Chapter 64: Smith & Wesson M500 (please collect, recommend and vote)

Chapter 64 Smith & Wesson M500 (Please collect, recommend, and vote monthly)

Xu Chuan looked at the governor, oh no, Sheriff Owens walked out of the cafe, wondering if he should remind him that the middle-aged white man who just went out was named Boulier, and he was also a companion of his. His presence here was nothing. Good thing.

Owens watched the two so-called truck drivers get into the car. He sat in the car and wrote down the license plate number of the truck, preparing to go back and find someone to check. These two guys are definitely not good people. This place is close to the Mexican border, and some drug traffickers They often enter the United States from here, although they have never entered the center of the town, but who can say for sure.

In a car repair shop in the north of the town that can only be described as abandoned, a guy wearing a nightgown and goggles, who seems to be in a mental state as good as Modoc, is testing an 8-inch gun. The Smith-Wesson Model 500 revolver with a barrel, of course, should be accurately called a hand cannon due to its power.

Bang, it was definitely a loud noise. Lewis Dinken was shaken by the huge recoil and took a step back. The kinetic energy of the M500 muzzle was greater than that of the Desert Eagle. The whole fan of pork hung under the crane was punched with a big hole, and the meat was minced. Flying everywhere, "It can definitely kill an elephant, man.", Dinken shouted excitedly.

 Two police officers from the small town widened their eyes in surprise. One of them, a young man, ran over excitedly, "It's my turn, it's my turn."

White police officer Jerry Bailey took the M500 and almost dropped the gun on the ground with his thin arms. Dinken reminded him distrustfully, "Be careful of the recoil. This is your first time shooting this."

“Give it to me quickly and just stand aside and watch.”

Dinken took off the noise-cancelling headphones on his head and put them on for him. He and another Mexican police officer stood aside with their ears plugged. Jerry Bailey held the gun with both hands in a standard posture. He aimed at the target and pulled the trigger hard. The trigger, the huge recoil completely deformed his gun-holding action, and the 20-centimeter barrel bounced back. If it hit the face, the bridge of his nose would be broken in two even if it didn't cause a concussion.

It can only be said that his life is good. He stretched out his left hand from the side, grabbed the barrel of the jumping gun and pulled it aside, saving his originally pretty good appearance. "Jerry, believe me, you need to exercise." ." Xu Chuan always thought that this name belonged to a mouse, but after coming here, he discovered that there were Jerrys everywhere.

"Hey, Bell, when did you come back?" Jerry shouted in surprise. Xu Chuan quickly jammed the hammer of the M500 with his right hand with a look of horror on his face. The idiot actually pulled the trigger subconsciously.

 Xu Chuan took the M500 he grabbed and looked at it in his hand. Don't tell me, the workmanship of this thing is really good. When he handed it to Dinken, he had no intention of trying it. He was really not very interested in the revolver. Jerry was being beaten violently by his colleague Mike Figuerola, and the gun that almost went off was pointed directly at his face.

Xu Chuan looked at this dilapidated factory building that had not been renovated very much. There was a sign made of wood on the door, 'Dinken Museum of Firearms and Weapons History', and decided to bring Modoc over next time. The two people must have something in common.

A police car drove over. The two police officers watched nervously as their immediate superior got out of the car and quickly got up from the ground. "OH, SHIT, I thought he was off today." Jerry quickly adjusted his police uniform.

 Mike Figuerola stood aside pretending to be calm, "What's wrong, Ray?"

"Who can tell me what my two men were doing on the ground just now?" Owens looked at several people with a puzzled face, wondering if there was something going on between his two men that went beyond friendship. In the United States, It's a very common thing, but I haven't seen it in public yet.

  Mike Figuerola pointed at Jerry, "This guy almost killed me just now. If it weren't for Bell, you could have dragged me to do the autopsy now."

 Xu Chuan looked at Owens and spread his hands. Owens nodded at him and turned to look at Dinken, "Do you have a gun permit?"

Dinken nervously took out a pile of documents from his pocket and said, "Yes, yes, of course." Owens is a local snake here. Although he usually seems to be a pretty good person, if you really want to punish him, he will definitely suffer.

Owens checked his business license, looked at the dilapidated factory and asked in disbelief, "You built a museum here?"

“Of course, I have the tax bill to prove it. It is open every second Thursday of every month from 12 to 3 o’clock. You are welcome to bring the whole family to visit.” He said and patted Owens on the shoulder.

Owens looked at this idiot and decided not to be acquainted with him. Mike Figuerola came over and said, "Sorry, Ray, we just want to have some fun. Nothing in this town is boring."

He took out the license plate number he just copied and said, "Since you are so bored, go check this license plate number. Those two drivers felt guilty when they saw me. There must be something wrong."

Jerry stretched out his hand and grabbed it, "Leave it to me," then turned and ran away. Mike Figuerola and Xu Chuan said hello and followed. Owens shouted, "If you find anything, tell the state police. "

 Watching the two men drive away, Owens reached out and pulled out the M500 from Dinken's holster, "Before I put you in jail, let me try a shot."

Xu Chuan watched Owens holding a gun with one hand and fired three shots at the pork hanging in front of him. The gun only jumped up slightly, and his jaw almost dropped. He compared it with himself. Although he could control it, he could not control it alone. There is absolutely no way his hands are so steady. Although this old guy is getting older, his ability has not completely deteriorated.

Owens fired a few more shots. After he was satisfied, he was about to get in the car and go back. Xu Chuan thought for a while and walked over. He asked with a smile, "Chief, are you checking the driver just now?" Owens took off his sunglasses and said, Looked at Xu Chuan seriously.

“By coincidence, I have seen a photo of that white man. His name is Boulier and he is a mercenary. He must have about ten people under his command.” Colleagues are always enemies, and you must use any means to attack your competitors.

 (End of this chapter)