“That’s what I’m talking about Mr. Franky.” Vincent grinned as he nudge Raphael. “Treating beer like wine. Well, that’s it Mr. Franky, but sometimes selling mid-tier quality has a faster return of investment than waiting for the twelve bottles to be sold. Unless you got a lot of rich snobs lined up for that.” He blows another cloud of smoke. “It’s a good retirement plan ain’t it? You got plenty of booze and you make that money work for you.” Vincent chuckled at the idea of opening a brewery. He has been thinking about opening one ever since he moved to Zaichaer proper. But he knew that he needed to get their family recipe to stand out from the competition, but he knew that his brother won’t give the recipe away without gaining something from it and once you made a deal with him, he got you on leash.
Vincent turned and looked at the Moratallen. He chuckled, “Well, it’s not that kind of shooting.” Vincent grinned slightly at the Moratallen as he pulled his cloak just enough for the Moratallen to get a glimpse of the Pepperbox he was carrying. “This kind of shooting. Nice shooting by the way.” Vincent motioned at the pretzels. “Waste of food though”. He shrugged. "But if you’re as good as you shoot with a pretzel then you should try using the real stuff. Then, we could make another wager amongst us.” He grinned slyly. He observed that the Moratallen seem to have a good aim with the pretzels and due to him being conditioned to look out for potential persons of interest he tried to pry information from the Moratallen. Owning an unregistered firearm is in itself a felony.
Just as the reports said. Vincent grinned slightly as he witnessed Terra’s response to his challenge. Vincent stole a glance at Franky and the bag of coin that he was holding then back at Terra.
“Even if they could shield themselves against a bullet, the question would be for how long they could put their shield up? It’s not the gun that’s deadly, it’s the one who wields it that makes it deadly.”
Damn it, she went for it. Vincent thought to himself as he saw Terra take a knee and raise her weapon. He could feel Raphael staring him down, that man’s always itching to abuse his power on the non-humans.
“I mean, it’s a goblin’s words against an officer’s words.” Raphael laughed sarcastically as he slapped Vincent’s back. “Ain’t that right,” He paused and took a deep breath, “Lieutenant Wolfgang?”
Fuck that bastard. Terra’s got a point, and having an officer of the Riverland Corps discharging his weapon and killing a civilian would be a ton of paperwork. Covering it up would be even more of a headache. Vincent thought to himself as he pondered on what to do. If he sided with Franky, he would lose the respect of his peers. If he sided with the soldiers, an innocent civilian might get shot with a stray bullet. Myles? Fuck that gorilla of a man. I’d rather be fist-fighting an Orkhan than facing that guy. Vincent thought to himself as he began discreetly fiddling with the pistol’s mechanism. He learned a trick from a mercenary back in Kaiserhausen on how to jam a Pepperbox, but there’s still a thirty percent chance of firing.
Vincent chuckled. “Well, sometimes seeing is believing, right? Unless you’re having second thoughts, Private First Class Terra?”
Vincent took out his pistol and aimed it at the flagon, and pulled back the firing pin. Even without turning his head to see Raphael’s reaction, he knew that Raphael was holding his breath.
“Well, Mr. Franky, it is a bumpy ride huh?” He chuckled and gave a quick wink at Franky before closing one eye, aims at the flagon and pulling the trigger. Nothing happened. Vincent was seventy percent sure that the gun would be jammed. He sighed a sigh of relief and holstered his gun. Damn it, I shouldn’t have spent too much time on the gambling table with Sebastian. His recklessness began to rub off on me.
He knelt beside Terra “Stand down Private. Now that’s an order.” He whispered before picking up his flagon. He stood up and raised his flagon. “To those we lost and to those we still have.” His eyes darted from Franky to the Moratallen to the soldiers and back at Franky, “Skoll”.
After gulping the entirety of his flagon he turned and addressed the occupants of the cart. "Well, the beer ain't gonna drink itself right?"
Vincent turned and looked at the Moratallen. He chuckled, “Well, it’s not that kind of shooting.” Vincent grinned slightly at the Moratallen as he pulled his cloak just enough for the Moratallen to get a glimpse of the Pepperbox he was carrying. “This kind of shooting. Nice shooting by the way.” Vincent motioned at the pretzels. “Waste of food though”. He shrugged. "But if you’re as good as you shoot with a pretzel then you should try using the real stuff. Then, we could make another wager amongst us.” He grinned slyly. He observed that the Moratallen seem to have a good aim with the pretzels and due to him being conditioned to look out for potential persons of interest he tried to pry information from the Moratallen. Owning an unregistered firearm is in itself a felony.
Just as the reports said. Vincent grinned slightly as he witnessed Terra’s response to his challenge. Vincent stole a glance at Franky and the bag of coin that he was holding then back at Terra.
“Even if they could shield themselves against a bullet, the question would be for how long they could put their shield up? It’s not the gun that’s deadly, it’s the one who wields it that makes it deadly.”
Damn it, she went for it. Vincent thought to himself as he saw Terra take a knee and raise her weapon. He could feel Raphael staring him down, that man’s always itching to abuse his power on the non-humans.
“I mean, it’s a goblin’s words against an officer’s words.” Raphael laughed sarcastically as he slapped Vincent’s back. “Ain’t that right,” He paused and took a deep breath, “Lieutenant Wolfgang?”
Fuck that bastard. Terra’s got a point, and having an officer of the Riverland Corps discharging his weapon and killing a civilian would be a ton of paperwork. Covering it up would be even more of a headache. Vincent thought to himself as he pondered on what to do. If he sided with Franky, he would lose the respect of his peers. If he sided with the soldiers, an innocent civilian might get shot with a stray bullet. Myles? Fuck that gorilla of a man. I’d rather be fist-fighting an Orkhan than facing that guy. Vincent thought to himself as he began discreetly fiddling with the pistol’s mechanism. He learned a trick from a mercenary back in Kaiserhausen on how to jam a Pepperbox, but there’s still a thirty percent chance of firing.
Vincent chuckled. “Well, sometimes seeing is believing, right? Unless you’re having second thoughts, Private First Class Terra?”
Vincent took out his pistol and aimed it at the flagon, and pulled back the firing pin. Even without turning his head to see Raphael’s reaction, he knew that Raphael was holding his breath.
“Well, Mr. Franky, it is a bumpy ride huh?” He chuckled and gave a quick wink at Franky before closing one eye, aims at the flagon and pulling the trigger. Nothing happened. Vincent was seventy percent sure that the gun would be jammed. He sighed a sigh of relief and holstered his gun. Damn it, I shouldn’t have spent too much time on the gambling table with Sebastian. His recklessness began to rub off on me.
He knelt beside Terra “Stand down Private. Now that’s an order.” He whispered before picking up his flagon. He stood up and raised his flagon. “To those we lost and to those we still have.” His eyes darted from Franky to the Moratallen to the soldiers and back at Franky, “Skoll”.
After gulping the entirety of his flagon he turned and addressed the occupants of the cart. "Well, the beer ain't gonna drink itself right?"
