The Gunslingers Bd50 Official

The doors swung open. The piano stopped playing. Three men walked in, their boots clomping heavily on the wooden floor. They wore the uniform of the Hyperion Corporation—black tactical armor, visored helmets, and high-tech laser rifles slung over their shoulders.

The bar went silent. The bartender ducked behind the counter.

The sound wasn't a gunshot; it was an explosion. The BD-50 roared inside its leather casing, the muzzle flash lighting up the dark bar like a strobe light. The heavy slug tore through the leather holster, through the table, and struck Kael in the center of his chest plate. the gunslingers bd50

It wasn't a standard sidearm. Standard sidearms were sleek, made of polymers and light alloys. The BD-50 was a relic from the Terra-Wars, a heavy-frame revolver that looked like it had been carved out of a starship’s engine block. It fired .50 caliber caseless rounds—slugs the size of a man's thumb, tipped with depleted uranium.

He stepped out into the twin-sun twilight, the weight of the BD-50 heavy on his hip, a ghost in a world of high-tech killers, proving that sometimes, there was no substitute for a big iron on your hip. The doors swung open

Silence returned to The Rusty Spur , broken only by the groaning of the wounded men outside and the settling of dust from the ceiling.

Instead, a subtitle flickered:

Elias looked down. His replica was now real. Cold steel. Six chambers, one loaded.