Chapter 431 Go to sleep, go to sleep

Everything turned around one decadent afternoon.

Today's bounty showdown was still unable to start due to insufficient spectators, and after Paulkin Walker failed another job interview, he finally couldn't bear the pressure and came to a tavern to get drunk.

He was grumpy and drank the wine in one gulp, but at the end of the glass he ate a mouthful of wine dregs.

The lees are not the residue of fermented wheat, but wood chips that are not finely divided.

Using sawdust to promote fermentation is a dirty thing that even the sloppiest of Ayrs wouldn't bother to do.

He had a conflict with the bartender and sat down without saying a word under the threat of the thugs in the tavern.

Paulkin Walker gave in, but when the bartender turned around, he picked up a piece of sawdust from the wine glass and shaved off a few hairs standing on top of the bartender's head.

He did it secretly, but this scene was still discovered by someone. The person came over, ordered an expensive "silver salute" for him, chatted with him, and said that he was so accurate that he could come to shoot.

Club work.

Paulkin Walker was so flattered when he received the job offer for the first time that he left the man's phone number and went to the Sparrow Shooting Club on Capone Lane that afternoon.

When he learned that the job of a shooting coach was not only to teach shooting, but also to solicit customers for the club, Paulkin Walker did not back down.

He has no choice.

At first, the job didn't displease him.

In fact, he quite liked the continuous sound of gunshots in the club's shooting range. Those sounds once made him addicted to it.

Later he found his home, but those gunshots did not become disgusting to him - he still liked them, but for the sake of more important things, he had to stay away from them.

Now, forced by life, they appeared in his life again, and he realized that he could contact them in another way, which made him vaguely happy.

The trouble after becoming a shooting instructor is not "teaching design skills" itself, but soliciting customers.

For him, soliciting customers is a very troublesome thing. After a series of "marketing training", Paulkin Walker found that he simply hated soliciting customers.

Practicing a gun means practicing a gun. Isn’t it just a matter of teaching clients how to shoot accurately? What are you doing with all this nonsense?

Paulkin Walker soon discovered that people who came to the club and wanted to practice shooting actually followed the same tactics as in the marketing training.

They don't care whether your playing is accurate or not, and they don't care whether your teaching is good or not. They only care about whether the price is acceptable to them, and price is something that can be increased by talking skills. You must master enough talking skills to change your major.

Guests feel they get their money's worth - even if it's just spiritually.

It's really terrible.

There were many people looking for him at the beginning, because when agents introduced him, they usually packaged him as a "Bounty Showdown Gold Medal Gunslinger". This kind of packaging once allowed him to get many customers.

But customers usually only stay with him for a week, and by the second week, they leave.

The reason why clients do not continue the class is because he teaches too quickly and often teaches all the things that need to be taught in the first week. Although the exercises are not enough, the clients have mastered the practice methods from him and feel that they do not need them.

No more practicing at expensive shooting ranges.

The second reason is that he has such a bad temper. Although he is a good teacher, he is too strict and scolds him if he disagrees. The client is here to practice shooting, not to be scolded. After a whole week, he naturally doesn't want to be scolded.

The second week will be miserable again.

After the agent learned about this situation, he communicated with Paulkin Walker and tried to change his situation.

Paulkin Walker also knew his bad temper. He cherished this job and did not want to lose his job because of his bad temper.

But he doesn’t want to use the words used in marketing training to deceive people. For him, things related to firearms cannot be deceived, as that would be an insult to firearms.

As a result, fewer and fewer people came to him to practice shooting, and the money he made became less and less.

He vaguely felt that he was wrong. He needed money, and Dalia needed money too. Since those marketing words could make him money, they could be used.

But every time those words came to his lips, he couldn't say them out.

He was very frustrated and thought, maybe I am not born to do this?

Until another unproductive day as a student, he came home from get off work and saw a woman in a dark green robe walking out of his home, nodded to him, smiled, and left grandly.

"Dalia, that is?"

Dalia, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, seemed to be different from before, but Paulkin Walker couldn't tell what was different.

"That's a missionary from the Hermetic Order of Spring."

Dalia's face shone with a healthy rosy glow.

"How do you think I look?"

Paulkin Walker said it truthfully:

"Much better than before..."

It is indeed much better than before, because the Asian doctor's bitter juice has too many side effects, and each stage of the treatment is as if it is fatal. Only after one course of treatment, Dalia will regain her vitality.

Paulkin Walker remembered that when she went out this morning, Dalia still looked weak, but in the afternoon she became so... radiant.

It's not normal.

"Dalia..."

Paulkin Walker thought about his words in his heart. Daria was the only person he had to think about before talking to her. She was too fragile, like a rose that could wither at any time. He wanted to be in every aspect.

He protected her with all his words, including his words.

"I know some small sects. They treat their believers well, but there are always some unexpected situations and some... side effects."

Dalia sat up from the bed, held his hand, and said seriously:

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I didn't let her touch my body. I was just meditating. I know they are a cult, but I still want to give it a try. After all, it doesn't cost anything to try, right?"

The word "spend money" hit Paulkin Walker's heart, and he nodded blankly.

"In short...if you want to deal with them, you must be careful."

What Paulkin Walker didn't expect was that when he returned home the next afternoon, Dalia had fallen ill on the bed, and her skin seemed to be withered.

Everything happened so suddenly that he was completely caught off guard.

"Paul..."

Dalia grabbed his arm:

"Go to Astana from the Spring God Secret Order...she is..."

She gave an address, but Paulkin Walker did not leave immediately after she finished speaking, as he usually did.

"Dalia, we can't rely on that cult! I don't know what happened to you. I need to take you to a doctor!"

The fear of death made Dalia lose her mind, and she collapsed and yelled:

"Paul! You don't love me anymore! You have to save me! I'm going to die! Go find Astana!"

He forcibly carried Dalia on his back, ignored her struggle, and rushed out the door.

He took her to see an Asian doctor. After taking her pulse, the doctor expressed his inability to do anything and told Paulkin Walker that what happened to Dahlia was beyond his control.

The Asian doctor only gave him a piece of ore fragment that glowed with dim green light. He told Paulkin Walker that taking this thing with him could save Dalia's life at a critical moment.

Paulkin Walker did not see Dalia's obvious rejection of the ore fragments. His mind was in a mess, and he just put the ore fragments into his pocket.

He carried her home, and in his daze, he didn't realize that she had bitten his back.

He didn't know why everything suddenly turned out like this. He only saw her swallowing his flesh and blood, causing an abnormal blush to appear on her face. It wasn't until this moment that he realized that this blush was exactly the same as yesterday.

What did those damn cultists from the Spring God Secret Order do to her?

"As long as you give me meat, Paul, as long as you eat meat, I will live!"

Dalia, who had regained some sense, held Paul's hands, seemingly not caring that she had just eaten his flesh and blood.

"No, Dalia, that will turn you into a monster..."

After experiencing absolute despair, Paulkin Walker's heart actually calmed down.

"We can't do such a thing, Dalia... I will take you to see other doctors, and there will always be one who can cure your disease!"

Dalia slapped him and lunged at him with a roar.

This time, he stopped her from eating his own flesh and blood.

He didn't know what happened to her, he only knew that he couldn't let her continue like this. Flesh and blood was not only something that could restore her to that "abnormal state of health", it was also a poison that killed her.

He held her tightly:

"Dalia, listen to me, listen to me, I will help you, you will get better..."

Dalia's struggle in his arms gradually weakened, until a moment later, she collapsed in his arms.

She wasn't breathing.

Paulkin Walker's mind went blank.

A few seconds later, Dalia opened her eyes again, and Paulkin Walker saw that her pupils had disappeared, and her eye sockets were filled with squirming strains.

"Dalia..."

He called her name, but all he received in response was a frenzied attack.
To be continued...