Abyss Express

[Part①·Loss-making business]

Mr. Wen used all his strength to tilt his head slightly, trying to let his [chin], which had evolved over millions of years, slowly open.

Turn your head, move your spine, stick out your tongue, and lick the source of life.

"Mr. Wen? Vincent?" The cowboy saw the work badge on Mr. Wen's chest and also saw Mr. Wen's name.

In the west, Chinese workers had no human rights.

But Chinese workers with names and surnames, Chinese workers with English-translated names, and Chinese workers who understand English must be rich.

After the gunshots, many wild wolves had raised their heads.

Forced by high temperatures, they gradually become restless, swinging back and forth between hunger and survival anxiety.

They stared at the cowboy and the prey at the cowboy's feet, while they salivated at the little red horse behind the cowboy.

Little Dolly swung her tail and breathed heavily from her nose.

Jack was about to untie his belt and open the gate to release the water——

"——Oh! Sticking out your tongue? Vincent! You are such a greedy little cat!~"

This kid is gradually adapting to violence and using violence.

"But you have to pay the bill first! How about changing the wine? Come and try Jack's fresh wine?!"

The train is getting closer, getting closer.

Before his pants were completely unbuttoned, Jack suddenly became dejected. He tied his belt again, gritted his teeth and stomped his feet! He was almost driven mad by his stupid behavior!

He can't do it!

he can't do it

"Okay! Okay!"

Little Jack pretended to be relaxed, looking at the distant fields for a while and the red boulders at the mouth of the valley.

Finally, he moved his gaze to his feet and stared at this living dead of unknown origin.

"I'm going to save your life, right."

"Okay!~ That's it! I'm a noble! I'm still a noble!"

Grabbing the collar of the living dead man and slapping the kettle into Mr. Wen's mouth, Jack took Wen Bucai away from the railway track and started nagging again.

"If you can't pay me, I'll just waste five cents of my bullet money."

"First make a hole in your head, scratch your face, and then sell you to the state as an Indian."

"Yeah, that's what the Warrant Officer said. We can't be in a losing business, brother."

Wen Bucai swallowed the water in big gulps, even if it entered his lungs, a maddening itch came from his chest.

His eyes gradually became bright, and strength emerged from his limbs. He took away the cowboy's water bottle and returned to the world.

At this moment, the two Homo sapiens had completely stood up, and they were almost close to each other——

——The wolves completely gave up the idea of ​​hunting and hid back in the shady canyon along the thick vegetation.

Seeing Mr. Wen drinking happily, Jack felt like he was hesitant to speak.

The feeling is very subtle to describe, like seeing someone mid-poop and not being bothered.

After Mr. Wen finished drinking the water, he began to clear the remaining fluid in his lungs and coughed crazily while leaning on the hot rail.

Cowboys finally have some self-awareness and have to calculate the price clearly.

"Vincent, do you have money? I know you translators."

“Especially the translator from Syracuse.”

"You must be making more than I am, because I came to this damn place from Edinburgh and I haven't seen a full dollar in more than half a year. It's all cents, cents, cents - coins, coins, coins!"

Wen Bucai: "What's your name? What's your name?"

Only then did Jack begin to look squarely at the Oriental.

He has short black hair and big, bright eyes. He looks like he is in his mid-twenties. His muscles all over his body have lost their luster, probably due to dehydration caused by the sun and wind. Under his bronze skin, his arms have strong texture. He is about 1.8 meters tall and has a little beard.

The cowboy acted as a reply reader.

"I just want one dollar, it's really not much."

Mr. Wen also acted as a reply reader: "What's your name? Sheriff?"

It was also at this moment that Jack Martin had murderous intentions.

He calculated how much money he could make from this business, but this Chinese worker perfectly explained the true meaning of the difficulty of communication between different races.

You say yours and I say mine - even wild beasts cannot understand human speech and want to send it to the wall as an exhibit.

A yellow man who doesn't understand human language can't even earn back the five cents he spent on bullets.

A dead redskin Indian can be exchanged for eight dollars' worth of knives.

He could ask Uncle Bayan for some red mud paint, dye the yellow man's skin red, and then use it to replace the Indian. This is a good business.

These evil thoughts were running rampant in his mind. He suppressed his anger and finally turned back into a polite gentleman - because his ancestor was a gun-making lord and he had to stay elegant.

In the West, people die every day, from all kinds of reasons. The little cowboy is mentally building up on this.

Before killing the other party, you must state your name. Regardless of whether you are an Easterner or a Westerner, you must abide by this rule. This is a sacred ritual and cannot be skipped casually.

So the little cowboy said it innocently.

"Remember the cause of your death! Vincent."

"The person who killed you is me, Jack Ma..."

"Okay, Jack Ma." Mr. Wen interrupted.

Without even taking out his gun, Jack almost went crazy——

"——We can't communicate in English? How about switching to Chinese?! Can you really understand me? Can you only speak? Can't listen? Hello?"

Wen Bucai: "Thank you."

Jack awkwardly spoke out the next sentence in Chinese. He knew these three sentences in Chinese.

"I love you?"

Wen Bucai nodded: "Really, really, thank you very much."

The other party's casual attitude made little Jack feel very bad. He was half crazy and wanted to shoot Mr. Wen with a gun.

But when he reached for his gun bag, the young police sergeant lost his gun.

Mr. Wen inserted the revolver into his belt and threw the kettle back. Said to little Jack: "Jack, you saved my life, I will remember this kindness."

Little Jack once again fell into the dilemma of being hesitant to speak. He felt something was wrong, but he couldn't say it.

The feeling is very subtle. If you want to use a wonderful metaphor to describe it, it's like when milking a cow, little Jack milked a large bucket of milk, and when he gave it to Uncle Bayan in exchange for money, he found that he was milking a bull. .

Mr. Wen glanced at the foal behind little Jack from time to time.

Little Jack didn't know what to do for a while. It could be seen that he was still very young and a romantic and innocent person.

Vincent: "I think..."

Jack: "No! Give me the gun back! That's mine!"

Vincent: "I need a horse."

Jack: "It won't work. Dolly is my baby too."

Vincent: "It can, it can run really well. I remember Sanyang Town is twenty miles away from here, and it doesn't even sweat much."

Jack: "Vincent. You accepted my favor, stole my gun, and also borrowed my horse?"

Vincent: "Your horse is gone."

Jack rushed forward fiercely, but the barrel of the gun was blocked halfway.

The Colt that originally belonged to him was burned hot by the sun. Now he was holding it in Vincent's hand, and the shiny silver gun body looked so dazzling.

Jack yelled, but refused to lose his gentlemanly manner, and even cursed without using any curse words.

"You shameless and despicable thief! A deformed and crazy robber! You can't escape the punishment of the law!"

"Vincent! I remember your name! I also remember your job number!"

"I'll report you to Pacific Railroad!"

"You are going to be wanted! A bunch of bounty hunters will come to catch you soon! Are you scared? Ha!"

Little Jack spoke slower and slower——

——Because he saw that Vincent remained silent and his eyes became colder and colder.

There was a "click" sound.

The scarred thumb clasped the hammer, and the bullet nest made the grappling hook bite tightly, ready to fire at any time.

Little Jack raised his hands and glanced at the horse.

"It can! Yes, it can!"

"Actually, we are not that familiar, and our relationship is not that good. Dolly has always wanted a new owner."

Jack and Wen Bucai winked and spoke ill of their beloved horses as if they were guilty of committing crimes.

"It makes me feel sick. I saw it barking at the Malfoy sink! I know that it is a shameless bitch. Its heart no longer belongs to me. Sooner or later, I will be killed by it. ."

Vincent was very calm: "I'm going to Sloth Town to do something, Jackma, and I don't want you to come with me. The road is very dangerous, and you are my benefactor."

After saying that, he put away the gun, and Jack immediately pounced forward, but was forced back by Wen Bucai's divine speed of drawing the gun.

Wen Bucai: "I'll say it again, I don't want you to follow me."

"Oh! Wow!" Jack's face turned pale, he raised his hands again and stretched, pretending to yawn: "Chinese Kung Fu! Oh! Haha"

Vincent continued: "This counts as borrowing. Borrowing and repaying is not robbery."

Little Jack's eyes widened: "Is this what you did to your benefactor? Point your gun at me?"

Vincent said firmly: "I was dead, thank you."

Little Jack: "What the hell do you want to do?"

Vincent: "Now I'm going to collect the debt."

Little Jack's eyes lit up: "Yes! I want a debt! Finally, a few words that I can understand came out of your mouth! I like money!"

Vincent: "So?"

Little Jack: "Who do you want to get money from? Do you have my share?"

Vincent: "The Perfume Bottle Gang."

Little Jack: "Crazy!? Alone?"

Vincent: "No?"

"You're looking for death!" Little Jack shouted in shock: "The entire Arizona rangers formed a bandit suppression group and called the most powerful surgeons in the world to come and attach the crocodile's penis to them to strengthen their courage - they all Don't dare mess with these ogres! What nonsense are you talking about?"

Vincent: "In seven days."

Little Jack: "Your belly will be cut open by the butcher, and the intestines will be used to hold the brains. You will turn into a hanging sausage! The thighs will be cut into six pieces and served on the dinner plate. Sprinkle some black pepper and salt with table wine. Send it to the ogre's mouth!"

Vincent: "Right here, on this railroad track, I pay you back everything I owe you."

Little Jack was frightened and frightened.

"I don't want a horse or a gun anymore. Don't say you've seen me! I beg you!"

"If the Perfume Bottle Gang knows that I have a relationship with you, and if they recognize Dolly and the gun, they will never let me go! I don't want to cause trouble!"

"I will die, not only me, but also my uncle and aunt, my whole family will die!"

[Part②·Deja Vu]

After a long time, neither Vincent nor little Jack spoke.

They stood frozen. Perhaps Mr. Wen was also hesitating and wavering.

Because what Jack Martin said is true. If Wen Bucai fails, the perfume bottle will follow the gun and the pony Dolly's saddle trademark to Sheriff Jack's home - not only will he kill his benefactor, but he will also He killed his benefactor's family again and again.

Vincent used the muzzle of his gun to lift the police badge on little Jack's chest.

"Have we met somewhere?"

Little Jack: "I've never seen it before! Don't try to get close to me! I have a bottle of hair dye in my pocket! Can you put it on Dolly?"

Vincent: "I'm sure we met once."

The cold sweat on Little Jack's face reached to his chin, "Save it for me, Vincent..."

Vincent: "Fifty million years ago, we were just two fish."

Little Jack raised his hands in the air and continued to be weird: "Then you must be an ungrateful great white shark. I rescued you from the seaweed, but you turned around and ate me clean, not even a bone was left."

Vincent didn't take it seriously: "Give me the whip on your waist."

Little Jack did so.

"Jack!" Vincent yelled, "I'm leaving!"

Little Jack cheered up and gave up the French military salute.

There was hesitation and uneasiness in his eyes, and he was expecting and hoping in his heart.

Also afraid, not daring to face the devil.

"Perfume bottle! Perfume bottle! Vincent! Perfume bottle! There's nothing you can do! Stop!"

This is a notorious gangster group that roams the Grand Canyon of Colorado. It also protects many human trading companies in the form of official-bandit collusion.

Colored people from all over the world, through this gang, sent this barren and fertile land, turning it into a dead bone under the wooden sleeper and becoming new fertilizer in the plantation.

He is just a small police officer, and he is simply unable to fight against such a behemoth.

He hoped that this nimble Chinese man could really do something - maybe after seven days, his little Dolly and his beloved gun would return to him along with the banknotes.

Jack Martin is also afraid.

When he returns to this railway track again, he wants to take the reward sent by fate——

——Waiting for him, will it be another bullet?

In front of the power of nature, Vincent was lying on the ground dying just a few minutes ago. He had no choice but to welcome death.

Little Jack thought, maybe this man went to beg for wages? Even if he remains anonymous and continues to work as a translator in Xuecheng, he can live a good life. Why choose a dead end?

Little Jack thought about it for a long time, but still felt uneasy, so he embarked on this road of no return and headed towards Sloth Town.

To be on the safe side, he picked up a pair of boots next to the cactus as a spare shoe, in case the spurs of his riding boots broke and he had no shoes to wear.

Not far after running out, he saw Vincent reining in the reins at the fork in the road, seemingly waiting for someone.

Little Jack held up his shoes, turning from worry to joy, as if courage was flowing out of his body.

"I knew it! You don't have the guts!~ Hey!"

Jack gave a cheeky smile.

"Still! Are you waiting for me?"

He swung his butt, swayed his waist, and danced.

The hot wind is coming!

"Bang!--"

The two crystal scorpions in the boots had just climbed onto the uppers, ready to leave fatal wounds on little Jack's fingers with their crystal clear tails. The venom in their bodies was enough to kill a buffalo.

The two little beasts clung to each other, killing two with one shot, and turned into crumbs.

When he saw clearly the dead scorpion shards on the ground, little Jack turned pale with fear.

But he soon regained his energy, grinned again, and was nervous and excited because of Vincent's good marksmanship.

"How about we go back to Sanyang Town together, and you be my assistant and my groom? How about we catch criminals together and exchange rewards? Vincent! Vincent! Forget Sloth Town! Forget it. Get the perfume bottle!”

Vincent drove his horse and rushed to little Jack's side. His waist and back muscles almost blocked all the sunlight.

The unknown passer-by reached out and took out a handful of bullets from Little Jack's coat pocket.

Little Jack's smile froze on his face, and he slowly said the four English letters: "F·U·C·K."

Vincent: "I forgot to ask you for bullets. Do you have any more?"

Little Jack: "That's it?"

Vincent: "That's it."

Little Jack reluctantly took out two leather bags from his hip pocket, one bag of water and one bag of copper ammunition.

Vincent accepted it and didn't even say goodbye this time.

"You keep good accounts and I will pay them back."

When the horse ran away, Vincent's shadow was completely invisible.

Little Jack was so angry that he scratched his head and stamped his feet. He couldn't figure out why.

He is obviously so hardworking, so upright, and so diligent.

He has done a good thing! Save an innocent life! The result was nothing!

He thought about it over and over again, but his heart became more and more itchy——

——It was so itchy that it made him unhinged.

He fantasized about breaking into a bandit's den single-handedly and walking into a small town. A large group of enemies emerged from the archway houses on both sides.

He imagined how heroic and graceful he would look when he drew his gun to face the enemy.

Fantasy is still fantasy.

- It's hard to come true, it's hard to come true.

Little Jack frowned, pursed his lips, and lowered his head in grievance.

They were a pair of fine leather boots made of Indian leather and sewn with thick hemp rope.

Who is its owner? Little Jack doesn’t know——

——But he hated the slogan about President Washington using human skin to make shoes.

He took off his human-tanned shoes and put on Wen Bucai's shoes.

He looked into the distance, threw away his gun and horse, and went home to be scolded.

He walked fifteen feet, which was exactly the winning distance of the Arizona gunfight, and turned back.

He took the first step he had never thought of in the direction of Mr. Vincent's horse galloping.

"Vincent! Here I come!"