"Bernie, look out~~~"
Anthony shouted, but it was already too late. A hail of gunfire erupted.
Just as Avril landed from the window, she drew a handgun from the back of her waist. M9 rounds burst forth with flashing muzzle fire, instantly killing two people.
Bernie instinctively dove to the ground. A bullet whizzed just above his head—he narrowly dodged death. But his nearby companion wasn't so lucky. The moment the shots rang out, his body collapsed with a thud—a bullet had pierced his forehead.
Two more were shot in quick succession before Avril swung the muzzle back toward Bernie. His miraculous dodge had mildly surprised her, but no matter—one more shot would fix that.
Bernie had no weapon. Staring death in the face again, he rolled to the side, dodging a few more shots before yanking a corpse toward himself as a shield.
The gunfire continued. The corpse shook violently from the impacts, and then Bernie suddenly heard a click-click sound.
The woman's gun had jammed.
Now's my chance!!
Bernie, moving at top speed, yanked a pistol from the corpse and raised it to fire.
Strike while the enemy's weak~~~
But his gun only fired once before Avril kicked it out of his hands. Her reflexes were blisteringly fast—she had noticed the jam immediately and charged into the crowd, making it impossible for anyone to fire without risking friendly casualties.
Avril moved with lethal grace. Clad in black leather, she looked slender and elegant, but her strikes carried surprising power. Bernie took two hits straight on, then a brutal kick sent him skidding backward.
She didn't stop. Avril lunged toward another man. Within seconds, she locked his wrist and twisted it, causing him to drop his gun. A dagger flashed into his throat.
A guttural sound came from the man as his body crumpled. Bernie knew he had no chance to grab a weapon—she was too fast, too precise. The woman's accuracy was also deadly—every previous kill had been a clean shot to the forehead. There was no way he could let her rearm.
Avril halted her movements abruptly and rolled backward to avoid Bernie's fire. His shots forced her to retreat—barely.
Bernie sprang up, hoping to press his advantage, but froze as a flash of white streaked past his face. A gleaming knife zipped by, embedding itself in the wall behind him with a thud, still vibrating from the impact.
Shit~~~
Bernie broke into a cold sweat. That knife had passed within a centimeter of his scalp, slicing a few hairs.
As the number two in Cruel Angel, Bernie wasn't some pushover. Like Anthony, he was a defector from MI5 and was no stranger to life-or-death combat.
But this woman was something else entirely.
Not only did she possess strength rivaling any man's, but her reactions and adaptability were inhumanly fast.
In the brief moments Bernie had been occupied, Avril had nearly killed everyone else. Though it had been three men surrounding her, Bernie felt like they were the ones in danger.
Every time someone tried to shoot, she maneuvered so cleverly that her enemies couldn't fire without risking hitting their own. Under pressure, the three men quickly lost the upper hand. One of them had his neck chopped with a hand strike.
He didn't die immediately, but it was only a matter of time. Bernie had clearly heard the crack of his windpipe breaking.
After dispatching the first, Avril backed up a few steps to create space, then launched two powerful kicks at the second man.
The first kick drove him to his knees. The second shattered his shin with a sickening crack, the splintered bone piercing his skin like a white blade. His screams filled the air.
She ignored him, turning her gaze toward the third. He was already scared out of his mind. As she looked at him, he howled and turned to flee.
But she flicked her foot, launching a dagger into her hand. She slit the second man's throat in passing, then flung the blade into the third man's back with a practiced flick.
Triple kill.
Bernie was terrified—he admitted it to himself. He couldn't take this woman alone. He turned toward Anthony, ready to call for a retreat, only to see Anthony's lifeless eyes staring back at him.
Anthony was dead. The last thing Bernie saw was the Asian man—Zheng Anshun—kicking Anthony square in the chest, sending him flying. He crashed to the ground like a ragdoll. From Bernie's angle, he could clearly see the spot on Anthony's chest collapse inward.
Anthony lay on the floor, blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes still fixed on Bernie, but lifeless.
Nooooo——
Bernie screamed inside, refusing to believe it. But his training kicked in, forcing him to stay calm.
Now Zheng Anshun from the front room and Avril from the back advanced on Bernie. He tried to raise his gun—flash!—pain shot through his hand. A bullet had punched clean through his palm. The Glock clattered to the floor.
Bernie staggered back, biting through the pain. But behind him was only a wall—no escape route.
One Avril was bad enough. Add Zheng Anshun, and it was hopeless.
His foot hit the wall. Nowhere left to run.
The two advanced, emotionless. Just as Bernie steeled himself for a final stand—
CRASH CRASH! Two glass-shattering sounds rang out. Two flashbangs tumbled through broken windows, clattering to the floor.
BOOM BOOM!! Twin explosions shook the room. Outside, Owen and SWAT had just prepared to breach when intense gunfire erupted from one side of the house.
Shit!
Ash cursed loudly and signaled his team to take cover. Why the hell is there a machine gun? This isn't a warzone!
Bullets rained down like a storm, ripping across the entryway they had just reached.
They had moved in quickly. Initially, they had planned to scout the area, but upon hearing gunshots inside, they switched to a full assault. Unfortunately, the enemy had hidden a machine gunner.
The new guy—who had questioned Owen earlier—was hit in the thigh before Heat yanked him back behind cover. If not, he would've been torn to shreds.
Benjamin lay on the ground in shock. If Owen hadn't tackled him just in time, he'd be dead. No bulletproof vest could've saved him from that kind of firepower.
"Th-thank you…"
Benjamin stammered.
Owen ignored him, instead shouting across the chaos: "Did you get a visual?!"
Heat responded, "Clear as day! Three o'clock! M249! No doubt about it!"
"I'll count to three. I'll draw fire, you hit him!"
Owen shouted to Heat, who gave an OK gesture.
One.
Two.
Three.
Owen shot up and sprayed bullets wildly toward three o'clock. As soon as the gunner turned his sights on Owen's position, Heat stood and aimed at the spot they had marked.
But the second the enemy entered his scope, Heat felt a sharp pain—then a powerful force slammed into him. He flew backward.
"Man down! Man down!!"
Monica screamed, dragging Heat by the legs back behind cover. Ash yelled, "Watch 11 o'clock! Another rifle!"
Owen slammed a fist into the ground. Who would've guessed the enemy had another shooter covering the machine gun? Their perfectly timed maneuver had not only failed—it got Heat shot. And no one knew how bad it was yet.
As SWAT scrambled under fire, the machine gunner suddenly shouted,
"Hey SWAT! Hand over your monthly votes! And those recommendation tickets! Or else—!!"
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