When he heard the gunshots behind him.
Vasini knew the ti had co.
His shout stopped all of his panicking followers.
"Don't be afraid, no one will die. I will lead you to ultimate victory because..."
Because God is watching over us.
Looking to the heavens one last ti, Vasini finally unleashed Throat-Cutter Neil.
The blade spun through the air.
Along with it, bullets spun too.
Outside Little Ibia.
As Travis charged from Vasini's rear, a pair of eyes were watching them.
Valentino.
Indeed, at the start of the battle, Vasini had positioned Valentino to wait on the sidelines.
He knew early on, Travis would launch an ambush.
This was a setup.
Several days ago, while in prayer, he received divine insight.
God told him that enemies in the west were scheming.
The west, which could only an those Western gangsters.
God subsequently sent down divine decrees, revealing the enemy's possible movents, and even dispatched the Divine Envoy once more.
The terrifying man who wielded the giant axe.
Yes, the sa great man known as War God True Na Five who, with Ethan, intercepted Kaster that night, the Skull Crusher.
Ethan once again borrowed this person from Joseph.
Now, this man was with Valentino, waiting for an opportunity.
Waiting for this chance to strike from Travis' rear.
This was a thrilling hunt for Travis.
Yet, under divine observation, destined to be a total failure.
"Praise the Dark Savior."
In his heart, Valentino offered his sincerest praise, and then he drew his gun.
Move.
The gunfire roared in chaos.
Though his n had switched to the latest Wenster "typewriter," Travis stuck to his roots, insisting on using a revolver.
He charged with blinding speed, as if riding a horse though he had none beneath him.
In an instant, he reached the rear of Vasini's ranks.
His revolver worked almost like a lee weapon; he dodged incoming bullets while precisely shooting every mber of the Martinos Clan.
"Guys, where's your firepower? Isn't that fancy stuff not as good as our little pistols?"
His n, provoked, quickly unleashed a barrage of gunfire.
The Martinos Clan seed caught between advancing and retreating.
They tried to push out, yet seed to want to push in.
The result was they were stuck at the entrance, becoming sitting ducks.
Yet.
Travis soon noticed a problem.
Bullets were fired, and Martinos Clan mbers seed to be hit.
But the truth was, getting hit ant nothing.
The bullets, when nearing the Martinos clan mbers, mysteriously veered off course.
As if so mystical power was guarding them.
"This gun has a problem!"
But his subordinates saw it differently, thinking it was the gun's fault. After several rounds missing the target, they revived, realizing their special protective force, the Martinos Clan counter-killed several.
They had to revert to using their revolvers.
"Damn it, what use is this Wenster typewriter? Guys, use your revolvers!"
Faced with abnormality, Travis' n did not collapse. After all, they accompanied him out from the West's inferno of blood and fire, this setback was no big deal.
Besides, they weren't the only ones with mystical strengths, they had their own.
Who better understands death than those from the West?
"To...the scorching sun and the departed souls."
Travis raised his gun like he was raising a glass of wine.
The next mont, mbers of the Western gang, who were seemingly knocked down by bullets, rose again as if they never died.
Simultaneously, amidst the crossfire, soone moved quickly.
This person, with a face almost identical to Travis, but much younger.
He completely ignored ordinary Martinos Clan mbers, only searching for a target.
Vasini.
Once he killed Vasini.
No matter the intensity of the stalemate, it would co to an end.
So did notice this anomaly in the war, but he was too fast, beyond the reaction speed of bullets and humans. Hastily fired bullets couldn't touch him.
Eventually, he closed in on Vasini's side.
Vasini, at this ti was alone, wielding a blade, blocking most attacks from forr allied mbers.
His resilience gradually stabilized the Martinos Clan's defenses, letting them focus on the newer enemies.
Vasini felt no fatigue; as he wielded Throat-Cutter Neil, and controlled the Southern District Mafia, his power was advancing rapidly.
Just days ago, he successfully ascended from Third True Na Underground Baron to Fourth True Na, Godfather Candidate.
His command over Throat-Cutter Neil beca more perfect, and his physical strength greatly enhanced. Alley battles favored forr allies and equally favored him.
He alone guarded the alley entrance. With Throat-Cutter Neil, no one could approach him.
Until the young Travis arrived.
"Vasini, you must be Vasini, your opponent is !"
The young Travis drew a revolver identical to Travis's and aid at Vasini.
This shot...
Vasini suddenly felt an imnse unease.
The feeling of being stared at by death.
He imdiately refocused all his attention, pulling Throat-Cutter Neil beside him, and fully concentrated on this newly erged man.
In just an instant.
The gun fired.
The young Travis fired directly, the shot lacked any skill, and seed slow.
Yet when the bullet left the chamber, Vasini had a feeling he couldn't possibly escape it.
As if seeing the bullet ant announcing the end of his life.
"Goodbye."
The young Travis smiled.
Vasini, however, tightened his grip on the blade. He was not afraid, afraid of nothing.
His Lord above!
With a strong faith in the Dark Savior, he called for divine help.
Yet the next mont.
What he received was...
A lightning-like impact, he was completely frozen by it.
So much so that any response was impossible.
The bullet was now before him, about to pierce his forehead.
He sensed great panic, but not for his own life ending.
But because, why hadn't the Lord answered him?
Instead, such a strange feedback.
What happened to Him?
Could it be, the Lord has abandoned us?!
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