The thug, holding a dilapidated muzzle-loader, roared and raised his gun, directly pulling the trigger.
Bang!!
As the muffled gunshot rang out, Duke had already vanished from his original spot.
And this gunshot also attracted the attention of a certain traveler who had just returned home.
Smoke still curled from the gun barrel, but the thug had lost sight of Duke. Taking a step forward, he looked left and right, searching for any trace of the big fat sheep.
They had been eyeing him ever since Duke came ashore.
Hand-tanned sharkskin boots, a top woven from fine Freljord wool, a windbreaker and trousers made from Ionia fabric—any single item on this kid, even if sold secondhand on the black market, would fetch dozens of Golden Krakens.
Moreover, the other party had been incredibly generous with his spending, solidifying their idea of slaughtering a fat sheep.
But the moment they made their move, they lost all trace of him.
Is it haunted?
"I'm over here!"
A playful voice came from behind everyone. The thug with the muzzle-loader nervously turned around, noticing that the other party was standing a few meters behind them, hands in his pockets.
"How did he get over there?"
"This guy is a bit off!"
"So what? Think about how many Golden Krakens he's worth!"
"Every day in Bilgewater, people get killed, and people strike it rich. Why can't the next one to strike it rich be us, and the one to die be him?"
"Everyone, attack! The first one to take him down gets half the loot!"
The shout from the thug holding the muzzle-loader made everyone's eyes light up, and they immediately cast all doubts aside.
"I got the Gunblade Tactics before, but because of its immense lethality, I didn't dare test it on anyone in Piltover. Now, I finally have a chance!"
Duke's right leg slid forward, his left foot seemingly nailed to the ground. His figure blurred suddenly and vanished from his original spot.
Gunblade Tactics—Sliding Step!
Sliding across the ground, Duke appeared the next second in front of the thug who was charging at the very front. His right hand clenched into a fist and swung forward rapidly. Under his excellent reflexes, everything about the opponent was taken in by Duke's eyes.
Including the swinging machete, and including the rotten teeth in the opponent's mouth.
Bang!!
A sonic boom, like a gunshot, exploded. The arm of the thug in front of Duke, along with his weapon, shattered into pieces. As the fist, enveloped in powerful airflow, pushed everything aside, Duke also quickly retracted his arm, bent his elbow, and threw another punch.
Bang!!
The gun-like air explosion sounded again, and the second thug had his chest pierced through by his punch.
It was as if he had been hit head-on by a flintlock.
Gunblade Tactics—Flintlock!
In the blink of an eye, Duke, who had killed two people with his fists, was about to stop his attack when the weapons of those around him were already slashing towards him.
Duke tucked his hands into his waist and abdomen, then rapidly threw out his fists, creating streaks of afterimages.
Gunblade Tactics—Machine Gun Barrage!
Anyone caught within the range of his fists' assault was like being directly hit by machine gun fire, all turning into mangled piles of minced meat.
In the blink of an eye, of the dozen or so thugs, only the leader holding a muzzle-loading gun remained.
Duke glanced at the scattered pieces of flesh on the ground, then at his own unbloodied fists.
"What a terrifying fighting style! To weave the operational method of a gun firing bullets into a fighting style, the person who created this set of fighting styles is simply a deranged war maniac!"
"This kind of fighting style is probably a killing technique specifically for the battlefield!"
The thug, holding a muzzle-loading gun and trembling like a sieve, stood rooted to the spot, not daring to move.
Duke glanced at him: "I've killed enough people today.
If you drop your weapon and jump into the Water to swim away, I won't touch you!"
"But the Water is full of Razor-fish…"
Noticing Duke's dangerous gaze, the thug shrieked, dropped the muzzle-loading gun, and plunged headfirst into the Water.
Entering the Water might mean being bitten to death by Razor-fish, but there was still a chance of escape.
However, on the shore, he would definitely be blasted to death!
Watching the splash made by the other party, Duke rolled his eyes 273 times, pulled down his rolled-up sleeves, and disdainfully walked around the mangled, bloody flesh he had created.
Although he knew this fighting style had immense destructive power, he hadn't expected its first use to bring him such a huge surprise.
And despite such a large commotion happening here, the people around merely glanced indifferently before averting their gaze and leaving on their own.
Some even waited for Duke to leave to pick up some scraps.
"What a chaotic place!"
Duke mumbled a couple of sentences, then turned around to see a bearded man with a cigar in his mouth, holding a powerful double-barreled shotgun, standing not far from him.
The moment he saw the other party, Duke playfully stroked his chin.
Good luck, he ran into a certain cheater's partner!
However, judging by the other party's stance, he seemed to be looking for trouble.
"Hey, relax!"
Graves, with a cigar in his mouth, held his gun barrel downwards, a harmless smile on his face, but combined with his fierce expression, it truly didn't look sincere.
"Are you planning to take advantage, playing the trick of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind?"
"How could that be!"
After witnessing the scene where Duke used the machine gun barrage to blast those thugs, the hopeful thoughts in Graves' mind were extinguished.
He hugged his Destiny and revealed a smile.
"I'm here to fish with explosives!"
Duke glanced at Graves' double-barreled shotgun, Destiny, which he cherished like a treasure, and curled his lip: "Indeed, such a trashy toy has no other use besides fishing with explosives!"
Graves' eyes darkened, and he bit down on the cigar in the corner of his mouth, taking a deep puff.
You can insult him, insult his origins, insult his evil deeds, insult his friend Twisted Fate, even calling Twisted Fate a son of a bitch doesn't matter.
But you cannot insult his weapon, insult his Destiny!
This was his only pride!
"Take that back."
Graves raised his double-barreled shotgun, its muzzle pointed directly at Duke.Exhaling a plume
of indigo smoke, he spoke in a low voice, "Kid, I advise you to take that back!".
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