Kyne caught the gun Pieter Smit threw at him. His movements were swift, but his hands trembled slightly. The cold metal of the gun felt foreign in his palm, as if blending with the chill of the afternoon in Sandburg. He had never held a gun in his life. For him, guns had always been nothing but symbols of power, tools used by the powerful to oppress the weak. And now, it was in his hands—in his own.
Pieter Smit stood in front of him, staring straight at the two masked men who had just exited the bank. The sound of breaking glass and hurried footsteps echoed through the narrow, deserted streets of Sandburg. Pieter straightened, took a deep breath, and then shouted loudly, "Stop! Don't move!"
One of the thieves turned quickly, his voice deep and hoarse. "You again... Please stay out of my business!" he said, his voice mixed with anxiety and anger. Pieter recognized the voice. "If what you're doing is in the name of causing chaos in Sandburg, I, as a law enforcement officer, will not allow it."
But the thief didn't care. He turned to his partner and shouted, "Run!"
The two of them immediately ran towards the small road behind the bank, through a narrow alley lined with old billboards and dimly flickering streetlights.
"Junior, help me! Don't let them get away!" Pieter shouted as he gave chase.
Kyne simply nodded. He gripped the gun tightly and ran after Pieter. The sound of their footsteps echoed with the pounding of the rain that had begun to fall. Every time he stepped on a puddle, small splashes caught the hem of his pants. But he didn't care, because this was his first step as Sheriff.
They kept running until they reached a narrow fork in the road, two paths stretching out before them.
"I'll go left! You go right!" Pieter shouted.
Kyne followed, darting to the right over a moss-covered stone wall. The path was so narrow that his shoulders hit the wall several times. His breathing was heavy, but his mind remained focused. In his head, the sound of the thief's footsteps grew closer.
And sure enough, around the next corner—BRUGHH!
Kyne and the thief collided with each other hard!
The stolen goods—gold, money, and jewelry—scattered to the ground.
Kyne stared at the thief's face, covered by a black cloth. His eyes were bloodshot, his breathing labored. Reflexively, Kyne raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
But—
Click!
No bullets fired.
"What the hell...!?" Kyne muttered, panicked but trying to remain calm.
He pulled the trigger again. Still no result. He tried to straighten the gun, checking the trigger, but he really didn't know how to use it. The gun was heavy, full of unfamiliar mechanisms he'd never understood.
Meanwhile, the thief hurriedly gathered up the scattered money. He glanced at Kyne and chuckled sarcastically. "A stupid kid with an empty gun, how funny."
Kyne frowned. "If I were funny, you'd be laughing yourself to death. But who knows, maybe that's what's about to happen."
But the thief didn't care. He finished collecting the money and tried to flee. But as he stepped back, he slipped on the slippery road, and his money bag fell back down. Kyne stared at him coldly. He was still pressing the trigger, which wouldn't release a bullet.
Meanwhile, Pieter was still chasing the other thief on the other side of town. He was quick, the long rope on his belt ready to be thrown at any moment. He gauged the thief's direction, and once he found the right distance, he threw the lasso with precision.
Swoosh!
The rope wrapped around the thief, and Pieter pulled hard until the knot snapped. The thief fell to the ground.
"Catch one! But where's the kid!?" Pieter muttered as he dragged the captured thief.
Back to Kyne—
The thief in front of him was now standing. He approached, snatching the gun from Kyne's hand. "Stupid kid, that's not how you shoot," he said contemptuously.
He cocked the gun, stared at it, then pointed it at the wall to test it. There were no bullets. "Strange... maybe this gun is jammed, or empty..." he said. He shook the gun, trying to adjust it. "Or maybe…" he said, staring at the barrel bore—squeezing the trigger to check.
BANG!
A bullet flew out and struck his own face.
The thief's body fell backward, blood streaming down the street.
Kyne stood frozen for a few seconds. Silence enveloped the alley. Only the sound of the rain and the rustling of the wind could be heard.
Then, slowly, Kyne walked over. He looked at the thief's body, then picked up the gun that lay beside him.
"It finally works," he said flatly.
He patted the gun as if it had just been repaired. Then his eyes shifted to the thief's body again.
"After helping me remove the bullet, you're sleeping on the street like this. You're such a lazy person. No wonder your life ended as a thief. But I thank you—you fixed my gun."
Heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance. Pieter arrived, carrying a thief bound with rope. Upon seeing what had happened, his eyes widened in disbelief.
"Holy Lord... Kyne... what happened here?"
Kyne turned his head casually. "Your gun was a bit cranky, but it's fine now. And one of them... is done with the world."
Pieter looked at the thief's body, then at Kyne. "You... shot him?"
"You could say... it wasn't me. He shot himself," Kyne replied lightly, twirling the gun in his fingers.
The fellow thief Pieter had captured was frozen in fear. His eyes trembled as he saw his friend lying in a pool of blood.
"He... he died... because of that gun..." he said softly.
Pieter sighed heavily. "It's unbelievable... You not only thwarted a crime, but you also ended it..."