The Elite Rats at the front passed through the woodland. In the middle of the group, one Elite Rat's scarlet eyes suddenly darted about. It seemed to have sensed something. Its nose twitched, and it began to raise its head, following a scent.
Just then, a wild fruit dropped from above and rolled to a stop by its feet. The Elite Rat's attention shifted at once. It picked up the fruit and stuffed it into its mouth.
Sweet, tart juice filled its mouth, and thick saliva dripped from its jaws. It looked up, hoping to find more fruit, but saw only a black gun barrel pointed at it.
Bang!
Before it could react, a shot rang through the trees, startling a great flock of birds that had not dared make a sound until then.
The Elite Rat fell with blood spraying from its shattered head. Before the Rat Swarm could react, four more shots rang out. Blood burst from the heads and necks of four more Ratfolk!
Every wound was fatal. Within thirty meters, Pike almost never missed.
The remaining Elite Rats finally reacted. Shrieking, they charged the tree where their attacker was hiding.
Pike did not move. He put away his empty musket, drew another Magic Musket from his back, and pulled the trigger again.
Bang—bang—click—
The third shot never came. Pike's luck had run out: on the eighth round, he had hit the ten-percent chance of a jam.
The Elite Rats had reached the tree. With longswords clenched in their jaws, they drove sharp claws into the trunk and climbed toward Pike.
Pike stayed calm. He leaped between the treetops like an elf, slung the jammed Magic Musket onto his back, reloaded the empty one, and pulled the trigger again.
Pike toyed with the entire Elite Rat squad.