Munitions Empire

From time to time, strange insect noises could be heard, and even the howls of wild beasts in the distance. The forest at night was not silent, on the contrary, it was noisier and more bustling than during the day.

Time ticked away, and after reloading another rifle, Old Roger found a suitable angle to help guard the other side of the carriage with Tang Mo.

"Wes?" Tang Mo seemed to see a faint figure at the edge of the light and called out, unsure whether he was identifying friend or foe, or simply calling to his comrade.

Quickly, the first man carrying an ax with an ugly face charged out of the darkness, heading straight for Tang Mo, already shouting to boost his own morale.

Kicking the carriage door open with his foot, Tang Mo made a slight adjustment to aim the rifle, targeting his assailant. With the carriage lamps burning outside, the inside of the carriage wasn't clearly visible from the outside.

The man, who was charging with the ax raised above his head, saw the carriage door suddenly open; the arrows stuck in it were even broken off. His footsteps hesitated for an instant.

Then, he saw a flash of fire in front of him and heard a crisp gunshot by his ear. He felt a hammering impact on his chest, his legs lost strength and tangled, and his body involuntarily fell forward.

Tang Mo, having shot his target, tossed the rifle behind him and picked up the second one.

"Bang!" Outside the carriage, a second gunshot rang out immediately afterward. It was unclear whether it was Wes firing or one of the bandits also armed with a firearm.

"Ah!" A second bandit emerged from the darkness, holding a ragged longsword. He wore an iron helmet on his head but no armor on his body.

"Bang!" Tang Mo didn't bother with pleasantries and pulled the trigger again, aiming at the man. A bullet flew out of the barrel, and the man's roaring instantly turned to a scream as he tumbled down in front of the carriage, much like the first fool.

Tang Mo reached out, and Old Roger passed him the engraved, custom-made K1 rifle that was supposed to be presented to Earl Fisheo.

The next second, Tang Mo was ready to shoot for the third time, peering through the rolling white smoke in the lamplight, vigilantly watching the darkness not too far away.

Unnoticed, the creepy insect buzzing and animal growls could no longer be heard, and everything went terribly quiet.

"Hmm..." Outside the carriage, amidst the stillness, a muffled groan was heard. Tang Mo even detected the faint sound of a longsword puncturing a body and clashing with bones.

It was unclear whether Wes had been taken down or if he had eliminated another bandit attempting to flank them. In any case, after the rustling noise ceased, there was no more movement behind them.

To say there was no movement was, in fact, not quite right. Old Roger, who had been guarding the other side, was nervously trying to push a paper cartridge into the chamber of his rifle.

"They're reloading! Charge now!" In the woods, a voice loudly barked orders—it was obviously the leader of these thieves.

In his clamorous call to action, another man approached with a longsword. But this time he didn't shout or run; he came closer cautiously and deliberately.

Of course, Tang Mo didn't give him a chance. He aimed directly and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!" Another gunshot resonated in the jungle, making the night even more silent and terrifying. It seemed as if the whole mountain forest was echoing the shot, which slowly faded into the distance.

Tang Mo handed the used rifle back to Old Roger behind him, only to find that the other man had failed to load the first rifle due to his jittery hands.

If judged by the loading speed of a well-trained soldier, Old Roger's speed was too slow. This caused a gap in what should have been a continuous gunfire.

Tang Mo, knowing the importance of keeping one's powder dry until it mattered most, realized that there was no point in holding anything back now. So he discarded the K1 Quick Gun and pulled his secret weapon from his waist—the only Left-Wheel Handgun in the world.

Although it was just a cap-and-ball revolver, and it only had six bullets, in that era, there was no more ferocious close-range firepower.

It was his biggest reliance and a weapon he trusted. Tang Mo felt that by the time he emptied the six bullets from his handgun, Roger should at least have loaded three Quick Guns.

By that time, he could fire three more shots! With the previous three shots and possibly the one fired by Wes, the continuous shots should take down at least 13 bandits. Even by the standards of a merchant convoy's guards, that was a formidable firepower that bandits would be reluctant to provoke.

Moreover, even in this era, it was absolutely rare to have a bandit gang of 13 people. Even if they had twenty men, it was more likely that they would choose to flee immediately after half their comrades were continuously shot dead.

Troops that didn't retreat after losing a third of their number were already considered iron armies in these times, so how could mountain bandits possibly possess the discipline to fight to the death without retreating after losing more than half their number?

The bandits could only be blamed for choosing to attack at night. The close combat distance ensured the accuracy of the muskets. Had the battle taken place from afar, firearms of the era were so inaccurate that it was already considered very lucky to hit a target once out of ten shots.

As Tang Mo was making these calculations in his head, the bandits made another move. Driven perhaps by hunger-driven madness, or convinced that Tang Mo and his group couldn't possibly have that many guns prepared, two more men waving their weapons charged out.

Tang Mo was unapologetic. This time, since he had a relatively short Left-Wheel Handgun in hand, it allowed him more room to maneuver.

However, it wasn't without disadvantages, as the smoke billowing from three consecutive shots had already begun to obscure his vision somewhat.

There was no helping it; the gunpowder of the age was just that unreliable, and Tang Mo had already made up his mind that if he could get out alive this time, he would definitely get to work on smokeless gunpowder technology first.

Narrowing his eyes, he peered through the sulfur-tinged white smoke and spotted the two rushing bandits. Both men were tall and seemed to be using the spreading smoke to their advantage, silently charging with their weapons in different directions.

"Bang!" A crisp shot echoed through the woods once again as Tang Mo saw, through the gap of the aiming notch, the man beneath his gun muzzle fall down clutching his chest.

By the time he aimed at the other bandit, he saw Wes emerge from a diagonal direction with a bloodied Longsword in hand.

His movements were agile, the Longsword striking like a serpent's tongue. With a sneak attack, he managed to wound the bandit's arm.

But the bandit, with a fierce and ruthless strength, swung his Longsword, forcing Wes, who tried to entangle him, to retreat.

And just as Wes pulled back, Tang Mo's gun fired once more, and, as fate would have it, the bullet struck right through the neck of the robust man.

Blood splattered instantaneously as the man's artery was pierced. Trying to cover the gaping wound in his neck, he realized he could do nothing to stem the gushing blood.

He tried to speak but could only cough up blood. When he turned to face Tang Mo, he had already collapsed to the ground uncontrollably.

Hidden in the shadows just moments before, Wes saw Tang Mo fire a shot and presumed he had no chance to reload, so he revealed himself for close combat, stopping the burly man from nearing the carriage.

But he could never have imagined that Tang Mo had a second handgun hidden away! After the second shot rang out, he stood there, stunned, reassessing the danger level of the young man in the carriage.

Who would have thought a weapon shop owner with little world experience would carry not one but two handguns on his person while traveling? When he had boarded the carriage, Wes had checked; from the bulkiness, it seemed Tang Mo had one handgun at his waist, but he never guessed Tang Mo had another handgun concealed on him!

Of course, he could never have guessed that Tang Mo had in his hand a gun capable of consecutive firing. Even though he was a master in his own right, it was impossible for him to overturn his own experience.

While he was still in shock, a bandit hiding in the darkness, with Longsword in hand, crept closer to his side, attempting to ambush and take out this fat sheep on the perimeter.

Tang Mo wafted away most of the smoke before his eyes and saw everything clearly. He decisively raised his handgun once more, aimed beside Wes, and pulled the trigger again.

"Bang!" The sound was like a cannon, hammering into Wes' mind. He watched, eyes wide, as Tang Mo's handgun fired twice in succession!

As the sound of the shot echoed, the bandit attempting the ambush paused like he'd been electrocuted, then curled up and fell with a muffled groan. Wes, shocked by all this, was momentarily flabbergasted.

By then, six gunshots had sounded from within the woods. Even if these bandits were slow to catch on, they could sense that things were going awry. The other side's firepower was strong; this was definitely not an ordinary merchant convoy!

The whole affair had clearly gone beyond the bandits' plans for robbery; the continual gunfire was eerie and out of place in this era.

Who could have imagined? The very first real-world application of the Left-Wheel Handgun would erupt in an unknown grove, in the dark of midnight...

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This book has been signed. mendation tickets, monthly tickets, and rewards... Uh, shamelessly asking for a wave, rolling around acting cute...

(Also, apologies... Dragon Spirit got too excited and didn't count the bullets right, sorry, it's been corrected now, please be understanding.)