Entering the only tavern in town that was still open, Gant glanced around unceremoniously, like a lion patrolling its territory, and the drinkers gave way.
The bounty hunters who were hanging out in the west were obviously not easy-going people. They could see that these two men in military uniforms had a strong aura of gun smoke. Even if they encountered such soldiers on weekdays, they would stay as far away as possible.
, coupled with the fact that we are now in a sensitive period, once you are called a "suspect" and dragged into the military camp, it will not be as simple as paying someone to redeem you.
Pulling up a chair on the bar, Gant said loudly: Two glasses of whiskey! Old Defoe, you stingy man, I knew even if Satan came, he couldn't stop you from opening the door to make money. If you don't squeeze the last cent from those drunkards, you are the best.
Won’t give up.”
"Hmph, shut your stinky mouth, Sergeant. Without me, where would you get the wine now?"
The boss wiped the table skillfully, pushed the half-full wine glass in front of the two of them, nodded to Algren and said: "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Captain, I knew you would never die in the hands of the devil.
Yes, after all, you are God’s darling and the light of the American Army. I heard you left the 7th Cavalry Brigade a few days ago. Is it for..."
Algren picked up the wine glass and took a sip. He stared at the tavern owner calmly and said: "Thank you for your compliment, Old Defoe. You are right. Of course, I am referring to leaving the army. This time I am just curious, not for
What, but please tell me everything you know."
"Everything?" Old Defoe sighed, and the wrinkles on his face gathered together, showing unspeakable distress. He said helplessly: "Spare me, Captain. I have said it countless times these days, no matter it is
Those people are still——"
He pointed at the drinkers in the lobby who were secretly paying attention to the place even though they were drinking, and then pointed in the direction of the police station. "Police officers from both inside and outside the town ask me the same question every time. Oh, what else?"
It's easy to say that the tragedy of a killer from afar killing an entire company of soldiers, including our beloved Major Bagley, out of revenge, is that simple."
"Bagley is just a show-off!" Gant retorted angrily.
Algren suddenly raised his head and stared at his boss, and he heard something different: "You mean a killer from afar, a? Far away? Why are you so sure?"
The tavern owner was stunned. He looked at Algren's serious expression and sighed again: "Let me just say, Captain, you are the smartest guy I have ever seen. No one has ever asked me like this. Well, I used to help with transportation."
You know, no young person wants to do this kind of work, and our government is even stingier than me. They only pay..."
"Stop nagging, old Defoe, tell us something that interests us!"
The boss who was interrupted by Gant glared dissatisfiedly, and still said slowly: "Okay, okay, as you know, I was also a famous intelligence agent in this area before I retired. You have to know that this industry can survive as long as I do."
Older people are even rarer than the congressman. I can tell at a glance that the killer has absolutely no accomplices. The unique killing method and the footprints that left almost no traces are not included. These newspapers have said it, but I will only say one thing -
—”
He leaned in front of the two men and whispered: "In the West, or the entire United States, most men are good with guns, and the more skilled they are, the more they will rely on their most reliable means to kill the enemy. Please read it over
Newspapers, almost all murders are gunshots, without exception! So the devil must have come here from a distant place, perhaps a recent immigrant, and still retains the traditional martial arts skills of using sharp blades. Think about it, those ancient assassins in Europe,
Spain, Italy, Ottoman…”
"And the East..." Algren thought silently.
"That's all?" Gant shook his big head and took a big sip of wine in disappointment, shouting with a unique loud voice: "I'm talking to Old Defoe, you've been telling your story for a long time, can you tell me something useful, such as your height?
There is no way to find the murderer based on his weight and appearance, even if we know that the other person is a foreigner, at least tens of thousands of people come to the United States from Europe every year, so how can we find him!"
The boss shrugged: "That's all I can tell you. Other newspapers have said it more clearly than me. Countless reporters, police detectives, and expert analysis. To be honest, I don't think the murderer can escape for a few days. Oh my God,
A whole hundred thousand dollars! Is there anything in our great America that cannot be done with dollars?"
"Captain, it was a mistake for us to come here. I knew this old guy had nothing to say, so we should go and see for ourselves." Gant suggested.
Algren nodded, took out a five-dollar bill and put it on the bar: "Thank you, my friend."
Looking at the two people's retreating figures, Old Defoe vaguely recalled a thin figure with his cowboy felt hat lowered and only a gray beard exposed one morning. He shook his head. In any case, what did these things have to do with him?
Judging from the current situation, he would never dare to accept such a bounty even if he knelt down to beg him...
"This greedy bastard must be trying to get more tips. It's such a waste of time." Gant took out a dry and hard tobacco leaf and chewed it fiercely.
Algren was silent.
After listening to what Old Defoe said, he could almost confirm that the real murderer was the mysterious oriental man living in the Indian tribe.
Even if he couldn't be caught, he could get $10,000 just by providing solid information. If Algren wanted to, the money would almost be in his pocket.
But for some reason, Algren didn't want to do this. The wailing that echoed in his ears all the time after the massacre made Algren miserable. Apart from getting drunk, he couldn't find any other way to restrain this torture.
.
After hearing about Bagley's tragic end, he suddenly felt that the guilt in his heart was slightly relieved. From this point of view, the oriental man was actually his great benefactor.
He would never sell this kind of kindness for $10,000. This is what Algren insists on!
"Sergeant, come with me to a place."
"Where? Why don't you go back to the military camp to investigate first? Okay, okay, you have the final say, sir."
"Thank you Gant, my brother, and I am no longer your commander."
"No, you always will be."
Kazuyo Sorayama stood quietly in front of the grave where the entire Cheyenne tribe and Bagley's head were buried. Next to him was Tuko, who kept counting hundred-dollar bills with a grin on his face.
The duo's operation was extremely smooth. The gangsters who originally needed to be searched for a long time came to the vicinity on their own initiative due to Sorayama Kazuyo's gold-absorbing physique, which made people marvel at the wonder of fate.
This is the beginning of Kazuyo Kuyama in this strange country. As Kazuyo Kuyama, who has always been in the civilized world, he lives a slash-and-burn farming life in the vast Gobi Desert and among the Indian tribes in semi-primitive conditions. Although the life of hunting and gathering is quite difficult, it also completes the puzzle of his life.
important parts of.
For Kazuyo Sorayama, here he resisted the temptation to return to his youth, and would rather break his vows than fight to the death. In the end, he got to deal with Tuko, a ruthless villain who he had never encountered in two lifetimes combined. When he let go
All of this is about to face the moment of return, and the thick fog surrounding the sword's heart shows signs of dissipating.
"It's just that the price is too painful." Ichiyo Sora sighed silently.
Everything in the past has been buried by time, space, or dust, and I don’t know where to go or how it will end. “It’s sad that you died with sorrow, but where and when am I connected?”
, I am not sure who I was killed by, and I was fooled by the unknown. Compared with me, it is a blessing to end my hatred and be buried here forever..."
"Dead people don't crawl out of their graves to drink wine and eat meat." Tu Ke stuffed the banknotes into his arms with satisfaction, sniffed them vigorously, and complained as he looked eagerly at the golden hare meat roasted in front of the grave.
"Shut up! You've never been there, so how do you know whether they eat or not? Maybe I can help you and let you practice?" Kazuyo Sorayama, who was interrupted from deep thought, said lightly.
The guy next to him pursues money, to be precise, he pursues life. In Kazuyo Sorayama's opinion, he is more persistent than his pursuit of kendo.
"Haha..." Tu Ke scratched his head and raised his chin and said: "Now Tu Ke is a rich man with a net worth of 20,000 US dollars. How can he care about dead people? These inferior rums are not worthy of Tu Ke at all. I want
Drink the best red wine, which costs hundreds... no, tens of dollars a bottle, and the bottle mouth is wrapped with gold foil, the kind imported from France! And you also go to the best Italian restaurant to eat seafood, ah, what a wonderful life!
"
Kazuyo Sorayama looked at Tuko with a little curiosity: "Oh? Aren't you going to buy a piece of land and become a farmer?"
Tu Ke shook his head: "Farmer? No, no, my dearest friend, don't you really think about doing more business? You have to know that there are not many opportunities like this, because your business is the most famous in the United States.
Robbers, villains, and killers are all coming nearby. Frank, Sean, Meng, and the few we have exchanged for bounties, as long as they do a few more votes, they can make a fortune immediately. This is a good opportunity given by God! Come!
I didn't buy a farm at that time. I worked hard to grow corn once a year, but cutting off their heads saved even the cost of seeds."
Kushan Yiye was shocked by Tu Ke's fallacy and said, "Haha, I didn't stop you. You can harvest your crops at any time."
Tu Ke was stunned and said with a grimace: "Song, my dearest friend, if I had your skills, the Lone Star Republic would have hope for independence, and Tu Ke would have no need to go hungry and eat grass all the time? Hehe, let's talk about you.
Aren’t you afraid that I’ll expose you? After all, it’s information worth 10,000 US dollars!”
Seeing Kazuyo Sorayama staring at him coldly, Tuko showed two gold teeth without any care, grinned and said: "My friend, you don't need to scare me, although you may have killed more people than I have ever seen.
There are many people, but I know you will not draw a gun on me... um... draw a knife. Your character is more noble than those poor European aristocrats who fled to the United States. How do you say that word? Noble!
Right, that is it."
This guy... Sorayama Kazuyo turned his head helplessly.
Although he made a lot of money following him, in the final analysis, Tu Ke helped him a lot. Without him, he didn't know how long it would take to leave the country. Especially in the current crisis-ridden situation, he still needed him.
s help.
Even so, Sorayama Kazuha found quite clearly: After all, he was no longer the young man who fearlessly killed Edo with just a sword.
"Tu Ke, I also want you to accompany me to San Francisco and buy a ferry ticket for me. With my current status, it is not convenient for me to do these things."
"Sigh... I know that good times will not always come to you." Tu Ke sighed, "You still have to leave after all. As an Oriental, of course you have to return to your own country. So, China or Japan?
?”
"Let's think about it on the way..." Sorayama Kazuyo was silent for a long time, then suddenly raised his head and said: "Before that, maybe we can do one last business? Two people, two horses, the old rules."
"Praise God!" Tu Ke rubbed the handle of the gun and whistled excitedly, his eyes shining like a hungry wolf.