The Red Side is Always Blocking My Dog ​​leash

The first day of training ended up being about firearms because: "You don't want to kill someone with a knife at night, right?" Bourbon said.

Jun A was taken to a shooting gallery, and after Bourbon showed some kind of proof, the staff brought a silver card with an abstract crow printed on it.

With this card, they were able to enter the underground part of the hall, which was a large training ground.

Bourbon threw him a pistol that was a little smaller than other models: "The Browning 9mm pistol has a short bullet, low recoil, and a low muzzle velocity, but it's enough for you."

Mr. A nodded, his hand subconsciously held the handle of the gun when he received the gun, his finger was stuck on the trigger, and when he reacted, the safety had been opened and the chamber was neatly loaded.

what…

The black-haired boy lowered his eyes and set his gaze on Browning in his hands. An imperceptible daze and pain flashed in his eyes. He raised his arm and aimed the muzzle at the distant target.

Why...with a gun?

Mr. A recalled subconsciously, and the empty brain gave a pain response.

He should have been high school graduation age when he died, and his life was very happy. It stands to reason that there should be no reason to touch such a thing as a gun.

Bourbon did not know when he was behind him, only 1.7 meters tall, Mr. A was more than half a head shorter than him. The blond instructor suddenly bowed his head slightly, approached his ear, and whispered, "Aren't you going to shoot?"

A Jun's hand paused indiscernibly because of Bourbon's sudden speech.

He looked back at the distant target, raised the muzzle, and pulled the trigger.

boom!

The recoil made him take a half step back, his shoulders pressed against Bourbon's chest, and the other party's hand rested on Jun A's other shoulder.

"The body is so weak." Bourbon commented, "The posture is great, but the head is completely bad."

It's just that the repair of the body is not completely over yet.

Mr. A moved his sore shoulders and retorted in his heart.

After the explosion, when the body was first put together, it would be short of breath even after walking a few steps, and the skin seemed to be transparent.

However, the skin is pale and the physical strength is slightly weaker.

The average will be restored in another week.

Bourbon smiled and let go of his hand: "Then let's replace today's training with physical exercise, put away the pistol by yourself, don't be found by others, remember to carry it with you."

Jun A looked at him and tilted his head suspiciously: "Tonight?" Don't you want to use a gun? That's why training - I said so before.

Bourbon: "It's okay, just need to be able to shoot tonight, no need for accuracy."

After all, the muzzle of the gun is attached to the temple. In this case, it will not shoot crookedly, right?

He smiled slightly.

If he could, of course he didn't want to see Mr. A kill, but he couldn't.

Rum is looking over here.

Then at least...don't let him face it alone.

When Mr. A came out of the shooting gallery, he almost collapsed.

is the devil! Bourbon is the devil!

He's overloading every muscle now!

A gentleman is like a gossamer: "What am I going to use to complete the task like this?"

"Of course it's a gun," said Bourbon, "but I'm a little surprised that your physical fitness is so poor. After all, it's the first time I've done this kind of thing, and I'm a little bit tough... Well, I'll be with you tonight. Bar."

A Jun: "Huh?"

"Anyway, this mission is just to test your courage, then I will tie them up and you will be responsible for killing people. Even if it is an apology for my mistake." Bourbon said.

—

Mr. Bronk's house is a villa surrounded by trees and beautiful scenery. His neighbor lives a kilometer away.

This means that everything that happens here is hard to spot right away.

Bourbon looked like a handsome college student in a navy blue sweater, jeans and sneakers today.

so relaxing...

Mr. A is still entangled in the fact that he is going to kill someone. Seeing such a Bourbon, he suddenly felt incomparable envy.

So, do you really want to kill...?

The handsome blond guy threw the signal jammer to Mr. A, then put on white gloves, and smiled slightly: "Follow me, don't touch anything, you will leave fingerprints."

"It's very troublesome to be targeted by the FBI."

He was no longer a college student.

Mr. A sighed about the huge influence of temperament on people, nodded to indicate that he understood, and followed Bourbon with the gun in his hand.

No... I still don't want to start.

If such a thing happens in the comics, you will shout handsome, but in reality, you will only call the police.

[System: Then...]

[A gentleman: I only have 100, please be merciful. 】

The system is as good as it is, [then I recommend this to you. The system is hosted for 10 minutes and only needs 100 energy to complete anything you don’t want to handle yourself, whether it’s housework or tasks. 】

This time the props were not introduced directly, but were read out by the system. A-jun narrowed his eyes.

[A gentleman: Does the headquarters allow you to earn extra money in the system? 】

[System: The rules are not marked, but they are allowed by default... Huh? 】

The door of the villa opened silently in Bourbon's hands, and the lively laughter came into his ears.

Mr. A followed Bourbon into the light.

There was only the Bronk family, a total of thirteen people, all gathered in one room to celebrate the birthday of the little princess at home.

Mr. A communicated with the system while observing the layout inside.

[The price of headquarters goods does not come with a whole number. 】 He explained, and continued, 【Then that means, if I complain to the headquarters, will you be judged to be violating the rules? 】

system:…

[Theoretically, this is the case. 】

[A-kun: …You will be bullied for being so honest, System-kun. 】

They followed the sound to an open door, and Mr. A saw the lively scene inside.

On the long dining table are carefully cooked dishes, the five-tiered cake is placed in the middle, and the beautiful girl is stepping on the chair.

With the ending of happybirthdaytoyou, she blew out the candles on the cake.

Warm applause came.

The people inside did not notice the uninvited guests outside the door.

Mr. A stayed outside under Bourbon's signal.

As a flash bomb was thrown, the room fell into chaos. Mr. A lowered his head and leaned against the wall, not looking inside.

[A gentleman: I want to buy system hosting from System gentleman at the price of a little energy per minute. If I don’t agree, I will expose you to the headquarters. 】

【system:…】

[System: Please recite the request silently when hosting, relax your mind so that the system can take over, and the body control will be automatically returned after completion. 】

A-jun raised the corners of his lips, [Thanks. 】

As an intelligence officer, Bourbon is actually not bad in his own right. Not to mention that the target is a group of ordinary people, and there are no weapons in their hands - who would carry a gun at a birthday party?

It was quickly resolved inside.

If it wasn't to stay alive, the speed would be even faster.

Four of the thirteen were elderly, two teenagers, one child, and one infant, and the adults were two couples and a middle-aged man.

They fell to the ground, and Bourbon tied their hands with a rope.

Only Bronk was still awake.

This man who is decisive and mercenary in business is in a mess at the moment.

"Who are you hired to kill me? Let's discuss, I'll pay twice the price to buy my life, no, ten times, let me go, please!"

Bourbon tilted his head and switched to English: "Sounds good? A, what do you think?"

Mr. A's answer was to raise the muzzle.

The requirement is to complete the tasks of the organization and hosting begins.

The system controls the body to open the safety and push the bullet into the barrel.

"No no! You can't do this!" Mr. Bronk shook his body excitedly, avoiding the dark muzzle, "What do you want? I can give you everything I have! Money? Women? My company also gives you! Let go-"

boom!

The black-haired boy watched the man's body collapse indifferently, and a small patch of blood spread from his brain.

The boy lowered his inorganic gray eyes, like a robot executing some kind of program, his pale fingers continuously pulled the trigger.

boom! boom! boom! boom…

Men, women, old people, children.

All temples are pierced.

The quasi-head is a little scary accurate.

Bourbon looked at the figure of the boy with his back to him, and assessed in his heart.

Are you deliberately hiding your clumsiness during morning training?

Or…

click...

When aiming at the last girl, the trigger was pulled but no bullet was fired.

This kind of gun can be loaded with forced rounds at most. I used one round in the morning, so I just have one bullet missing now.

The girl who celebrated her birthday today was wearing a beautiful white dress. She lay silently on the ground, her eyes were closed, and her face was ignorant and blank. Like a fragile rose flower.

The people who celebrated her birthday were all dead, the blood gushing from her body stained her delicate skirt red, and her mother's corpse showed a gesture of wanting to hug her.

The black-haired boy paused and put away the Browning in his hand. Bourbon wanted to give him his gun, and put his hand to his waist, but the boy made a move first.

A hand-length dagger slipped from his sleeve—the same one that Bourbon had given him during his morning practice—into his hand, and then.

puff...

The slight sound of flesh being pierced, the murderer avoided the artery when cutting the trachea, so only a small amount of blood splashed.

The black-haired executioner, holding the blood-splattered blade in his hand, turned around, his inorganic gray eyes facing the smoky purple.

A drop of blood that just splattered at the corner of his eye slid down his cheek, crying like a pity, adding a touch of pity to those ruthless eyes like a program.

The blood almost reached his feet.

request fulfilled.

After the system makes a decision, the program is pulled away, the eyes are closed, and when they are opened again, it is Mr. A.

[System: 1 minute and 13 seconds, less than one minute is calculated as one minute, two points of energy, thank you for your patronage. 】

With his back facing the thirteen corpses, the moment when A Jun regained consciousness, he saw Bourbon's face.

He subconsciously evoked a smile: "Is it okay?"

Bourbon seemed to be stagnant for a moment, and also smiled: "Ah, it's alright, it really surprised me."

"You did very well."

It is because the system gentleman has done a good job.

Mr. A said silently. He hesitated for a while, and finally didn't look back, just lowered his head to check his clothes, and found obvious marks on the trousers and neckline.

Washing after the blood dries was a hassle, and he didn't have anything to change.

Mr. A thought about the future of his streaking, and was a little troubled: "Senior Bourbon, is there any reward for this task?"

Bourbon replied, "Well, it depends on what Rum means."

After all, Mr. A is Rum's direct subordinate.