You barely had time to notice the sound behind you before a hand caught your shoulder and pulled you sideways.

The bullet struck the wall where your head had been.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood stood there first, one hand still on you, the other gripping the massive cross against his shoulder like it weighed nothing. His expression stayed flat, but his eyes were sharp, already tracking where the shot came from.

A second later—almost too fast to understand—Vash the Stampede moved in front of you, coat sweeping hard through the dust as another shot rang out and missed.

“Whoa—okay, that was way too close.” Vash said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite hide how serious his eyes had become.

Wolfwood exhaled through his nose. “You blink for one second and trouble starts.”

Another sound came from the alley.

Before you could even turn, Vash had already stepped forward, gun raised, while Wolfwood shifted closer behind you, making sure nothing reached your back.

For one strange moment, the fear faded—not because the danger was gone, but because somehow both of them had already placed themselves exactly where they needed to be.