The Strongest Gun Magus: I Cast Bullet!-Chapter 55: Scram!

For two more weeks, Reynard had his peace.

Then, he sold a batch of potions to the Order of Snow.

***

Reynard woke up from the loud banging on the door. He immediately sat up and grabbed his weapon holster.

This was exactly what Marien had warned him about yesterday.

That night, instead of going to sleep in an inn, he settled for the night on the workshop’s floor, right next to Chili’s indoor pen. In clothing, and with weapons nearby.

The adolescent Forge-Boar woke up, too. He huffed out a plume of fire and smoke.

Reynard put the holster on and cast Spirit Armor on himself. A stronger hit landed on the door. The entire workshop shook from the force of the blow, and the door creaked pathetically. It was one good blow away from falling apart.

"We know you are here, smith! Don’t think that this will stop us!" a familiar voice shouted from the other side. "We warned you! This is your last chance to beg for forgiveness!"

’And of course, since this is Winter’s territory, the entire district will pretend that they didn’t hear this ruckus,’ Reynard thought.

"Wait, don’t break my door! I will come out!" Reynard shouted, moving to the door before he was forced to pay for its repairs.

Behind his back, Chili grumbled angrily and shoved the edges of his pen.

They also creaked, since they were built for when he was much smaller and more manageable. But held.

Reynard opened the door to the same two thugs he had seen two weeks ago. Now they were wearing breastplates and helmets over their heavy fur clothing. Both had magical lanterns attached to their belts, lighting the night.

Before the magi realized that he wasn’t going to beg, Reynard pulled out a pair of revolvers from his pockets and aimed for the magi’s faces.

A cacophony!

The sound of repeated shots made Reynard’s ears ring. But the other magi had it worse!

Reynard’s first shots were well-placed. They tore the narrow-faced man’s cheek and left a wound somewhere under the bearded man’s beard.

After this, the magi had time to react, and Reynard’s shots became carried away by recoil.

Several more bullets hit the torsos, hands, and armor of the magi, while others buzzed past them, striking houses on the other side of the street.

It was absolute violence, crammed within two short seconds. In the wake of it stood Reynard, holding a pair of smoking revolvers in his hands.

The thugs staggered back, bleeding onto the packed snow underneath their feet. The wind immediately brought fresh snow to cover the spots.

They stared at Reynard with wide, scared eyes. None of them has ever seen magic items quite like this. If they existed, they surely must’ve been incredibly expensive and easier to notice on someone’s person.

The thugs thought Reynard was a magus who could only craft in his workshop, but he just shifted their entire view of what was and wasn’t possible in the world!

"Scram!"

Reynard’s shout was the last drop.

Holding onto the last pieces of their pride, the thugs scrambled away.

"You will regret this!" shouted the bearded man.

"Whe whill bwetuwn!" echoed the narrow-faced one.

’Stitch your face first! How are you planning to read spells right now?’ Reynard shook his head, let out a long breath, and looked at his revolvers.

On a closer inspection, the right one misfired—a bullet was stuck in its chamber.

’They are really less reliable than the front-loaded ones adapted for bullets. At least, if I shoot them like that. But... Why would I want to use FEWER bullets, when they won’t kill an Albedo magi after a shot to the face?’

"Oiiiiiiink! Grunt, grunt!"

Reynard abandoned his thoughts and quickly holstered his guns.

"Oh, shit. Chili! Calm down, don’t break down your pen, I don’t want to repair that, too!"

***

Two days later, Marien and Reynard met again. Like most times lately, it wasn’t in a public part of a restaurant, but in a separate booth.

Marien was looking dreamily at Reynard over their table.

"I wish I could see how you have sent these oafs running! They are still complaining about it. Their pride was hurt more than even their ugly faces! Especially because of their order’s beliefs. Among these people, the stronger person is right, and since you made them flee like fleas, you are in the right!"

"Really? They didn’t look convinced of my righteousness when they ran away that night."

Marien pouted.

"No... Of course, they won’t admit defeat when they get it, these scoundrels! They claimed that it wasn’t an honest fight because of your artifacts, and that it wasn’t a fight at all, and they were just scouting. Hmph!"

Seeing the concern in Marien’s eyes, Reynard smiled.

"So these two are about to return with more friends?"

"Right! I heard about three more people. The Order of Winter is much larger than the Blue Bismuth School. They have so many Albedo magi that they can just send five of them on a task like that. Even if they are of the early Cycles. That’s no small threat! And you will be all alone."

Reynard smirked.

"Only five magi? Well, that’s not a dozen! If I beat them up, the Order of Winter should calm down. They will have to admit that I’m in the right this time. And surely the Order of Snow will be happy to hear about it."

Marien jutted out her lower lip pitifully.

"I wish I could fight alongside you. The way you are describing your fights is not even close to the real thing! I want to see how your new guns shoot! And you won’t even give me one of your revolving guns..."

"They are prototypes! They aren’t reliable enough yet, my beautiful! Not to mention, they have a bad reputation in this city right now, I’m sure."

Marien kept her pout on for a few more seconds, then gave up.

"Hmph! This is what you always say. But what else can I do to help? At least let me tell you what they can do in a battle..."