Donald chuckled aloud. “You can shoot me to death as I don't have a firearm license. What about Mr. Dolton? Does he have a firearm license? Can I shoot him to death, too?”

Gren fell silent.

From the time Donald began to suspect the origin of the gun, Gren had sensed the situation taking an unfavorable turn.

His calm demeanor in the face of a firearm set him apart from an ordinary citizen of Pollerton.

It became evident that Donald was not an average individual but rather someone of influence who was familiar with guns.

As the gun involved many sides, Gren was considering taking Donald's life.

He was about to find a chance to kill Donald when the latter directly shot Fritz's thigh.

Bang!

A gaping wound appeared in Fritz's thigh.

Fritz held his thigh and crashed to the ground. Gren was about to pull out his gun when Donald pointed the gun at him.

Gren gulped and froze.

He did not expect Donald to fire the gun brazenly.

“Tell me your military unit number,” Donald ordered.

“Why should I?”

Bang!

Another gunshot rang out. This time, Donald had shot Gren's right wrist.

“Because I have the gun,” Donald said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Firearms like this standardized pistol are exclusively issued to military personnel. Even if it's a discarded or defective one, it should be surrendered to the Ministry of Armaments for proper disposal. Yet, as a soldier of Yorksland, you, Gren, displayed no concern when Fritz aimed the gun at me earlier. It appears that you even entertained the thought of killing me just now, right? You want to compete with me in a contest of speed and accuracy? You are no match for me.”

Gren quickly deduced that Donald had some connection to the military. Otherwise, he wouldn't possess such intricate knowledge about the proper procedures.

As he was hesitating, Donald pointed the pistol at his forehead.

“I shall kill you now under the charge of treason. You deserve this. So? Are you still going to keep your mouth shut?”

Gren knew that Donald wouldn't hesitate to fire the pistol.

He said through gritted teeth, “Gren Jopper, Military Unit Number 1721. I'm from the Eagle Special Operation Force at the South Sea Military Region.”

Donald gave it some thought and asked, “I believe the Eagle Special Operation Force was established three years ago, right? Who is the captain of your team?”

“Jimmy Stane.”

“Call him. Tell him to come here and meet me.”
The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255