CHAPTER 54: CHAPTER 54: THE POWER OF EXTRAORDINARY EQUIPMENT_1

Laosan, who had been enduring in silence, scrambled to his feet and began to serpentine forward. It looked like he was about to clear the last stretch and dart into the dense forest!

However, just at that moment, a sudden noise came from behind. He didn’t even dare to look back, but the next second, a BANG shattered his last hope.

Laosan was thrown forward as if struck by a heavy blow, tumbling across the ground and rolling continuously before finally stopping at the edge of the dense forest.

Don’t stop...

But soon Laosan realized he wasn’t dead; the shot hadn’t been aimed at him!

Realizing this, he scrambled to crawl into the forest, but then a chill ran down his neck as a ghostly voice drifted to his ears.

"Brother San, why the rush?"

This familiar voice made Laosan come to his senses. As he turned around, he saw Dismas—who supposedly had been the first one shot—standing unharmed behind him, a Short Sword pointed at him.

This...

"You’re a Barbarian," Laosan realized, his face instantly darkening with rage.

Dismas remained silent, but his expression was quite smug. He had endured no small amount of their scorn and mockery on the journey, so watching Laosan’s expression shift so dramatically was quite satisfying.

Hidden in the dense forest, Lance finally finished his ’roll call,’ sniping all the remaining elite bandits.

Only then did he lower the long gun in his hand. Next to him lay two more long guns and three pistols, while Balistan and Reynard flanked him, helping to reload.

This was how Lance alone could lay down such suppressive firepower.

Besides his skill with Crossbow Arrows, Lance had also diligently practiced gunnery. The Flintlock Guns of this era were different from modern firearms with fixed ammunition; accuracy depended on the gun itself, the quantity of gunpowder, and the specific ammunition loaded.

Even a Sharpshooter like Dismas needed time to adapt to a new firearm to perform at his best.

In other words, it relied on experience, feel, and the smile of the Goddess of Fortune.

Lance was well aware that his own skills were merely adequate. If Dismas had been the one shooting, no one would have merely been wounded in the limbs, let alone escaped.

The gap in experience and feel—qualities that took time to accumulate—couldn’t be quickly bridged even by the most extraordinary talent for learning.

His success today wasn’t just because he aimed for the torso instead of trying for flashy shots; of course, there was a deeper reason...

Lightly caressing the Family Crest Ring on his index finger, Lance knew that without the sensory enhancement this piece of Extraordinary Equipment provided, he couldn’t have completed the task so easily.

No wonder those people so frantically pursued Extraordinary items.

A lifetime of training couldn’t compare to the boost from a single piece of Extraordinary Equipment.

The trio gathered their equipment and rendezvoused with Dismas. Only then did Laosan see the three strange individuals.

One was a One-eyed old man wearing an old-style Non-commissioned Officer’s armor of the Empire’s army, its surface covered in countless battle scars.

Another was a Church Knight, shouldering a Knight’s Longsword, fully clad in Knight’s Heavy Armor with a tabard bearing the Church’s emblem.

The last one wore a full-face helmet and carried a large backpack with a shovel handle sticking out. Two long guns were slung on his sides, presenting an utterly bizarre sight.

But Dismas’s subsequent attitude towards Lance was even more baffling to Laosan.

"My Lord, this is the third-in-command of the artillery regiment. How should we deal with him?"

"Your gun." Lance handed Dismas his original firearm and glanced at Laosan.

"Where are your men? Show yourselves!" Laosan demanded, still carrying an air of arrogance despite being a captive.

"What men? It’s just us," Lance replied, as if stating the obvious.

"Impossible... Impossible! How could just three of you be a match for our elites?" Laosan exclaimed in shock, looking around as if searching for signs of a larger force.

"Hah! Elites, my ass! I’m the one who took down your so-called elites," Lance sneered, his disdain unconcealed.

"You’re lying! There must be many others ambushed around here! You’re deceiving me!"

Laosan suddenly became agitated. Unacceptable! He couldn’t accept that the ones who had annihilated two of his elite squads were merely these three individuals.

"Behave yourself."

Dismas, however, had no intention of indulging him and landed a solid punch, as if to see if that would stop his frenzy.

Lance checked him over. Laosan hadn’t died because he was wearing two layers of armor: a good quality breastplate on the outside, and Chain Mail underneath. The clothing between them had acted as a buffer, so he wasn’t severely injured.

It seemed Laosan had initially intended to feign death, but when he saw Lance preparing to fire a follow-up shot, he had quickly tried to flee.

After confirming he carried no weapons, they tied him up. Lance then signaled to Dismas.

"We can’t stay here long. You take him and leave first. We’ll pack up and follow shortly."

Dismas led Laosan away under guard. Meanwhile, Lance quickly offered the eight corpses as a Sacrifice, then gathered their equipment.

Eight long guns, three pistols, along with various other weapons, armor, and scattered Coins.

None of the bandits they had fought before had yielded such a haul. Truly, tackling tough opponents was the only way to get a good meal.

There was a substantial amount of loot, almost too much for three people to carry. They took what they could, leaving the site in disarray.

They found another location to rest. Lance packed all the items, including the long guns he had been carrying, into the coffin for safekeeping, planning to retrieve them later.

Meanwhile, Laosan was using a shovel to fill back the hole they had presumably made him dig.

However, the three pistols were kept. Suddenly, Lance found himself like an Elder of the Beggars’ Sect, with more pistols than he knew where to put, so he gave one more to Dismas.

"Things were going well. Those guys were about to take the bait, but..."

Dismas recounted his meeting with the captain. When he mentioned the woman, Lance found it strange.

"What kind of place is this? How could a woman as seductive as you describe exist here?"

"You’ll understand when you see her, My Lord," Dismas chuckled knowingly, his implication clear.

"Alright, get to the point," Lance cut in, not interested in humoring him. What kind of women hadn’t he seen? Right now, dealing with these bandits was the priority; he wouldn’t sleep well until they were eliminated.

"Afterward, I had no choice but to try and leave to pass on intelligence. But they watched me too closely and gave me no opportunity. Fortunately, I noticed the signal you left, My Lord. I didn’t expect you to take action so directly."

"When I saw you being escorted by two men, I knew the plan had gone awry. For safety’s sake, rescuing you was the priority. So, when I saw you leading them back towards their camp, I had already made arrangements." Lance patted Dismas’s shoulder. "I would never abandon you. We were always nearby."

Dismas was touched by these words, but then anxiety crept in as he recalled that some of the bandits had escaped when his Lord attacked them to save him.

"My Lord, that second-in-command escaped. Will it affect our plans?"

"I let him go intentionally. If no one informs the artillery regiment, how would they know to act?" Lance replied with a faint smile, exuding the confidence of a master strategist.