The gunman's gun barrel was still smoking as he was still leaning against the same tree as he struggled to get up.

His body was still shaking and on his face there were marks of blows with streams of blood still running from his mouth and forehead.

His breathing was heavy, but his gaze still seemed alive and attentive, while a pained smile appeared on his face and as he thought.

'He did it...'

Far away, hidden by trees, Oliver breathed heavily while holding tightly to his side, which was still bleeding.

He held himself back from grunting in pain and thought.

‘I let my guard down...’

Oliver remembered moments ago, just before the gunman fired.

Thanks to the sound he had noticed, he was able to throw himself to the side in an attempt to dodge, but the shot had still narrowly missed his torso, making him grunt in pain during the damage, but thanks to adrenaline he managed to move away. , despite not being able to go any further.

'To have prepared so much and yet I'm almost dying.' Oliver lightly removed his hand, which was still bloody, but revealed a torn piece of vest that fell from beneath his black shirt. ‘In the end, all that training dodging bullets wasn’t enough.’

Oliver clicked his tongue and soon heard slow, distant footsteps walking towards him.

The sound of something constantly colliding with the trees made him realize that the gunslinger was still supporting himself thanks to the damage, which, even though it was much smaller than Oliver's, weighed on his body.

With the sky now cloudless, the moon illuminated the forest and allowed us to see the image of both of them.

The footsteps continued and Oliver tried to position the arrow even with his arm shaking thanks to the shots and the loss of blood.

Until the footsteps stopped and Oliver heard an adult voice say.

“I didn't expect the vigilante to be just a boy...” Oliver once again heard a light, still painful laugh that made him realize that the gunman was also using his last strength. “You’re strong, you hit me so hard that the arm I used to defend myself doesn’t even move anymore.”

Oliver lifted his head slightly and leaned against the tree, forcing himself to stand up as he said.

“Why do you tell me that? Do you want me to feel sorry?”

“No, I asked for it. I still want to have a duel with you until the end.” His hands were still shaking and then he sighed saying. “In the end, the will this time will be mine.”

“You were dominated too, do you regret what you did?” Oliver stood up as he tried to buy time, loading his arrow as far as he could while it gave off a faint green glow. “Not that it matters now.”

“No, it doesn’t matter.” He sighed with a smile. “I think because you’re a hero it’s a worthy outcome.”

His mind wandered and he closed his eyes gathering strength, but soon a voice stood out.

“I’m not a hero.” Oliver took a step forward, revealing his body, still injured, but still standing with the gun pointed at his opponent. “I am not a relic user, I have my own ambition and I bear you no grudge. I have no obligation to the law, so if you run away, I won't pursue, but if you say you'll stay or try to find me again, you'll die.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Oliver pulled the arrow with even more force and blood sprayed down his side.

The gunman saw the piece of bullet vest exposed, not just one, but what appeared to be several piles that justified the guard's entire body being covered.

“I’m sorry, kid, but I can’t.” He spoke with a slight smile and raised his Colt pistol where there was only one bullet. “I have already infected myself with this weapon and if I go free, I will kill again.”

Focusing his vision, Oliver saw the image of an adult man of just over 30 years old, his hair was medium and brown and he could clearly see his body.

He saw a red scarf around his neck, the strange and limp posture was the same as the image Oliver had seen along with the holder for the bullets and ammunition.

“His shape resembles a man, but his weapon belongs to someone else.” Oliver gave a slight smile as he said. “It’s ironic to say the least that we are Robin Hoods from different times, isn’t it?”

“A clash of vigilantes, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” He looked at his gun and smiled saying. “Let’s have one last fight, boy. Whoever wins, comes out alive.”

"Accordingly."

Oliver's arrow turned completely green and gave off a faint glow, his memories took him back to the previous night, approaching the same time he had shot.

However, his memories didn't stop and he remembered the confrontation with Nolan when his arrow had emitted the same glow in that situation.

Upon seeing that, the gunman smiled and said.

“Relics become stronger when their bearers are under threat, I learned that the hard way.”

Slowly he moved his other arm and even with difficulty positioned it even as a support for his colt.

The two remained silent as they aimed, both hands were shaking, but after so long in that position they managed to stabilize as much as they could.

“They tell me that they did it like that in the Wild West.” The gunslinger spoke with a slight smile as he looked at Oliver's face. "One..."

“Two...” The archer interrupted, once again positioning his bow and making it stable. "At the same time."

The gunslinger was smiling and Oliver remained serious.

The wind was blowing and when a leaf fell they both opened their eyes wide and said.

"Three!"

The sound of gunshots happened and the two continued to stare at each other with shining eyes.

The outcome was still unclear, but Oliver fell to his knees and the pain in his body intensified, as if his entire body was on fire while the gunman remained standing.

However, soon a pistol fell to the ground far away while blood dripped from the gunman's mouth, making him laugh a little as a hole that had gone through his left hand and pierced his shoulder, leaving a perfect arrow mark.

Still on the floor, Oliver was panting and looked at his hand, which was still shaking, but then slapped it violently against his thigh while grunting.

“I knew you were going to shoot him in the chest, so I prepared myself...” Throwing himself backwards, he hit his back against a tree. “If you wanted, you could have killed me if you shot while my back was turned. Why?"

“Billy the Kid, Jesse James and many of those times believed in their own sense of justice.” The gunslinger's body gave way and he fell to the ground, hitting his back as blood flowed from the hole marked by the arrow and then he sighed, still feeling the pain. “Killing criminals, police officers who are corrupt or omitted in the end does not make the world a better place.”

“Are you sure you should be saying that?”

“Pretty hypocritical, huh?” In the end, the gunman tried to laugh again, but soon choked and coughed, feeling his strength leaving. “But in the end, the relics wanted a duel and so did I, you were better, that’s all.”

Oliver clicked his tongue and the gunslinger smiled as he spoke.

“You could have run away, what do you want from me, boy?” He looked up and closed his eyes. “You don’t know about them yet, do you?”

“No, I just received mine and did nothing to get them, but since then I have used them towards my goal. How did you receive yours?”

“You don’t choose to use them, they choose to use you.” The gunman smiled and said. “No matter how much I tried to get rid of them after being used by them, in the end, they always came back and as soon as I tried to get rid of them again, they took me over again.”

His mind wandered, perhaps like a vivid memory or a hallucination as the gunman concluded.

“In the end, they always return to the hands and the blood to which they belong. I've had them for a little over a year, but they feel like decades ago.”

Oliver's eyes widened when he heard that, but as he listened, he frowned as he realized that his opponent's voice was weakening.

“Passing this curse on to someone, what a scoundrel way to die, right, boy?”

With a long sigh, he stopped moving and Oliver clenched his teeth as he looked away irritated and frustrated, realizing that his opponent was no longer there.

'Scoundrel? Do you think that?" Oliver clenched his fist tightly as he sighed, looking at the moon that illuminated the forest as it made him think. 'The bulletproof vest that saved me, but if you had shot me in the head all along, I wouldn't have survived. Is this a victory?.'