This carriage was filled with fear and despair of death.
Amid the passengers' low sobs, they were forced to follow the robbers' instructions, bending over one by one to step forward and place all their valuables into the spot designated by them.
"Tch, poor bastard."
The pitch-black muzzle of a gun pointed at the head of the trembling passenger standing before the box.
The robber who spoke wore a gloomy expression as he stared at the poor man. After rummaging through every pocket on his body, he only found a few one-hundred Jenny bills. His eyes were cold to the extreme, his fingertip slowly tightening on the trigger—
"Sorn."
The bandit leader spoke coldly.
He interrupted the robber named Sorn, stared at him for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.
"Yeah~ yeah!"
Sorn sighed helplessly and stopped.
He snorted with a laugh and cursed at the passenger trembling like a sieve in front of him:
"Get lost, you poor bastard. You're lucky—you get to live a little longer~ Hahahahaha!"
His words made Kisho's fists clench tightly in an instant.
"Sorn!" The bandit leader interrupted again in a cold voice.
Sorn shrugged indifferently. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Boss, don't be mad."
Kisho: "..."
So the things they had said earlier were merely to reduce the possibility of resistance from some of the passengers.
They had deliberately used the excuse of "hand over the money and you won't be killed," letting these passengers cling to a fluke mentality so they wouldn't think of fighting back with their lives on the line.
But from what Sorn had just said, what they would do after taking all the passengers' belongings was already obvious.
Kisho ground his teeth silently. "These scumbags!"
He wasn't the only one who caught the implication in the robber's words.
The weight of despair pressed even heavier upon the people in the carriage.
Suddenly, a young man sprang to his feet and, as if breaking down, shouted as he rushed toward the wide-open carriage door—
"Bang bang bang bang—"
The machine gun spat out a string of flames.
Bullets pierced through flesh and skull.
The young man's body went limp and collapsed, the back of his head striking the corner of the table behind him.
The shattered skull, white brain matter mixed with crimson blood, splattered everywhere.
The passenger seated at that table stared wide-eyed at the scene, screaming again and again.
"What a pity." The bandit leader sighed as if in regret.
He raised a hand in signal, and the gunfire immediately ceased.
His voice was as cold as a demon crawling up from hell, the malice in his words no longer concealed:
"I'll repeat myself. Everyone, if you sit in your seats and don't move around, you might live a little longer."
Kisho's eyes locked onto the bandit leader.
What should he do…
Five robbers. Two stood at the front of the carriage, one on the left and one on the right. Two stood in the center, one ahead and one behind.
And the leader stood by the door they had boarded through.
Their positions were too spread out, with tables and chairs in the way.
Even with badge reinforcement, he couldn't take them all down within a second—yet a single second would be enough for them to react and start shooting.
Nen pressure—no, that wouldn't work either. He hadn't trained to the point where he could make his Nen pressure bypass the passengers and precisely target five scattered individuals.
Kisho clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.
If he wanted to subdue these robbers while preserving the lives of all the remaining passengers, relying on himself alone would be too difficult.
At that moment, he sensed someone approaching from behind.
Kisho suddenly turned his head. When he saw who it was, surprise flashed in his eyes.
Truthfully, he hadn't held any hope that someone would come to help him.
—More than three minutes had passed since the gunshots rang out, yet from the carriage behind, not a single examinee had come to assist.
After all, the robbers had guns. And these people taking the Hunter Exam—no, these prospective examinees—were just ordinary people.
Even so, Kisho had felt a faint trace of disappointment.
So when he saw the person quietly moving toward him, he froze for a moment.
His overly plump build did not hinder his movements in the slightest. Tasber silently made his way to Kisho's side, gave him a slight nod, his gaze stern yet resolute.
...
The carriage where Amos was.
"Gunshots…"
A heavy emotion gathered in Amos's eyes. He slowly stood and looked again at C·L.
"Excuse me. Move aside."
C·L remained unmoving.
"You don't seem like the type to meddle in that sort of thing."
"No choice." Amos fell silent for a moment before replying, "Quite a few people boarded up front. That kid will be holding back. He can't handle it alone."
Hearing Amos's words, C·L finally shifted his gaze away from his book and looked at him.
After a while, he slowly stood and moved half a step aside.
Amos quickly slipped out of the seat. Out of C·L's sight, he rolled his eyes.
"More importantly, I can use this as an excuse to get the hell away from you!"
...
Amos also slipped into the previous carriage and hid on the other side of the seatbacks where Kisho and the others were concealed, masking his presence as well.
The moment Kisho saw Amos, a smile appeared on his face.
Amos, however, shot him a fierce glare, then lifted his head to survey the robbers' positions.
The robber standing by the box kicked a passenger who was trembling as he walked back, knocking him to the ground. Watching his miserable state, he burst into laughter before speaking viciously:
"Let's see, who's next?"
The robbery had progressed to the middle of the carriage.
Sorn spoke boredly, "Hey, boss, this is too slow. How about we do it table by table? There are plenty more people waiting for us to pay a visit."
The bandit leader gave a slight nod.
"Hey, you all heard that. Table by table. If even one person dares to hide something, everyone at that table dies~~ oh~~"
His words undoubtedly hastened Death's footsteps once more.
Kisho took a nearly imperceptible breath.
If it truly came down to it, he would have no choice but to sacrifice some passengers to save the others.
At that moment, Tasber gently patted Kisho's shoulder and pointed toward the table in front of them.
Kisho instantly understood—sit at that table, disguise themselves as passengers. That way, they could approach the two robbers at the front without drawing suspicion.
As for the remaining two—
He turned to look at Amos. Amos had been watching this side the whole time and almost the instant Kisho looked at him, he gave a slight nod.
After thinking for a moment, Amos took a card out of his pocket and waved it at Kisho.
—It was the card that could treat Kisho as a summoned beast and call him out to be used for five minutes.
Kisho nodded, then frowned slightly.
He looked at Tasber, hesitation in his expression.
Tasber was just an ordinary person.
But the enemies they were about to face were armed with guns—true desperadoes in every sense.
Seeing Kisho's expression, Tasber smiled faintly.
His chubby face was filled with determination.
He slowly opened his hand toward Kisho, showing him what he held.
Kisho lowered his gaze.
In Tasber's hand lay a bright, gleaming medal engraved with the words "Second-Class Merit."
He stared blankly at the fat man.
Under his gaze, Tasber showed an embarrassed expression, then slowly gave a thumbs-up pointing at himself.
His lips moved toward Kisho:
"Even if I didn't manage to graduate, I still consider myself a real police officer."
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
+100 chapters and support me on Patreon(.)com/Jixo