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墨書 Inktalez
Inside the room, gunfire erupted like hell itself had descended!
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Carter clutched the boss's lifeless body tightly, using it as a human shield as he charged through the hail of bullets from all directions.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!" Bullets hammered into the boss's body like a torrential downpour, blood splattering everywhere as his body convulsed violently, resembling a rag doll caught in a storm of gunfire. Yet, this also shielded Carter from the deadly fire.
His gaze was icy as he locked onto a junior member who was preparing to shoot.
"Shit—!" The junior member screamed in terror, fumbling to pull the trigger.
But Carter was faster!
He forcefully shoved the boss's body forward, knocking the junior member to the ground. With lightning speed, he slashed with his knife, "Swoosh!" Blood sprayed as the junior member's throat was instantly cut open. His eyes widened in shock, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. After a few spasms, he lay dead on the floor.
Carter did not stop!
He rolled on the ground and picked up an AK-47 lying nearby, his movements fluid and practiced as if he had trained on countless battlefields before.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Three shots fired!
The bullets tore through the air, hitting three nearby junior members squarely in the chest. Blood erupted as they fell without even having time to scream, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Only two remained in the room!
They stared wide-eyed in sheer terror, backing away with trembling hands, forgetting even to shoot.
"Fuck! This guy isn't human! Run—!"
But it was already too late.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two bullets, perfectly aimed at the head!
Brain matter mixed with blood splattered across the walls, and two bodies collapsed to the ground, their eyes wide open in disbelief, as if they couldn't accept that they had died just like that.
Inside the room, smoke filled the air, blood flowed freely, and the gunfire faded into silence.
Carter stood amidst the corpses, slowly lowering his AK-47 and exhaling a long breath.
He took a deep breath, the scent of death permeating the room—
The acrid smell of burnt gunpowder, the metallic tang of blood, the faint odor of decay emanating from the cooling bodies, and—fear.
Pure, intense fear.
His body trembled slightly, not from fear but from excitement.
These worthless beings finally experienced absolute terror in their last moments of life.
The look of horror in their eyes before death, their trembling hands, their retreating steps, and that silent wail trapped in their throats—all of it filled Carter with an unusual satisfaction.
This feeling was unlike anything he had ever experienced on the battlefield; it wasn't mere slaughter but an elimination of "failures," a punishment, a reckoning.
He closed his eyes, sensing the atmosphere within the room.
"Is there anyone else? Who else is there?"
He slowly raised the AK-47 in his hands, feeling the faint tremor lingering in the air.
Fear does not speak, but it seeps into the atmosphere, hiding in the shadows.
Something was lurking.
Carter turned his eyes, squinting as he aimed the gun at a dark corner.
"... Is there still a rat hiding?"
He stepped forward, his boots squelching in the blood on the floor, making a hissing sound with each step, as if he were pressing down on some invisible presence.
He approached a closed door, gently leaning his body to angle the gun at the doorknob. "Bang!"
The lock exploded under the bullet's force, and the door slammed violently against the wall as if it could not withstand such brutality.
Inside the room, a man cowered in the corner, hands clutching his head, trembling all over. There was no will to resist in his eyes, only helplessness and fear.
"Please... don't kill me... I beg you..."
Carter stood at the doorway, slowly aiming his gun at him, a cruel smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
"What are you afraid of?"
"Aren't you all just a cancer to this city?"
"Don't be afraid. I'm just here to eliminate you completely..."
He pulled the trigger.
Death descended silently.
As the last hiding man fell, blood slowly pooled on the floor, gathering into a small dark red puddle that reflected the dim light in the room.
Carter exhaled softly, his eyes devoid of hesitation or pity. These scum did not deserve to live in this world; it was merely a "cleaning."
He tossed aside the AK-47, the weapon hitting the ground with a dull thud, as if the last few bullets in the magazine sighed silently.
Carter flexed his wrist, twisted his neck, and then surveyed the entire room, beginning to carefully select his "spoils."
The place was filled with firearms, resembling a miniature armory. Various guns lined the shelves, and a few wooden crates stood half-open, stuffed with ammunition and tactical gear.
Carter's gaze swept over these weapons as he chose equipment suitable for himself.
First was the rifle—
He reached out and picked up an HK416D assault rifle from the shelf. This was an improved military version of the M4A1, boasting a higher rate of fire and more stable accuracy, ideal for tactical operations and individual combat—especially suited for Carter's close to mid-range firefighting style.
He pulled out the magazine to check it: 5.56x45mm NATO standard rounds, with a capacity of 30 rounds—perfect for his upcoming actions.
Next, he discovered a Glock 17 pistol on the table, a durable, stable, and reliable 9mm handgun. This weapon had saved his life countless times on the battlefield and would continue to do so now.
Carter skillfully racked the slide and attached a suppressor, which would make his movements even more discreet.
In addition to that, he found an M1014 semi-automatic shotgun for close-range suppression.
But what surprised him most was not these guns.
He crouched down and opened a wooden box in the corner. As the lid lifted, a rare smile appeared on his lips.
"Wow, this zero-cost haul is even better than I expected."
Inside, several M67 grenades and a few M18 smoke grenades were neatly arranged. These items were high-priced military arms on the black market, not easily obtainable.
"To have money and not take it, but instead to engage in some black-on-black... what a foolish decision." Carter shook his head, casting a mocking glance at the corpse of his boss before quickly gearing up.
He skillfully donned a high-grade bulletproof vest; this was not ordinary gang equipment but a genuine military-grade protective vest capable of effectively stopping rifle bullets and shrapnel.
He loaded magazines, a spare handgun, and grenades into the pockets of his tactical vest. Finally, he slung the HK416D across his chest, tucked the Glock 17 into the holster at his waist, and strapped the M1014 to his back.
Everything was ready.
He glanced down at his fully armed self, took a deep breath, and reached for a pair of black tactical gloves on the table, putting them on.
"The real show is just beginning."
He turned and strode out of the room filled with corpses and the smell of gunpowder, stepping into the darkness.
"Boom—!!!"
The night sky was illuminated by flames as a deafening explosion shattered the silence of the alley!
The entire underground structure collapsed like paper. A massive shockwave rattled nearby dilapidated buildings, shattering glass and sending metal doors flying. Dust and smoke violently swept through the entire block!
"Sizzle—!!"
The underground pipes burst open, and powerful jets of water gushed from the holes like a dam releasing floodwaters, instantly flooding the alley.
The gas pipeline erupted, and the flammable gas leaking out triggered a chain reaction with the remaining explosives—
“Boom!!!” “Boom!!!”
One explosion after another consumed everything. The ground trembled and collapsed under the force of the blasts. An old car parked by the roadside was flipped over by the shockwave, crashing into a nearby wall, then igniting and exploding, flames shooting into the sky!
Not far away, Carter sat in that car he had "acquired" from his boss, watching from a distance the hellish scene he had orchestrated with his own hands.
The firelight outside reflected on his face, casting a cold and calm expression.
He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag, filling his lungs with air mixed with gunpowder and burning scents. He closed his eyes and slowly exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
“Here, another place has been cleaned up,” he murmured to himself, his tone flat and devoid of any emotion.
Those rotten refuse, those gangsters' scum, these maggots hiding in the shadows of society—he no longer deemed them worthy of any chance.
What he aimed to do was to uproot these filthy places as if incinerating a garbage dump.
In the distance, the sounds of fire trucks and police sirens began to echo. The dark city finally realized its veins were bursting. However, Carter had already started the vehicle, pressing down on the accelerator. Illuminated by the flames, he glided into the night like a ghost.
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