Valefar slammed his foot on the accelerator of his car, the same one that he used to go with Chance to Pembroke. Even without a siren, the sound of the engine roaring was already enough a sign for people to get the hell out of the way, in addition to his left hand constantly slamming the car's horn.
He shifted left and right at times to avoid collisions with cars, and blitzed through the red lights like there was no tomorrow. Barbie Keane was in the passenger seat, resting the Hellfire gloves on her lap.
"I know you're tough, but do you really want to sell your soul for a Hellfire Arm?" Valefar asked in confirmation.
"Slow down!" Barbie screamed. Her hand tightly grasped the door handle, even with the seatbelt on, she felt the motion of the car was going to throw her off or slam her against the dashboard. "You're going to get us killed."
"Hellfire Arms and someone's potential death isn't like cancelling a tea party."
"I don't do tea parties. I do social gatherings."
"Same thing. Different name."
"You know sometimes I wonder, if you do have a spark of humanity inside of you, even if it's a tiny bit."
No reply from the Representative. Like any driver, his eyes were locked onto the streets in front of him. He made a sharp left turn, before he honked his horn. Barbie continued with her speech as she said gently in the passenger seat. She felt the smoothness of her seat. That thin but comfortable layer just being laid on by her back.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't harmed by your choice of words when you told me the truth about yourself, that you're not a businessman by the name of George Vale, at least not the kind of business I'd imagine you'd do for a living. I've never had that before, a man telling me to fuck off. Never at all."
She paused, before she looked out the window. "But you're a demon, Valefar. I should know better; that you demons hate humanity to the core. That we're probably bad apples to you and your kind. You mentioned your boss, the Gunsmith, maybe that's why he made those Arms, to get our souls, as well as to see humans causing chaos for one another, killing each other, hurting each other."
"You think the world would be better without those Arms?" Valefar asked.
Barbie looked at him with a calm glare. "No. I never said that." she sighed. "People aren't good enough for each other. Lloyd was no different. He was nice to me but he was an asshole to others. I always knew his line of work would get him killed one day, but I didn't expect a Hellfire Arm to be the reason he died."
The car soon came to a halt, as Valefar gripped his hands onto the steering wheel. Barbie gave a look at him, but it was a concerning one.
"Even with my disguises, I know what it means to be human, even though I'm not. In spite of you humans colonizing and populating large spaces on the planet, you're all doing it for a cause. Right now, I just want to get my boss' guns back." Valefar explained before he turned his face toward Barbie. "Think you can get the other Hellfire Arms outside of the gun fights? Get some people to help?"
"I can do that." Barbie spoke.
"Me and the others will get all of them, Barbie." Valefar spoke of Chance Gordon and co. "Every single fucking one of them."
***
First, there was a shot, then, there was rage.
Mustang side stepped left and right as Voyde pulled the triggers of Dark Dice. The dual revolvers he had were light as a feather, yet sturdy as a rock. The normal bullets it had were not any better. Faster than a standard revolver, and each bullet was guaranteed to make a few holes here and there.
Chance witnessed the fight going on, as he holstered Showdown back to his belt. Hardin appeared next to him.
"Let them be, Haverton." Hardin folded his arms as he leaned against the car Chance was close to. "You try to get involved and those two might kill ya on the spot."
"The guy named Voyde." Chance asked. "He's from the Old West like you?"
"You're as smart as the Havertons at the time!" Hardin spoke. Even without Chance's badge in sight, he could read the detective's thoughts, get a full profile of him by the time he touched Showdown the very first time. After all, Chance was wearing his set up back in the day. "Though you Havertons always know how to get to people, but since you're living in a different year, then the short answer is yes. That gambling bastard was active just like me."
Chance rolled his eyes out of curiosity. "Voyde's the same guy who killed you?"
"You shove that question back down your throat detective, either wise I'll have to teach you some manners." Hardin glared, but chuckled soon after. "Ah fuck it. I'm already a dead man. Simple answer is no."
When Mustang attempted to hit Voyde at close range with the stock of Tombstone, the user of Dark Dice crossed his arms like an X, before he pushed the air against Mustang. The older was in the air, but his fingers went onto the trigger and one by one, bullets started to head toward Voyde.
The user of Dark Dice proceeded to side step, before he swatted the bullets like flies using the barrels of his dual revolvers. Chance saw the smiling look on Voyde's face. It was almost as if this was all a game to him.
Maybe it really was a game to Voyde.
The eagle that was previously on Voyde's shoulder, Liberty, flew up into the sky and circled around the area where he and Mustang were exchanging bullets. Chance saw a line circling around the two fighting Hellfire Arm users.
So it's similar to Showdown, Chance thought when he saw the line stopping just a few inches away from his feet. He gently placed his fingers into the air, and felt a wall. It was invisible, but the dark line from his feet was as clear as day. The Haverton detective saw Mustang panting out of the tire. The fight he had with him clearly took his energy away.
"Let em be." Hardin exclaimed. "Besides, you can see that Mustang wanted this."
Voyde turned one of his arms sideways, causing Dark Dice to shoot sideways as Mustang bent his back and dodged the bullets. The old timer shot Tombstone with one arm. He straightened himself and went back onto his two feet, before he swiftly grabbed a Deadly Shell.
Voyde took out a black die from his coat pocket. It was a simple one in his hands, but as he threw it it became slightly larger, as big as his palms. He threw the dice gently and it rolled onto the ground. Mustang's eyes widened in horror as he inserted his Deadly Shell.
The die landed on a six. Voyde smiled as a red wave went through Mustang. The old timer felt his hands were stiff.
Why the hell am I slow, Mustang thought in horror. He heard clicks in his head, and looked down below. There were red circles targeting his chest. Two on the upper side, and a third circle was locked onto his shoulder. Voyde looked at his Hellfire Arm's hammer, he squinted his eyes and saw RAPID written on Dark Dice.
"Should have saved your energy before this." Voyde mocked at a slow motioned Mustang before the Dark Dice user slammed his right hand onto the hammer, sending a burst of three shots towards the red circles. The circles disappeared as soon as the bullets hit their targets. They ripped through Mustang's flesh and a hole was formed.
Tombstone was knocked out of Mustang's hands, as the old timer dropped down, barely having energy to breath as all that was in his view was the late afternoon sky. He winced in pain extremely hard, and he grunted in pure anger. He heard footsteps approaching him. Using what energy he had left, Mustang lifted his head to see Voyde walking toward him, one of his Dark Dice revolvers in his hand.
Voyde kneeled down to Mustang's level. The old timer was coughing up blood, as Voyde saw his victim's chest filled with three massive bullet holes.
"It's not fair, it ain't fair!" Mustang yelled.
"Revenge is a stupid game Mustang." Voyde spoke. "Besides, you ain't better. When the Hellfire Arms were broken out of Hell, you took up more killing, and just that adds more to that list of sins of yours. You think the Gunsmith doesn't know how his guns are being used? Or who uses them? You think he never tracks them?"
"He sent you?" Mustang spoke in disbelief.
"This isn't my original body." Voyde admitted. "But that's already clear as daylight to you. What hasn't been clear is killing is killing, no matter how much sugar you want to coat it with."
"You're always the no good devil that killed me and among other lawmen back in the day! No matter what your face is or your clothes are!"
Voyde didn't reply to that. He stuck his finger into one of the bullet hole injuries that was on Mustang's chest. Mustang yelled.
"Detective!" Voyde yelled out to the Haverton. "What's your business with this old timer?"
That was unexpected. Chance shook his head and spoke. "I'm looking for his employer! Bright! And I'm trying to get the Hellfire Arms back for Valefar!"
Valefar, Voyde thought, that name didn't sound familiar to him. Another devil perhaps? Or a man? He didn't think about it now, he looked at Mustang again. "You heard the guy, where's Bright?"
"I'm already a dead man." Mustang spoke. "He never told me, but that don't matter anymore. Just end it. Do it. DO IT!"
Wish granted, Voyde whipped out one of his Dark Dice revolvers, and shoved the barrel into Mustang's mouth. Mustang took his last breath, as he glared at Voyde's cold eyes, but the mouth, the mouth of Voyde wasn't grinning or smiling. It was just straight, almost disappointed.
Voyde didn't blink as he sighed, before he pulled the trigger, and Dark Dice's bullet ended Mustang, whose head went back onto the ground, and his body motionless. The old timer was no more.