Novel & Cerita The Gunslinger

He got a bullet in his left arm, I didn’t think twice before grabbing a gun from one of the dead men, crawling to Diego ignoring my father’s warning from where he was hiding. The sound of an engine and explosions that seem to be loud and vicious caught Roderigo’s attention, I was already halfway and close to Diego. The door was disintegrated from the hinges, and out stepped a monster of a man, huge, tall with eyes blazing with fire. His upper body was inked with tattoos, he had a two huge guns hanged on his shoulder with a cigarette in his mouth. “Where is my brother?” He snarled, his voice like thunder.

he threatened me. I smirked at him but that look was wiped of my face when I saw he had a gun. A wolf's bane gun. Filled with silver bullets. I glanced at the color at the tip and gritted my teeth. It was black. Meaning it was the deadliest silver in the whole pack. It was a straight kill. No mercy. I knew and then I had to be careful.

Rhino and Switch flanked the truck, engines roaring as they forced it into the canyon wall. “Now!” Ghost shouted. The team converged, rifles aimed, ready to subdue the remaining cartel members. Luca was beside Ghost, firing and moving with lethal efficiency. Ghost couldn’t help but notice how precise Luca was, every shot measured, every movement calculated. A bullet grazed Ghost’s shoulder, tearing through leather. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the sting, and returned fire. Luca noticed, ducking low, but didn’t hesitate to cover him. “Damn it,” Ghost muttered, a small smile breaking through the tension. “You’re getting better at this.”

It's just that, under the eyes, he turns into Tadhg Walter's guardian, and Gunner Vivian, is Tadhg Walter's summoned beast. As if he really wanted to discuss his identity, he was only afraid that he would have to kneel down. But Gunner Vivian, no comparison, so he dared to call himself Gunner Vivian: Gunner Vivian. Gunner Vivian, the look of joy is great at this moment. Thousands of thousands did not expect that this time there was no injury, even though there was no suffering, in the end it was still enjoyment, but let it break through the realm.

My heart slammed against my ribs, but my hands were steady. We rounded a corner. Three men at a table—maps, guns, beer bottles. One looked up. Luca fired first—silenced shot, center mass. The man dropped. The others spun. Chaos. Gunfire erupted—muffled pops, shouts. I dropped behind a crate, Luca shielding me with his body. He returned fire—precise, lethal. One down. Another. A fourth man came from the side—straight at me. I didn’t think. I raised my gun, aimed low like last time, squeezed. The shot hit his thigh. He screamed, collapsed.

He begged with his cry, making it louder until my ears hurt to hear it. I smiled sweetly, deliberately making him feel like he was in the hell of the world. “I am a trained Gunslinger. You should be proud to die at the hands of a woman whose parents you killed.” “No! No!” He shook his head brutally. “Goodbye. See you in hell!” I pulled the trigger, and within seconds, the bullet went through his forehead.

Amy didn’t shout, didn’t give warning, her fingers were already pressing into the trigger before their eyes adjusted BANG. One down neck shot, blood splattering the metal wall like a sick painting. BANG. BANG. Two more — down before they realized the angel of death wore heels. The youngest girl screamed as bullets shredded through the air. Amy ducked low, her body shielding her like instinct. Another man lunged — too slow. She turned, fired, his brains hit the floor first. The last shot rang out as one of the men lifted his hand not in surrender, but hesitation. Amy didn’t gamble with hesitation, the velvet fell from the gun like a promise broken. She stood straight, gun smoking. Her face un

Guard 1: I don't believe you, Open the bag and offload the things inside it (The hitman anxiously opens the bag and the guards see sniper, rifle and many other types of shooting guns in it) Guard 1: (gasps) Young man, what on earth are you doing with these guns? Hitman: (stammers) Umm... I.... I... Guard 1: ANSWER ME! Hitman: (pleads) I'm sorry... I never meant to shoot her... Guard 1: Shoot her? Who are you... Hold up, Were you the one who shot Mr Smith's daughter earlier today?

I adjust the rifle on my shoulder and exchange a look with Silas, and focus on one of the Surfers gunmen and the bed of a truck just as two sleek muscular wolves burst past us, one white and one red. A curse slips past my lips, but I pull the trigger, knowing the best thing I can do now is make sure I land every shot. Just as I think that, the man I was aiming for drops his gun, his arms flailing as his body rocks back from the force of my bullet hitting him at the side of the head. I don’t miss a beat, aiming for my next target and firing, because for each moment I don’t, is a moment that one of them can take out one of my mates. I push down the panic that rises at that thought and aim for

the dagger guy said, the smile on his face just as disgusting as Ryker's had been. "You fool, we won't risk our lives just for some of your greedy wants," another said, and with that, he walked forward with a gun in his hands. I knew it was no ordinary gun. The gun must have been loaded with silver bullets capable of killing any werewolf. "You don't have to do this; there is still a chance..." Then there was a gunshot.