"Shoot…"
Bitt's gun misfired, and the boy seized the opportunity, pulling out a minigun hidden in his boot and shooting Bitts in the shoulder.
Bitts stumbled back and knelt down.
"I told you," the boy said, grinning. "My gun won't shoot me."
Bitts raised his chin, facing the boy. Now I get it. He's not just some ordinary rookie. He must have been trained by someone extremely skilled. First, he made me take his gun; then he made me think he only had two. And while we fought, he counted the bullets I fired, waiting for the right moment to shoot me. What a clever boy. Fighting him directly may be tough.
"Hey, kid, why did you shoot me in the shoulder instead of the head?" Bitts asked, trying to catch his breath.
"Because I want this to be a fair fight between men."
"So, you consider yourself a man, huh? How about we finish this with a showdown?" Bitts suggested.
"Okay, fine by me."
Bitts stood up and tossed the boy's guns back to him. "What are you looking at? I have my shotgun."
The boy smiled and took his guns, the two of them now ready to fire.
The townsfolk watched with fear and sweat-slicked faces, wondering who would be the one to fall.
And then—
BANG!
The boy fell to the ground.
Everyone gasped, shocked and saddened for the boy.
"Yeah!!! Fantastic, Bitts! That was—" The boss squinted at the boy lying on the ground. He noticed there was no blood.
The boss turned to Bitts, who had dropped his gun, blood flowing from his arm and pooling on the ground.
Suddenly, the boy stood up, dusting himself off. "Nah, I'm just exhausted."
The townspeople and the boss stared, mouths agape, astonished by what the boy had just done.
As the boy stood, Bitts also knelt.
"What are you doing?" Bitts asked, bewildered.
"What?" the boy replied.
"Why did you shoot me in the arm again instead of the head? Do you disrespect me? In a duel, when one man dies, that's not a defeat; it's an honor given to you by your opponent. You didn't give me that, you little punk. Are you looking down on me? You spared my life just like you did with my men by shooting them in safer areas instead of the head or heart. Are you showing mercy? Tell me, you bastard!" Bitts shouted angrily, silencing the crowd.
"What's wrong with people like this?" Bitts looked around, confused.
"Dying in battle is honorable. Turning your back in a fight is shameful. Why do you all think this way? The real matter is winning or losing. If you win, that's great; if you lose or turn your back, you must improve. You don't have to die."
The boy walked toward Bitts. "At the end of the day, your family is waiting for you to come home. Don't you want to see them? Don't you want to be happy with them?"
He placed a hand on Bitts's shoulder. "Dying in a useless battle doesn't make you a man. A man does anything for his family. Even if you lose or turn your back in a fight, you're still the man of your beloved family, and you will have their respect. That's all that matters, Mr. Buffalo."
The boy handed Bitts a purse. When Bitts opened it, he found a family photo inside.
"So, you let me live because I have a family?" Bitts asked, his voice trembling.
The boy grew irritated. "You still don't get it. I don't want you to be alone."
Bitts looked shocked. "Why do you care?"
"Because I know how painful it is to be alone. Don't consider this mercy I'm showing you." The boy turned his head toward Bitts. "Consider it a second chance to be happy with your family."
Bitts smiled, realization dawning on him.
The boy turned toward the gang members. "Hey, get up and don't ever come back. If you do, I will kill you. Now get going."
The gang members struggled to mount their horses due to their wounds, but they managed to escape.
"Hey! You guys are turning your backs on me, you disloyal scum!" the boss shouted angrily, but he couldn't move because the townspeople had tied him up tightly.
Bitts rode over to the boy. "Hey, kid, be careful. The eldest brother of the Peter family is coming for you to take his revenge."
"Nah, that's not a big deal. I'm going to kick his ass anyway," the boy replied nonchalantly.
"Okay then, goodbye."
"Hey."
"What, kid?"
"Be happy with your family."
"Geez, why are you so obsessed with my family?" Bitts replied, annoyed.
"Take care," the boy said, waving goodbye.
What's he thinking? He confidently believes he can beat them. He acts like he's some big shot. He seems like a good kid. Oh, I didn't even ask his name, but that's okay. I have a feeling we'll meet again someday, Bitts thought, turning to leave.
"Okay then, I leave the fat pig to you people. You take care of him," he said as he walked away from the area.
The townspeople approached the boss, brandishing metal and wooden sticks.
"Hey, you don't know me! If my brothers find you, you'll all be in trouble—"
Before he could finish, the crowd began beating him, ensuring he paid for his actions.
"Hey, old man! How long have you been here?" the boy asked the bartender.
The old man looked exhausted. "After you left, I chased you all the way here!"
"Why'd you have to run after me?"
The old man placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, tears streaming down his face. "You did it! I can't believe it! Now my town will be happy! How can I repay you?"
The boy smiled and replied, "If you want to repay me, just give me that cocktail you made earlier."
"Okay then, I'll give you the best cocktail in my bar!" the old man wiped his tears away.
"Now let's get on my horse so we can go to the bar."
"Are you okay with that?" the boy asked.
"Of course! Blacky would love it too."
"Blacky? Is that your horse's name?"
"Yeah, it's a cool name, right?"
"Of course, kid."
Both of them headed toward the bar, laughter echoing behind them.
Continue..