chapter 17

"We're sorry. please forgive us."

Looking at the sight of these so-called stone-cold killers and outlaws banging their heads on the floor in a display of dogeza so practiced and refined that it would make any Japanese salaryman proud. I couldn't help it anymore and cracked up in a fit of laughter that made my synthetic lungs hurt.

Wilson, however, didn't seem to share my amusement as his eyes twitched in irritation. Wilson was obviously very disappointed at the fact that he would not get to tear them new ones.

"Alright, since you seem to realize what kind of situation you're in, it would make things very easy," I said and put a hand over Wilson's shoulder. Who was looking at them with bloodshot eyes as if waiting for them to object or say the wrong thing, so he could proceed to beat the living shit out of them?

"You see, I and my big friend here, we have some questions about your boss and base of operations," I said while making eye contact with them every one of them and then locked eyes with the guy who seemed to be in charge.

Seeing all nod without any hesitation, I continued once more.

"Now, we'll start nice and simple. what is the name of the person you work for?" I asked as I casually put a cigarette in my mouth.

"W-we work for Sam Bass. we'll tell you everything you want to know, so please spare our lives," one of them said quickly, seemingly wary of testing Wilson's patience.

"How many members do you have in your gang, and how many are there inside your base right now.?" I asked again while exhaling a small, white puff of smoke.

"There are fifty-three members of us in total, including our boss," one of them said and then took a second to recollect his thoughts before continuing.

"the boss ordered the fifteen of us to cover any remaining tracks. and sent eight more members to the town to sniff for information and news. he also ordered another five members to patrol around the base just in case. there should be no more than twenty-five people remaining in the base right now, including the boss." he said after a short bout of hesitation that he tried and failed to hide from my enhanced vision and senses. But he seemed to tell the truth, so I let it go.

"I see, now here comes the most crucial questions. so you better keep answering as honestly as you have been doing so far. my friend here may lose his temper otherwise," I said, this time with a grave tone of voice as I pointed my index finger in Wilson's direction.

"What kind of connections does your boss have?. does he work with any other gangs, is he working for someone, or is he acting on his own?" I asked while making eye contact, looking for any sign of deception or lies.

"We don't know if the boss is working for anyone in particular, but every two months or so, he takes a bag full of belly and goes to the capital only to come back empty-handed." the big one answered after slightly more hesitation. But he seemed to be truthful, so I let it go again.

'a tribute or a cut of the operations to someone maybe..?' I thought as I took a couple of seconds to organize my thoughts.

"very well, you have been cooperating quite well. and once you answer this last question, you may consider yourselves to no longer be in danger of being crushed to death by the big guy here." I said with a pleasant, reassuring smile on my face.

"y-yes sir, thank you, sir," they all said in one voice as their faces bloomed with hope.

"where is you're base of operations, and what kind of defenses does it have.?" I asked with an encouraging smile.

"We don't know, honest to god. we only joined the gang not long ago, and we usually meet the other members outside of town to receive our orders," the one in charge said with an honest smiling expression. But he seemed to have hesitated for too long this time, and I could smell his lie coming from a mile away.

BANG, the archangel's thundering voice echoed through the desert as smoke came out of its barrel. Suddenly one of the outlaws collapsed in a fetal position groaning in pain as the rest of them watched in horror, alternating their gazes between the collapsed man and the revolver which seemed to have magically appeared in my hand.

"I say, do I look like a fucking bitch to you guys?" I asked with a relaxed, unoffended tone of voice as I blew a breath of air at the archangel's barrel to disperse the smoke.

"N-no sir, we would nev-." they tried to deny quickly, but I cut them off.

"Then why the hell do you want fuck with me?!. you got a death wish or something because I could totally grant it to you if you want," I said this time, my calm expression and tone disappearing, replaced by a sinister, cold one instead as I slowly took aim at the collapsed outlaw and fired my revolver again, ending his suffering.

"now, try answering again, and remember every time you lie, I'm going to put a bullet in one of yall's brains," I said with a smile as I recovered my calm and friendly expression and tone.

It took some effort to press down the discomfort I felt about taking a human life for the first time in such a cold-blooded manner and not showing it on my face.

I was no stranger to death. As a citizen of a third-world country that can be described as a war zone if you were trying to describe it politely, I became very familiar with it as it was simply a fact of life there. But this was still my first time taking life with my own hands, and it was in such a cold-blooded manner, so feeling some discomfort, in this case, is ironically very comforting as it's a reminder that I'm still human despite the strength I had gained but, I digress.

It seems my casual disregard of their life, the maniacal mood swings I had purposefully displayed, or maybe even a mixture of both. It was enough to break any remaining will. They might have had because they started to sing like canaries.