Chapter 348: The Distillery
Sure enough, the cowboy immediately changed his tune: "Save that for a three-year-old! Now get down on your knees and tell me who you're working for!"
Merlin released his hand from the barrel and was about to explain, but as the liquor spilled out, the cowboy seemed even angrier, spitting out his chewing gum like a bullet, which landed right on the hole in the barrel: "This is 1963 vintage! If this was business before, now it's personal!"
Before Ron could move, Eggsy and Merlin exchanged a glance and immediately attacked the cowboy with their fists raised.
However, it turned out that the British guys' fighting skills were still lacking. Merlin's fist had just reached the cowboy's face when he dodged it with a sidestep, immediately hitting Merlin on the back with the butt of his gun, while Eggsy's fist was just about to strike.
The reason he moved one step slower than Merlin was because the kid drew his gun in a very clumsy manner, but it was still useless. The shotgun that had just knocked Merlin down swung upward, blocking the hand holding the gun. Then the cowboy used the gun like a club, and Eggsy let go, dropping his pistol. The cowboy gave Eggsy another hard swing and threw him onto the barrel. One arm was firmly pressed against Eggsy's back, and the other hand pressed Eggsy's spy watch several times, then pushed his hand back.
"Zap!" With a sound, Eggsy was shocked to the ground, and Ron showed an amused smile. The cowboy could actually use the special equipment of the Kingsman agents. It seemed they really were family.
However, such a group of British agents had been operating in the United States for so long without being discovered by any intelligence agency. It seemed the US intelligence agencies were really slipping.
Of course, this didn't include Ron. Compared to ordinary agents who spent their days gathering intelligence, Ron was more like a problem solver. Besides, he mainly focused on collecting taxes, so intelligence failures couldn't really be blamed on him.
"Clap clap clap~" Ron raised his hands and clapped: "Beautiful fighting skills, with some traces of Filipino martial arts. Where'd you learn that?"
"That's none of your business! Pretty boy!" The cowboy kicked Eggsy aside, his aggressive gaze sweeping over Ron: "Now that your two buddies are taken care of, what are you going to do? Texan, are you going to get down on your knees and surrender like I said?"
"I choose option three, which is to make you kneel down and listen to me." Before Ron finished speaking, he had already charged at the cowboy. His swift movements made it clear he was no ordinary person. The cowboy immediately turned the gun he hadn't fired yet toward Ron. But as soon as he turned the gun, Ron seemed to have springs in his legs, appearing in front of him in an instant and grabbing the barrel upward.
"Bang!" The shot went into the ceiling. The two men locked eyes and almost simultaneously pulled their guns to their sides.
The difference was that the cowboy used brute force to pull back, while Ron, after pulling with brute force, suddenly changed his grip, using the cowboy's own momentum to drive the stock hard into his chest.
"Ah!" the cowboy cried out in pain. The combined force of the two almost broke his ribs. Just as he screamed, Ron, taking advantage of the successful strike, stepped forward and delivered a powerful knee strike.
The cowboy gasped and fell to the ground, knocked unconscious from the pain.
"Tch, not much of a challenge~" Ron dusted off his hands and shouted into the empty cellar, "Had enough? If not, how about sending out another rookie to entertain me? Hell, this time I'll take on ten!"
Unfortunately, there was no response from the empty cellar.
Ron scoffed. He didn't believe there weren't any cameras here. Merlin's radar images clearly showed a massive facility beneath this room, meaning the entrance must be somewhere in this wine cellar. There was no way such an important place wouldn't have surveillance.
In fact, he strongly suspected the cowboy who had just passed out had come after watching the security feed. But staying quiet wasn't a problem; Ron had plenty of ways to handle it.
"You know how to test a good bottle of whiskey?" Ron dragged the cowboy to the leaky hole, letting the precious liquor spill over him as he loudly proclaimed to himself.
He was sure whoever was hiding behind the monitors could hear him: "Pirates in the Age of Sail would pour a little gunpowder on it to test the proof of a bottle. If the gunpowder could still ignite, it meant it was strong enough."
With that, Ron pulled out a bullet, twisted it hard, and the bullet tip came off. Ron grinned mischievously and sprinkled the gunpowder from the bullet onto the cowboy's whiskey-soaked face.
"I bet his screams will be something else when I set this guy's face on fire!"
With a "click," Ron flicked his lighter, and a flame burst forth.
"Stop!" A pleasant female voice rang out, and a Black woman in a professional suit and black-rimmed glasses emerged from behind the large barrel. "Alright, you win. What do you want in return for letting him go?"
"No, no, no, I think you've got one thing wrong, ma'am," Ron said, satisfied that someone had finally come forward. "From the beginning, I had no intention of hurting anyone. It was your buddy who immediately assumed we were intruders and started threatening us. Actually, my other two companions are with you. They're all elite agents, except they're from the British headquarters."
"Is that so?" The Black woman bit her lip. "Alright, I'll buy that you're elite agents from Britain, but what proof do you have?"
"No, you're wrong again," Ron wagged his finger. "I already said, the two unconscious guys on the ground are your people, and I'm just a good Samaritan from Texas helping them get home."
"Alright, good Samaritan from Texas, what proof do you have?" The woman clenched her fists. If she could, she really wanted to punch Ron in the face, but reason told her it was impossible.
Even with her gut instinct, she felt she had no chance of winning even with a gun; her companion lying on the ground was proof enough—that guy was way stronger than her. So she simply came out unarmed.
Ron cupped his hands and caught more whiskey, pouring it into his mouth, his eyes narrowing in pleasure. "My companions will give you the proof, but before they do, didn't your mama teach you to invite your guests in first? If you could, could you get me a glass? Drinking such fine whiskey with your hands is kind of a waste."
"Follow me." The woman thought for a moment and finally agreed.
(End of Chapter)
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