[Part1·Loss-making business]

Mr. Wen used all his strength to tilt his head slightly, trying to let his [chin], which had evolved over millions of years, slowly open.

Turn your head, move your spine, stick out your tongue, and lick the source of life.

"Mr. Wen? Vincent?" The cowboy saw the work badge on Mr. Wen's chest and also saw Mr. Wen's name.

In the west, Chinese workers had no human rights.

But Chinese workers with names and surnames, with English-translated names, and Chinese workers who understand English must be rich.

After the gunshots, many wild wolves had raised their heads.

Forced by high temperatures, they gradually become restless, swinging back and forth between hunger and survival anxiety.

They stared at the cowboy and the prey at the cowboy's feet, while they salivated over the little red horse behind the cowboy.

Little Dolly swung her tail and breathed heavily from her nose.

Jack was about to untie his belt and open the gate to release the water——

"——Oh! Sticking out your tongue? Vincent! You are such a greedy little cat!~"

This kid is gradually adapting to violence and using violence.

"But you have to pay the bill first! How about changing the wine? Come and try Jack's fresh wine?!"

The train is getting closer and closer.

Before his pants were completely unbuttoned, Jack suddenly became dejected. He tied his belt again, gritted his teeth and stomped his feet! He was almost driven mad by his stupid behavior!

He can't do it!

He can't...

"Okay! Okay!"

Little Jack pretended to be relaxed, looking at the distant fields for a while and the red boulders at the mouth of the valley.

Finally, he moved his gaze to his feet and stared at this living dead of unknown origin.

"I intend to save your life, yes."

"Okay!~That's it! I'm a noble! I'm still a noble!"

Grabbing the collar of the living dead man and slapping the kettle into Mr. Wen's mouth, Jack took Wen Bucai away from the railway track and started nagging again.

"If you can't pay me, I can only waste five cents of bullet money."

"First make a hole in your head, scratch your face, and then sell you to the state government as an Indian."

"Yes, that's what the Warrant Officer said. We can't be in a losing business, brother."

Wen Bucai swallowed the water in big gulps, even if it entered his lungs, a maddening itch came from his chest.

His eyes gradually became bright, and strength emerged from his limbs. He took away the cowboy's water bottle and returned to the world.

At this moment, the two Homo sapiens had completely stood up, and they were almost close to each other——

——The wolves completely gave up the idea of ​​hunting and hid back in the shady canyon along the thick vegetation.

Seeing Mr. Wen drinking happily, Jack felt like he was hesitant to speak.

The feeling is very subtle to describe, like seeing someone mid-poop and not being bothered.

After Mr. Wen finished drinking the water, he began to clear out the remaining fluid in his lungs and coughed crazily while leaning on the hot rail.

The cowboy finally has some consciousness and needs to calculate the price clearly.

"Vincent, do you have money? I know you translators..."

"Especially the translator from Syracuse..."

"You must be earning more than I am. I came to this damn place from Edinburgh and I haven't seen a complete dollar bill for more than half a year. It's all cents, cents, cents - coins, coins, coins!"

Wen Bucai: "What's your name? What's your name?"

Only then did Jack begin to look squarely at this Oriental man.

He has short black hair and big eyes. He looks about 24 or 25 years old. His muscles have lost their luster, probably due to dehydration caused by being exposed to the sun and wind. Under his bronze skin, his arms have strong texture and he is about 30 feet tall.

He is about 1.8 meters tall and has a little beard.

The cowboy acted as a reply reader.

"I just want one dollar, it's really not much..."

Mr. Wen also acted as a reply reader: "What's your name? Sheriff?"

It was also at this moment that Jack Martin had murderous intentions.

He calculated how much money he could make from this business, but this Chinese worker perfectly explained the true meaning of the difficulty of communication between different races.

You say yours, I say mine - even wild beasts cannot understand human speech, so they want to be sent to the wall as an exhibit.

A yellow man who doesn't understand human language can't even earn back the five cents he spent on bullets.

A dead redskin Indian can be exchanged for eight dollars' worth of knives.

He could ask Uncle Bayan for some red mud paint, dye the yellow man's skin red, and then use it to replace the Indians. This is a good business.

With these evil thoughts running rampant in his mind, he suppressed his anger and finally turned back into a polite gentleman - because his ancestor was a gun-making lord and he had to stay elegant.

In the West, people die every day, from various reasons. The little cowboy prepares himself mentally for this.

Before killing the other party, you must state your name. Regardless of whether you are an Easterner or a Westerner, you must abide by this rule. This is a sacred ritual and cannot be skipped casually.

So the little cowboy said it innocently.

"Remember the cause of your death, Vincent."

"The person who killed you is me, Jack Ma..."

"Okay, Jack Ma." Mr. Wen interrupted.

Without even taking out his gun, Jack almost went crazy——

"——We can't communicate in English? How about switching to Chinese?! Can you really understand me? Can you only speak? Can't listen? Hello?"

Wen Bucai: "Thank you."

Jack awkwardly spoke out the next sentence in Chinese. He knew these three sentences in Chinese.

"I love you?"

Wen Bucai nodded: "Really, really, thank you very much."

The other party's casual attitude made little Jack feel very bad. He was half crazy and wanted to shoot Mr. Wen with a gun.

But when he reached for his gun bag, the young police sergeant lost his gun.

Mr. Wen inserted the revolver into his belt and threw the kettle back. He said to little Jack: "Jack, you saved my life. I will remember this kindness."

Little Jack once again fell into the dilemma of being hesitant to speak. He felt something was wrong, but he couldn't say it.

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! The feeling is very subtle. If you want to use a wonderful metaphor to describe it, it is like when milking a cow, his little Jack squeezed out a large bucket of milk.

, when I took it to change money for Uncle Bayan, I found that I was squeezing a bull.

Mr. Wen glanced at the pony behind little Jack from time to time.

Little Jack didn't know what to do for a while. It could be seen that he was still very young, a romantic and innocent person.

Vincent: "I think..."

Jack: "No! Give me the gun back! That's mine!"

Vincent: "I need a horse."

Jack: "It doesn't work. Dolly is my baby too."

Vincent: "It can, it can run really well. I remember Sanyang Town is twenty miles away from here, and it doesn't even sweat much."

Jack: "Vincent, you accepted my favor, stole my gun, and also borrowed my horse?"

Vincent: "Your horse is gone."

Jack rushed forward fiercely, but the barrel of the gun was blocked halfway.

The Colt that originally belonged to him was burned hot by the sun. Now he was holding it in Vincent's hand, and the shiny silver gun body looked so dazzling.

Jack yelled, but he refused to lose his gentlemanly demeanor and did not use curse words when he cursed.

"You shameless and despicable thief! A deformed and crazy robber! You can't escape the punishment of the law!"

"Vincent! I remember your name! I also remember your job number!"

"I will report you to Pacific Railroad!"

"You are going to be wanted! A bunch of bounty hunters will come to catch you soon! Are you scared? Ha!"

Little Jack spoke slower and slower——

——Because he saw that Vincent remained silent and his eyes became colder and colder.
To be continued...