2 Double Barrel Novels & Stories

“Nice toy, Henri. Specs?” Henri grinned, leaning forward. “Custom Delatour V-9. Silencer’s flawless, no sound, not even a whisper. Less recoil than a Beretta, but packs 9mm Parabellum with extended range, 200 meters, clean. More firepower than standard models. Arm your men with these, and your stealth kills will be ghosts.” I set my cup down, intrigued, my fingers brushing Dante’s as I took the pistol. “Silent kills with this kind of range?” I said, turning it over. “Our crews could slip through Ricci’s old turfs without a trace. Or anyone’s.”

"Torin will handle the broadcast relays to ensure the live feed stays open to every pack in the Wilds. You take out the dampener generators in the north tower." "Consider it done," Maeve said, a feral, ruthless smirk spreading across her lips as her runes flared silver. "Nobody messes with our family's legacy again." The heavy double doors of the armory hissed open, and Rhys stepped inside. He was dressed in dark Starfall tactical leathers, his broad frame filling the doorway like a mountain of shadowed iron. The newly calibrated **Apex Relic** prototype sat flush against his massive chest—a seamless weave of matte-black titan-steel and polished moonstone conduits that hummed with a low, ter

Zen wasn’t lying when he said he had strong friends. “I’ll make you a custom gun without charge if you run an errand for me,” Ben told Sasha. “I need five horns and five axe fragments from the minotaur on floor ten. Can you do it?” Hearing it was free, Sasha immediately agreed. Ben described the special double-barrel sniper rifle he wanted to craft for Sasha. The gun could rake up critical damage combos each time her gold bullet landed on her target. It can fire rapidly without long cool-down periods and has less recoil than a regular double-barrel gun. However, the reload frequency was something Sasha had to work with. The gun was designed to be semi-automatic with a small chamber to reduce

"You don't drink it, I won't let you go." As I said before, there was no refusal. I stuffed the white pill into Aryo's mouth along with the mineral water on the table. The effect wasn't instant. I used to have it for the gig*lo who came over. Men who have their anuses pierced climax and limp more easily, I need a longer sensation. Men. That's why I have long-lasting drugs instead of stimulants meant for women. Waiting for a reaction, I tease Milly first. Don't forget, conquering opponents in bed is ingrained in the Wiratama family, directly proportional to getting rid of opponents in the business world.

He was holding one of the 7 deadly weapons - Gallows Dodger of the sin of pride . It was a heavily decorated talking double-barrelled revolver. This weapon had an "Over Kill" mode activated by killing enemies, where bullets were turned into weapons, significantly increasing damage!!!!! ---------------------

I looked at all the rifles, pistols and shotguns while they talked. Finally, grandpa said, "I need to get my granddaughter her own rifle. I'm thinking a .243 Remington model 700 camo with bolt action rifle with a Leupold scope should work for her. She fired my .243 at the ranch and she did well with it."

he hissed. He laid her down, his movements rough and efficient. As he began to thrust his fingers into her, her body shook with the force of it. Watching my best friend tremble under his touch sent a flare of jealousy through me. I wanted it to be me. I mirrored her movements, my own fingers moving frantically as I watched him finally enter her. He slammed into her with a raw, primal intensity. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, terrified they would discover me lurking in the dark.

We arrived back at the large mansion with a few more boxes of silver bullets and the weapon I was to wear. Rem had decided it was a good idea to equip himself with a Hunter’s gun, one that would be much quieter to shoot than any normal gun. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use it or the silver bullets, but he erred on the side of caution.

Tools of death are always more honest than the mouths that bark the orders. Elky strapped a Ka-Bar to his thigh, another at the ankle. He slid the MP5’s sling across his shoulder like a man fitting into alien religion. Night-vision goggles sat waiting in their padded case, lenses wide and blank like the eyes of a dead shark. He handed me a pair. “Russian surplus,” he said. “Not pretty, but they don’t blink.” I clipped them onto my vest. The weight dragged at my collarbones, promising a future of headaches and survival in equal measure.