Wolf Barrel 5.56

Dark Elves will never again hold the arrow they unleashed.

It's a word that's been around for a long time.

Dark Elves pay tribute to those who shot him. So I grossly disgust the act of pulling arrows out of corpses and reusing them. It's common sense we do on every battlefield, like reusing arrows. But dark elves make their pride take precedence over such immediate matters.

It's a word used to describe that noble spirit.

- But not now.

The cowardly dark elf escapes from the spot before the arrows arrive.

That's why I can't pick up the arrow I took off, used as a disdain word.

I can't help it either.

Actually, yes.

Our generation has gone through a history of mud and scorn over the pride our ancestors have protected. Because I wouldn't have survived the competition if I hadn't. Respect. What? We're not strong enough to soak up the beauty. That just came out bright.

The era of just guerrilla warfare in the woods is over.

Nor do arrows permeable to iron or steel stand teeth in front of body plates made of misthrilled alloys. We're the first ones to die standing in a nice spot. I'm not as good at magic as an elf, or as wise as a human being. That's why we needed to adapt to this day and age.

Traps, poisons, raids sleep all over the darkness.

It's called ashes, and I'll do any dirty thing flat.

That's us dark elves.

As I approached the rolling corpse, I pulled the arrow stabbed between its brows at once. On the tip, the drooling brain is creeping. Wash it later. I wiped it with the corpse's clothes and behaved like an arrow barrel with a sole that smelled like my nose was about to bend.

Blasphemy for the dead?

If I can retrieve the arrows for free, I'll do as much as I want.

"... ugh"

Then there, I had eyes with a man moaning at my feet.

A soldier in fine armor.

From the look of it, around the man's jaw, it was swollen up like a balloon. It's like a frog. From the half-opened mouth, hiccup and wheezing leak like a gap wind. Probably swollen meat crushing the airway.

It is no longer long to the point of despair.

Despite that, the man was even staring at me from the bottom. This coward and his eyes were cursing.

The laughter spilled all the time.

"You didn't see this skin?" Ask with a mockery.

Of course a man can't answer. I was just in tears of remorse.

Sounds like a good fit for a manure bastard.

I turned my back and went back to retrieving the arrows again.

Eventually the man's bitter breath also stops, and there is silence around.

Only the sound of bugs and the sound of pulling arrows out of the flesh sounded empty.

With force in his hand, there, a certain question turned his head.

How long have I been wiping Yakuza's ass?

From the moment you were born in Dark Elf, you're giving up that this is the only way you can live? That's not true. There are quite a few bow arms polished in the army. If you care about that, you should be able to live as a hunter at any time.

I don't even have to live in people all over discrimination.

I ran away from the army because I was sick of these dirty jobs.

Then why?

Why do you keep living like this?

Why are you carrying your own troubles?

What the hell do I want?

I live now without a clear answer.

I don't know who I am.

Back to the conversation.

In the woods where dark darkness can stand.

Incineration had been ignited there.

The men dressed in light armor surrounded the fire like its flock of fluorescents.

A total of twenty.

These are the fighters from the criminal organization Medio.

When it comes to combatants, it sounds good, but the contents are a gorotsky group that has eaten up. With military experience, I'm hired by the organization as an instructor to take care of this kid.

All these guys call me "brother".

Soon, that's the kind of relationship I had.

Age is centered on the twenties.

And they all had pointy ears on their distinctive gray skin. The Medio family is characterised by the fact that all the constituents are dark elves. I'm a dark elf, too.

The men had their hips down on cold dirt and their mouths full of crude portable food. It's a thin, hard bread like the one I laid on a cow's ass. I'm mixing up with my men, too, and I'm roaming this bread. Nothing is fun to eat. In the creepy tranquility, the sound of spitting and dampening the bread and chewing it a thousand times, the nigga, was echoing all over the place.

There are twenty, and not a single speaker.

Its faces lit by thin fire, all of which had dark shadows falling.

I can't help it either. Because we're in the midst of making a terrible mistake and running back.

We were on an expedition to help an alliance that was in a state of conflict.

That was supposed to happen.

But as soon as I arrived at the scene, I got into trouble, and as a result, I was targeted for my life by an alliance organization that was supposed to protect me. What a dumb story.

I lost eight people by the time I got here. Five died in direct combat. The remaining three got out on the way. You idiot. You have a cracked face, but there's no way they're gonna leave you alone. It's torture to get caught and show off these days. We had no choice but to keep running.

For a while, silently sending bread into your stomach,

"Hey, Bruno. Come on."

They called my name from behind.

What I called you was a man with one hand up a little further away from us.

Serios Medio.

"Eat this too."

I gave food to my men, and I lifted my heavy hips.

Cerios is the eldest son of the Medio family boss.

The look is not so much a young head of the mafia as a young man in the right bureau at the right fold. The lines on my body are thin, and I don't think I'm making the rough stuff work. But if you peek into that eye, you'll change your mind. If you think you were laughing, the next moment, scratch their throats off. I'm pregnant with such madness behind my eyes.

Six months ago.

Celios, in his supper seat, dragged out the bowels of a rebellious whore, laughing.

It was the day he officially decided to partition the boulevard whorehouse. Family executives had shown difficulty until then saying it was "premature," but since that one incident, no one has ever disputed him.

He's a cunning, sadistic man.

Approaching Celios.

Then, before Cerios, the man sitting next to him opened his mouth.

"Come quickly if you're called, you usnoro!

Spitting and eating cuss and yelling high pressure.

This man next to Celios.

His name is Pedro Medio. He's Celios' belly brother.

Only about 14,15. I still have the utmost anger in its face where the blue odor is noticeable. It's like a dog barking while hiding behind its owner's back. Just watching makes me want to crush my skull.

Even more angrily, Pedro was drunk.

Liquor bottle in one hand. And what's poking at me right now is the leg meat of a well-lit lamb. Only the water we pumped in the river and the hard bread. I guess this kid doesn't understand how big a crack the difference in food under these circumstances creates in his relationship of trust with his men. And 'the other' can't stop you, even if you understand. It makes me laugh.

"Can't you hear me, Bruno!

……

Gently flush the gaze you're pointing at.

That attitude seems to have backstroked your nerves.

Pedro raised his blues and fought, throwing the liquor bottle he had onto the ground. The hysterical sound of cracking pottery echoes in the forest of silence. Something gathered my men's gaze.

"Heh heh heh. That attitude! Are you nuts, Cora!

"Pedro, about that..."

Cerios, who was quietly watching, finally tries to stop him.

But it was one tempo slow.

"Oh, my God. Seriously, you know what I mean? Take your place."

As I could hear it around with Waza, Pedro went on like this with his voice up.

"This is happening right now."

"Speaking of which, it's all because of you!

For a second.

I felt on my back that the signs of the men I was stealing from had changed.

Everyone here understands exactly what caused this. And the fact that Pedro, the tenant who created the cause, is trying to manipulate the blame on me. And that Cerios is half silent.

At the edge of his sight, he caught several men standing up.

Shit, Dumb. Something to keep quiet. As I pounded my tongue in my mouth, I repositioned myself to block Pedro from my gaze.

Cerios also rushed in to crack it.

"Pedro, come on."

"But, brother, this guy knocked me out -"

"I'm telling you to stop."

Celios hung on to Pedro, who was still eating.

That hard voice caught Pedro's faint face.

"I'm going to have a meeting with Bruno now. Even with you in it, it's out of the way. Go over there and chill your head."

……

"You didn't hear me?

"... damn! Wow, you should go! Pep."

Pedro spit at my feet, trying to kick the ground and walking away.

I look back, too, and glance at my men.

Then the strained air fogged, and his risen men sat back.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Cerios apologizes, frowning.

"No, babysitting is part of the job."

"Oh well..."

With a little irony, I didn't miss the crack in that look.

When it comes to my brother, I can't seem to stay calm.

- That's hilarious.

I swallowed the words down to my throat with my spit.

Cerios is the only decent person in this toy soldier. Sufficient qualities to carry on the trail. But it has one fatal flaw.

It's too sweet for my brother.

The more unusual that is.

Originally, it makes sense to give the troubled brother to the other organization. If it wasn't for Cerios' own hand, I wouldn't be faceless if I didn't perform about judging my brother Pedro's neck. That's how the idiot did it.

But Cerios refuses to do any of them, knowing he can't wipe mud on the name of the tissue, and thus escapes.

It's not an act of thought.

It's just because my brother is cute.

Me and my men who are attached to it are not accumulated.

... Can't you even think about it?

Priority should be given to how we can cut through now.

I switched my head and checked with Celios about my future escape route.

It's good to have been able to sneak into this cannibal, albeit by chance, as we continue to flee the rugged mountains. Thanks to you, I was able to catch up.

But getting out of this country is another struggle.

If even the Cannibal National Army Border Guard finds us, it's the end of a roll. Forced attempts to cross the border are nothing but suicide.

But in this number, there are limits to lurking.

It's only a matter of time before they find us.

I can't go back the way I came.

It seemed like an octagonal plug, but luck still didn't let us go.

We were able to have accidental contact with criminal organizations that had traded in stolen goods in the past, and as a result of the negotiations, we were able to secure the means to escape the country.

... No, we haven't had a deal yet.

It leaves one problem.

I have to take care of that now.

On top of the babysitter, he wipes his ass.

It's a bad role to make.

When I checked my watch, I noticed that it was almost time for my appointment.

"Let me take turns and get some sleep. We'll leave as soon as we get back."

Tell him short, I got up.

"... I'm sorry," Cerios said of his apology with a sinking face. "I'm so sorry I forced you guys to do this. I'll make sure to make this up to you later. I'll be responsible for explaining what happened over there. I swear by this name, I promise. But now, Bruno, enjoy. Please."

"Excuse me."

Leaving words without emotion, I left the place behind.

And after I was far enough away, I shrugged one small person.

Responsible, huh?

Heh.

You're a surprisingly lousy man in the play.

Away from Cerios, I did not return to my men, but began to prepare for battle alone.

Pull out the knife, examine the condition, and then return to the sheath of the hips.

Weigh the bow to make it bigger, string it up quickly.

Keep the naked light armor adjusted for body discrepancies as well. This armor is not as cheap as my men are wearing, it is quite what was paid for as a soldier.

Apply paint for the camouflage on a fine surface that was not incapable of dictating a woman. Because of the heavy labor of the day after day, the orbits were twitched, the cheeks were sprinkled, and it could be done. It was horrible like a reaper.

Finally, confirm the 'planting' that you left to sneak on your left hand.

And then, when the big men were ready...

"Whoa, is it time to leave?

A man approached his bosom.

He's a big man. He is more than 2 m tall and has a considerable lateral width.

I work out pretty good too, but I get inferior when I put this guy in front of me.

The man's name is Lau. He's my partner.

I've known this guy since he was a soldier, and it's been a long time.

Lau, like me, is employed by the organization. In his case, he's a killer.

A disappointing jaw. Thick eyebrows. Stunning glances.

It's like a lion's fierce face.

He strokes his gray hair back to make it all-back and rocks it in the wind like a bump.

The armor that Lau is wearing right now is the same light armor (light armor) that I am wearing, shaped with an emphasis on ease of movement.

But Lau's armor is more than twice as thick as mine.

Naturally, it should weigh a lot, but I can't feel the weight in its footsteps.

Armed only about 60 cm sword fixed to right arm guard. Its fullness distorts like a sickle, reminiscent of the beast's claws. It is a weapon commonly known as a "hook claw". Though they tend to look down on me, I understand that's the best shape for Lau, who focuses on fighting.

When I strangled the leg guard belt to the finish, I got up.

"So, are you ready that way?

"I wouldn't mind anytime."

Answer in light condition as if you were heading to the tavern as well. He said he was going to fight, but he's as bold as ever.

While I thought so, the moment I saw it at hand for whatever reason - I looked up.

There was a familiar leg meat gripped.

This guy, no way.

I asked as I almost guessed the answer.

"You, what's wrong with that?" Give it to me with your jaw.

"Hmm, this it?" Then Lau lifted the edge of his lips, and answered openly, "I just picked it up there."

You think I picked it up?

This man is soaked.

"You didn't pick it up, you beat it up and took it away"

"Don't say that."

"... ha"

I accidentally leaked a sigh before Lau, who wouldn't even be evil.

You did it again without thinking about it.

Looking at me wrinkling between my eyebrows, Lau laughed at Guerraggera.

"Don't be damp, Bruno."

"Whose fault do you think it is? Mostly you're always..."

"Don't say that. I don't know what I've done. More than that."

Lau turned that whole arm around my shoulder and brought the meat closer together.

"Eat your money, too."

"I don't need it."

"Don't say things that don't stick around. You're hungry, aren't you? I'm losing weight, see?"

"I said I don't need it - don't force me to screw it into your mouth. Depressing!

"Gahahahahaha"

"... chip, we're going"

When I realized I was being made fun of, I walked out on my own when I brutally removed Lau's arm.

"Hey, wait. Don't be mad at me like that, Bruno. That's a little joke."

Laughing in a wild voice, Lau follows me.

Damn, this guy.

This has been the case for a long time.

When I'm with this guy, things always go crazy.