However, the Left-Wheel Handgun is somewhat different, it's called a Left-Wheel Handgun because the cylinder of this revolver can be detached towards the left from the frame, moved to a more convenient position for reloading, thereby making rapid reloading possible!
With the addition of metallic fixed ammunition, the firing rate of the brand-new Left-Wheel Handgun could completely crush the previous arms and equipment, becoming the new king!
One could say that ever since Tang Mo introduced paper-fixed ammunition, an old era of muskets had begun to decline, and the concept of a new, systematic Individual Self-defense Weapon System started to emerge.
From that point on, the development of firearms included the development of ammunition as well as improvements to the firearms themselves. In fact, they began to diverge into two paths, and only by advancing concurrently on both paths could one design the perfect weapon and thereby achieve superiority in war.
It was also from this time that the manufacturing of individual weapons involved chemistry, materials science, metallurgy, physics, ergonomics... even aesthetic optimization of the exterior appearance, among other disciplines.
Equipping a soldier became easy, while manufacturing the arms for an equipped soldier became complicated. Arms dealers became increasingly important, to the point where they could even hold a nation hostage.
Indeed, Tang Mo was crafting his new "Individual Self-defense Weapon System," which was the world's first real Left-Wheel Handgun!
A type of handgun that could be rapidly reloaded using a speedloader, far more powerful than any weapon before it! He could fire continuously catching the enemy off-guard, and while the foe thought his ammo had run out, he could rapidly reload in a few seconds and once again unleash a torrent of firepower to show the enemy true despair!
Carrying two handguns could achieve something similar, but having two guns on hand was very inconvenient on many occasions.
Moreover, if Tang Mo needed powerful firepower, couldn't he just design a submachine gun for himself later on?
Because Tang Mo had already decided to craft a Left-Wheel Handgun with metallic fixed ammunition for himself, he therefore sold his first-generation revolver as if it were just any other commodity.
Clearly, at this moment, after seeing the mighty power of the revolver, Tagg couldn't imagine that Tang Mo had an even more advanced weapon in hand, so he truly believed that the handgun before him was the best in the world!
Tagg was very pleased with Tang Mo's attitude towards selling weapons, but he still was curiously captivated by the revolver—he really wanted to take a closer look at the excellent weapon he might soon be equipped with.
"Right, Wes!" Tang Mo, smiling, turned to Wes who stood to one side, pretending to be unfathomable, and said, "Remember? I said I'd give you a revolver?"
"Of course!" Wes's eyes lit up instantly; he had coveted that handgun for a long time, and upon hearing Tang Mo bring it up again today, naturally, he became excited.
"It seems that Officer Tagg likes this handgun very much…" Tang Mo said with a smile to Wes, "How about it? Interested in using it as a stake for a game?"
"What kind of game?" Tagg's spirits lifted immediately, looking at Tang Mo excitedly and asking. He really wanted that handgun, very much so!
Wes, seeing the smile on Tang Mo's face, knew that things wouldn't be so simple, and could only offer a bitter smile, "I guess it's nothing good."
"I really want to see just how formidable you Guard are…" Sure enough, Tang Mo glanced at both of them and then said to Wes.
"I knew it." Wes looked at Tagg, sizing up his opponent: "So, you want Tagg to be my opponent?"
"No problem!" Tagg was eager to try, already fantasizing about grabbing that handgun after beating Wes.
"Sigh…" Seeing Tagg's appearance, Wes knew that today's contest was inevitable. In fact, he wasn't willing to give up the handgun that had brought him such a shock just like that.
"Do we need practice swords?" Not one to shy away from a commotion, Tang Mo asked as the two men began to distance themselves from each other.
"No need!" Wes glanced at Tagg and said, "It's just for fun, everyone just be careful, that's all."
He had long coveted that revolver, and now that Tang Mo was finally willing to put it up, he was not about to miss this opportunity.
Moreover, in his subconscious, he didn't believe Tagg could beat him in a duel. So he wanted to show Tang Mo his exquisite swordsmanship.
The more days he spent with Tang Mo, the more he felt coming to Tang Mo was the right decision. The more he saw Tang Mo as a worthy choice to serve, the more he needed to demonstrate his capabilities in order to secure a good position.
"Then let's begin!" Tagg was no less competitive, equally eager to get his hands on that ultimate prize and closely study the revolver.
He was also full of confidence; as a confidant of Earl Fisello, his swordsmanship was formidable, not in a flashy way, but lethal in the crucible of the battlefield.
So the two men took their positions, silence spread across the range, and without anyone declaring a start, both of them moved almost simultaneously.
"Clang!" Wes's longsword left its sheath, emitting a sound akin to a dragon's chant, and with a stretch of his long arm, the blood-stained blade struck straight for Tagg's face.
Tagg had been on guard against Wes, and seeing him draw the longsword, he too unsheathed his own to parry. Their swords clashed, letting out a grating sound of metal on metal.
Neither man backed down but instead diffused the force and drew back their longswords to launch fierce attacks at each other.
The speed of their swordplay was incredibly fast, sparking a shower of sparks in front of them. Their blades collided once again, the clear ringing sound sending shivers down the spine.
Wes took a step back, creating distance, but this did not mean he was cowed. On the contrary, it was a precursor to closing the distance for another onslaught, a habit he had developed from years of combat.
As the saying goes, one must pull back their fist to strike out again. Wes's experience in bloodied combat taught him how to better exploit his advantages.
His longsword pointed at Tagg, then suddenly lunged forward, the blade stabbing through the air with a whistling sound.
Tagg blocked with his sword horizontally, once again knocking Wes's blade aside. However, as he was adjusting his stance, Wes kicked him fiercely in the abdomen.
The two collided, and being an officer, Tagg's combat experience was from the battlefield, so he didn't have much of an unorthodox skillset.
Taken by surprise, he was kicked hard in the stomach by Wes. Relying on his sturdy physique, Tagg sidestepped Wes and, though he staggered, he did not fall.
Just as Wes thought he had secured the win, Tagg avoided the kick and counterattacked with his elbow, smashing into the back of Wes as he passed by him.
Wes grunted, clearly affected by Tagg's hit. Despite the pain, he quickly turned around to maintain vigilance, watching Tagg holding his stomach.
Tagg, clutching his belly and wielding his longsword, stood shakily opposite Wes. He had wanted to follow up on his advantage with a fierce attack on Wes, but hadn't expected his opponent to remain so agile after being struck.
"Huff... huff..." Wes gasped for air, regulating his breath. The burning pain in his back severely disrupted his breathing rhythm.
Keeping familiar breathing patterns in combat is vital; once the rhythm is lost, it spells the beginning of defeat.
Deeply aware of this, Wes did not rush to attack, even though he knew his opponent was also attempting to recover.
Tagg was also gasping, his belly throbbing painfully. The imprint of Wes's boot on his uniform served to fuel his anger and humiliation.
He knew Wes was a renowned Northern Ridge Ranger, but he hadn't expected him to be this formidable.
In his opinion, the so-called Ranger mercenaries were nothing more than gangsters and riffraff, not fit to be compared with a regular army.
However, the Ranger named Wes had delivered a profound lesson. His agility, ruthless tactics, and unpredictable angles of attack rendered him nearly indefensible.
At this point, Tagg had set aside the notion of sparring, consumed with the desire to measure himself against such a worthy opponent, as the saying goes, "a good chess match comes with a good opponent."
Wes shared the same sentiment — let that damned revolver go to hell! He thought bitterly, "I'm going to teach this guy named Tagg a lesson!"
"Ha!" Tagg made the first move, lifting his longsword and charging at Wes.
"Ha!" Wes, not to be outdone, roared as he brandished his sword to meet the assault.
Their longswords clashed once more, creating sparks that had yet to fade when they drew back their swords and swung at each other again.
Roger, watching from the side, was terrified. This was the first time he had witnessed such a ferocious battle between masters.
Tang Mo, however, watched with great enjoyment, not wanting to miss a single detail as the two men on the training ground entangled once more in an intractable fight.
Finally, Wes seized an opportunity and landed a punch on Tagg's face, smack on his nose.
Tagg, in pain, stumbled back several steps, covering his nose with his hand and furrowing his brow as he stared at Wes.
His hand tightened subconsciously around the hilt of his longsword, and his eyes unwittingly filled with murderous intent. The pain in his nose brought back memories of war, igniting his innate instinct to kill.