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墨書 Inktalez
On a winter night, snow fell gently, a natural sight, especially in Northern Huaguo. As previously mentioned, snow is the messenger of winter, often gracing this land so frequently that it was hard to remember how many times it had snowed in Washing City.
Jufeng distributed the guns he held to a few brothers. When it came time for Tong Bailong, the big guy scratched his head, looking somewhat troubled as he gazed at Jufeng. After careful consideration, Jufeng realized that the gun would be of little use to Tong Bailong; it was far less effective than whatever else he might have on him and would only serve as a burden.
He handed the gun back to Wenming and said earnestly, "I want to hear some practical solutions. I'm paying you for treatment, not preparing for sacrifice."
Wenming took the gun, feeling a complex mix of emotions. In a sense, his life should have already vanished from this world; the reason he had recovered from his serious illness and returned to life was entirely due to Xue's initial support. In other words, his life no longer belonged to him but to Hurricane. This was why Wenming had spoken as he did earlier. However, he did not expect Jufeng to refuse him so completely.
If there had been any lingering resentment in Wenming's heart towards Hurricane before, at this moment, he had fully accepted Hurricane as his own. The emotions between men are often simple and straightforward; a single word, an action, or a glance can be enough to forge a lifelong bond (is that perhaps a bit ambiguous?).
Wenming looked into Jufeng's eyes and felt reassured. There were no excesses of sentimentality or gratitude; he turned and tucked both guns into his waistband, stating solemnly, "There are too many of them. If we want to break through, we can only concentrate our forces at one point. The garage is very concealed; it doesn’t look like much from the outside. Once the brothers leave, we’ll charge out. But we can’t do it openly; we need to create a diversion at the front door. My idea is to open the door and invite them in."
"We're going to..."
Wenming tried to simplify things as much as possible and quickly laid out the battle plan. Upon hearing this, Jufeng nodded vigorously and swiftly sent a few people away.
Inside Canglang One Floating Life, Xue and his three companions had already huddled together inside their vehicle. Jufeng led the remaining five men, spreading out near the front door in preparation for a fierce counterattack.
Outside the villa, the snowfall began to ease; the moon shyly peeked out from behind clouds. A hunting party of thirty had entered the final stages of their encirclement and seemed poised to transform into a lion ready to deliver a fatal strike on its prey.
However, at that very moment, unexpectedly, the front door of the villa—previously silent—suddenly swung open halfway inward, revealing just enough space for one person to pass through and exposing the dark void within.
This sudden change startled those lying in ambush at the front door. "Swish! Swish! Swish!" The gun barrels turned toward that half-open door as they all gathered around it. Yet after waiting for some time, there was no sign of movement from within.
One of the leaders at the front door was puzzled; he had originally intended to force his way in but now found that the door had opened on its own. Could it be some sort of telepathy?
The leader turned his head to look at his subordinate, who also turned to look back at him. For a moment, both were left utterly confused.
They were supposed to enter through that door anyway; now that it had opened by itself, doubt crept into the leader's mind.
He knew about Hurricane’s reputation—the fastest rising new power in Washing City’s underworld over the past six months. Although there hadn’t been many battles fought, they had never suffered defeat. They had swallowed up three gangs in succession and risen to become one of Washing City's top players. Especially notable were gang leader Jufeng and his burly companion—both renowned warriors in their own right. Without those thirty guns in hand, he would never have dared venture into Tiger's Den to provoke danger. Even with guns at their disposal, facing an unknown world beyond that door still made him feel apprehensive and uneasy.
However, he would never know that at this moment in "Canglang One Floating Life," there were two "Gods of Striking" and one "Gun God"—a true "Gun God."
The door opened, and occasionally, the night wind swept in, carrying with it specks of light that danced into the room.
The leader hesitated for a moment, gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and signaled his subordinates to enter in single file while he brought up the rear.
The brother in front held a handgun tightly, rolling into the building before quickly kneeling half upright, gun barrel pointed forward in vigilance. There was no movement ahead, so he swept his gun across horizontally. After a second, he exhaled and beckoned with one hand behind him.
Thus, swiftly and successively, figures rushed into the room, spreading out to the left and right. It wasn't until the seventh person entered that the unusual events began.
First on the second floor, a "Sofa Chair" flew in from an unknown source, crashing towards the doorway. In response to the "Sofa Chair," several bullets came flying from all directions.
"Bang!" The "Sofa Chair" hit the ground with a heavy thud. Then footsteps echoed from the second floor, causing the "Gunner" on the first floor to tense up, quickly redirecting his gun as several bullets flew towards the second floor.
However, at that moment, the open door on the first floor slammed shut rapidly. A shadow that had blended into the night suddenly dropped from above the door. Two streaks of "Silver Light" flashed by, splattering liquid everywhere. The figure then leaped over the descending "Sofa Chair," followed by another fleeting "Silver Light," accompanied by three loud thuds as heavy objects hit the ground.
Taking advantage of the distraction created by the "Gunners" focusing their attention on the second floor, the shadow swiftly eliminated three of them before drawing attention back to the first floor.
"Puff! Puff!!" The "Gunner" fired bullets just in time; however, instead of piercing flesh and bone, they were drowned out by a mass of "Fluff."
After striking, the shadow crouched down behind the "Sofa Chair," where undoubtedly all those bullets found their mark.
They hadn’t even had time to advance when they were met with unexpected danger from behind.
Two men on one side felt a chill at their necks; in the next instant, they lost consciousness. The other two felt as if they had been hit by a truck, their minds going blank.
“Thud!” One side’s ambush did not go smoothly; as a last-ditch effort, a "Gunner" managed to fire a shot just before dying. Fortunately, the bullet grazed his shoulder without hitting any vital areas.
The figure behind the sofa stood up—it was Jufeng. The shadows on either side stepped out; they were Wenming and Tong Bailong. The two individuals from upstairs quickly descended; they were He Jie and Song Peng.
“Tong Bailong, are you alright?”
Tong Bailong shook his head, indicating that he was fine. His bold fighting style did not lend itself to evasion, so he hadn’t been quick enough, and a trickle of blood ran down his arm.
Jufeng nodded. He didn’t know where his gun had gone, but now he held two objects resembling daggers. The blades were a bit long, reminiscent of the ancient Tang Dao from Huaguo.
Jufeng aligned the handles of the two daggers and gave them a gentle twist, transforming them into one weapon. Another light twist made the blades disappear, leaving only a moderately thick and appropriately sized cylindrical object. Jufeng tucked it into his waist and drew out his handgun.
“You all head to the garage and prepare. I’ll cover for Civilization. In two minutes, have A Yuan drive.”
Tong Bailong and the others took their orders and ran toward the back. Jufeng exchanged a glance with Civilization, who understood that they intended to deal with the bodies inside and the spoils they had left behind.
Inside Canglang One Floating Life, there were Roman Columns and tables. Jufeng and Civilization quickly scattered the bodies throughout various corners of the villa, finding supports to prop them up so they wouldn’t fall over. They then removed the magazines from the scattered handguns and tucked them into their pockets. They exchanged nods of understanding.
…
The leader at the front door realized something was wrong the moment the villa door closed, but being cautious by nature, he didn’t dare to rush in recklessly. Instead, he called over the other two leaders on either side, and the three conferred on what to do next.
Time was tight; not everyone was as timid as the leader at the front door. After all, they were working for their gang, and there were always loyal members among them. Soon enough, another wave of people was dispatched from both sides, preparing to charge at the front door once more.
Jufeng ’s group was indeed fortunate; had another person been in charge at that moment when the villa door closed and sent others rushing inside, the outcome could have been entirely different. Although there were only three people at that time at the front door, any one of them might have been able to hold back Civilization or Tong Bailong—certainly not ending up as it did.
They discussed for no more than half a minute before preparing to charge in again when suddenly, the villa door opened once more. This time, a figure emerged alongside it.
Without hesitation, a barrage of bullets flew toward him, instantly turning his chest into a bloody mess.
Surprisingly, however, he did not fall; he stood tall and unyielding.
The people outside halted at the sound of gunfire but failed to notice that this man, riddled with bullets yet still standing firm, was already dead beyond measure.
Suddenly, someone outside reacted and shouted, "Heart!" However, as soon as the words left their mouth, a loud sound erupted.
"Bang!" It was a crisp and deep sound, the roar of the 796 fourth generation gun, which felt particularly out of place in the stillness of the night.
Although the assassins also used this type of pistol, theirs were equipped with full metal suppressors, so they naturally did not make such a noise. The sound came from the counterattack of the people inside the house.
The bullet was fired from under the armpit of the shield bearer, hitting the timid leader.
The leader's eyes widened in shock, a gaping hole on his forehead. He could not comprehend how he had met such an inexplicable fate. Even if he had been cowardly just now and did not enter the villa with them, why should his own brothers hold such a grudge?
Unable to understand, his body fell backward in an instant. However, everyone around him understood immediately with that shout of "Heart," and instinctively reacted. Another round of gunfire erupted, and the unfortunate figure at the door could no longer withstand it; his chest was beyond saving!
The tranquil night was shattered by that sound. The figure standing at the door no longer stood upright but leaned forward stiffly. Yet behind that corpse, there was no trace of any other figure.
(To be continued)
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