NOVEL WEB Chapter 31: Three Fat Men
Quagmire took a double take at the incoming fatmen, there were in fact three of them. He was confused, baffled, and quite possibly bamboozled. He just felt the tremors from the ground just now? When he first fought them, he could feel the tremors from hundreds of meters away from him.
That was not the only thing that got into his mind that confused him, no, not that, but the fact that there were three of them! Having just felt the tremors just now is the equivalent of a fat man getting stealth technologies; why is that, and why is it so advanced?
There are things in the world that he just could not find the answer to, and this one is one of them. There is no absolute way that the flaps of fat that seemed to have a grudge in itself would not sink as it walked and, therefore, make tremors. He guesses that the world really is big.
Never mind that, things have just become utterly chaotic, and so he pushed back the thoughts in the far corner of his mind. He stared at the fat men and at the three ghouls. The night was young, and he was too.
With a firm decision, he readjusted his aim and ran toward the three ghouls; right now, he needed to make distance from the fat men. Those things have automated defense systems, and concurrently he is low on ammunition and needs to reload.
Quick steps he took, and as moments passed by, he made quite a distance from the three fat men. With a firm hand on the pistol, he aimed, all the while running in a relatively stable ground with no object that could impede him while using Eagle's Eye on the three ghouls.
His eyes focused and contracted as he pulled the trigger. The bullet came at a blistering speed, but the variable silencer silenced its loud and explosive noise. The bullet silently roared at the deep night space, as it violently crashed into head of the ghoul and in the process deforming itself.
The ghoul fell to the ground with a thud, with its blood gushing out on both sides of the head, where the bullet pierced through and came out. It struck the nearby tree after taking care of the ghoul. It was a valiant sacrifice of the bullet, and you could say it took a bullet to its knee for Quagmire.
Ten ghouls now lay lifelessly on the ground, and now two more ghouls and three fat men are left to be taken care of. With quick steps in succession, he jumped over a bush with the pistol in his hand and fully aimed at its next target. He pulled, and a shot came.
It came out and struck its target in less than an entire second. The movements were swift and efficient; it was the result of him living in this world and being able to earn ten thousand gold coins in the few days he was traveling with the Pathfinder; it meant that he now had killed countless ghouls, numbering in the hundreds.
With the final ghoul remaining, he aimed and fired without a second thought. The ghoul that was moving at an incredible speed towards him was shot and stumbled down into the ground as it no longer was able to command its decaying stench of a body.
With the twelve ghouls now lying dead, the once natural smell of the surroundings was now filled with the reek and stench of blood and decaying bodies. It was horrible and quite possibly unhealthy to be around such things.
Now only the three fat men was left to be taken care of, and to this time, the intensity of the tremors of the ground was increasing as time passes by. He glanced at the side where the fat men were and tried to think up of a solution. Unfortunately, there was only one solution, and that was.
"Superior Firepower." Quagmire, once a soldier of a great empire, stated with glee.
He unloaded the remaining bullets and had the limbs taken care of. With the magazine now empty, he reached for the ammunition webbing and grabbed a magazine. He pulled the magazine with a push of a button and reinserted the one with ammunition. He placed the empty one back in another webbing, the part filled with empty magazines.
He would insert bullets into it once he had the time; magazines and clips can be reused, after all, so he must not waste valuable resources.
He clipped the magazine back in and pulled the slide, which inserted the bullet from the magazine into the position to be fired. Once locked and loaded, he aimed and unloaded the entire magazine to the fat men in front of him who were dozens of meters away from him.
The limbs reacted swiftly and defended the main body and tragically perished as it fell to the ground. It was now noticeably less, so he repeated the process of reloading the Mark 1 pistol. Once fully loaded by sliding the slide, he once again unloaded the entire magazine, but this time strategically, only those with remaining defense limbs he fired onto, once gone, changed target.
Now the three fat men were rid of defense limbs, he grabbed his Mark 1 Bolt-Action Rifle from the spatial inventory with a variable silencer already attached to it; he bought another one a day ago, as he now had enough money to buy splurge and invest for his safety.
Now the time finally came, as the silencer on his pistol was scorching hot; this was what he was preparing for. He realigned his body positioned it in a firing position for a rifle, and fired three consecutive shots.
The shot rang out but was only able to travel a few dozen meters as the sound was suppressed by the silencer. The three shots landed on their targets precisely, and the three fat men died and fell to the ground as their bodies slumped in defeat. With that, he was finally able to sigh in relief.