{600 Power Stones bonus chapter }
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First Floor.
An enforcement squad kicked open the door to a storage room.
At first, they thought—just like before—it would be another empty room.
But the moment the door flew open, two round grenades, with pins ripped free, rolled right to their feet.
"Shit!!"
The entire squad only had time to curse once before panic set in. They dove blindly in every direction.
But it was pointless…
Boom! Boom!
Two explosions.
Of the six men—three were killed instantly, while the other three lost a leg or were mangled beyond use.
Screams. Wails.
The cries echoed across the first floor.
The noise drew the attention of the other two squads nearby.
They halted their sweep, turned back, and rushed to treat the wounded…
Second Floor.
Ten squads had moved up, three of them peeling off to sweep the second floor.
When they kicked open the restaurant doors, the same trap awaited them—two grenades dropped to their feet.
No pins.
Boom! Boom!
Four dead instantly. Two more maimed.
And the seven or eight killers following close behind were left staggering, their heads ringing, ears screaming.
But compared to the squad on the first floor, these men were far less lucky.
Because—while they clutched their ears, groaned in pain, or struggled to regain focus…
Anna was already waiting.
She leveled her Coharie CA-415 automatic rifle.
Ratatatat!
She unleashed without restraint, emptying a full magazine in seconds.
In the narrow corridor, the battered enforcers—stunned, half-deaf, or bleeding—had no chance to dodge or react.
The already-injured dropped dead on the spot.
The rest collapsed, bleeding out on the floor.
Anna reloaded calmly.
She walked forward step by step.
Bang. Bang.
Each time she shoved the rifle barrel into a killer's mouth, a shot finished the job.
In the blink of an eye, three entire squads were wiped out.
Underground Parking Lot.
After Fox finished her slaughter, she shut off the hydrant.
As the water stopped spraying, she heard footsteps echoing in the garage.
She crouched, slipped behind a car, and fixed her gaze on the entrance.
Soon enough, three more squads entered from the vehicle ramp.
Fox shifted sideways, ducked behind a concrete pillar, and silently counted down:
"5… 4… 3… 2…"
When she reached "1," she stepped out.
Right into the rear of the formation.
Boom!
A shotgun blast ripped one man apart.
Clack! Chambered.
She kicked down the next in line.
Boom!
Another kill.
By now the front-line killers had realized what happened.
They turned, rifles up, aiming for Fox.
Adrenaline Surge!
Suddenly, in Fox's vision, their movements slowed to a crawl.
She bent low, slipped behind the fourth man, and used his body as a human shield.
Clack! Boom!
She finished off the one she'd kicked earlier.
Ratatat!
Bullets screamed from the rifles of over a dozen killers.
But every shot slammed into the unlucky shield in her arms.
In seconds, the poor bastard's back was riddled with sixty, seventy holes. He collapsed, dead weight.
Fox seized his rifle, shoved his corpse into the crowd, and opened fire.
Ratatatat!
She swept left and right, mowing down two more as she closed distance.
Bang! Bang! Two clean shots crippled another's arms, leaving him helpless.
She pulled him into her grasp—another shield.
A rifle butt smashed into one more opponent.
Clack! Boom! Shotgun at her left.
Bang! Bang! Handgun on her right.
Clack! Boom! Another kill.
A knife whipped free from her shield's belt, hurled into an enforcer's throat.
Clack! Boom! A final shotgun blast ended another.
Then she slammed the butt of her shotgun into her human shield's gut. He buckled.
Clack! Boom! She fired past him, blowing apart a man charging in.
Using the corpse as cover, she flipped over it in a blur, crashing into the enemy line.
Adrenaline Surge, again!
Time slowed.
Lightning reflexes—disarm, seize, fire!
Ratatatat! Bullets cut down the men ahead of her.
A sharp knee strike dropped one with a scream.
Clack! Boom! Boom! Two more deaths.
Fox tore off her armored suit, dashed toward a nearby row of cars, and slid behind cover.
She had killed ten in a breathless storm.
But the toll was clear—her stamina was draining fast.
Three squads had come in.
Eight enforcers still stood.
She knew—she couldn't overpower them head-on any longer.
Fox began a fighting retreat, every move measured, each step calculated for survival…
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