"Bang!"
"Ah!"
A scream of agony.
"Bang!"
"Ah!"
Another scream of agony.
"Bang!"
"Ah!"
At this moment.
The scream also carried fear, the first and second shots could be understood as accidents, but the following three shots were too bizarre, the pain stimulus made his hand suddenly lift.
Then.
He wanted to put down the gun, but it misfired.
Lifted it again, and it misfired again.
Especially the last time, when the gun fell to the ground due to the pain, it still misfired, feeding him a bullet, five shots, all the bullets inside were gone, he felt utterly desperate.
"Swindler!"
The big black guy was furious!
Just bought it.
Cost him a hundred dollars.
Misfired.
Five times in a row, akin to hitting the jackpot, yet he encountered it; if he had such luck, who would resort to robbery now, five accidents probably exhausted all his lifelong bad luck.
Never would he be unlucky again.
Because.
There's no "after."
