He quickly followed the man who resembled James towards the side door of the hall, while also remaining wary of him; despite their brief encounter, he knew he couldn't fully trust him.
Three corpses lay in the shadows of the side door, their electronic shackles still counting down.
"My name is James; we can cooperate for a short time." The man searched the bodies and found some useful items: a silenced Pistol and several room cards.
"These room cards might come in handy," the man whispered.
Just as the two were about to act, a burst of gunfire erupted in the hall.
It turned out that several guests, in order to fulfill Rule One, had already begun to slaughter each other, but in reality, would anyone truly follow the rules?
The people in the hall scattered.
"We can't wait any longer."
Zhang Jie gritted his teeth and went upstairs with the man.
Their goal was to find Oriska and complete the mission.
Just as they were about to go upstairs, a dark figure rushed down the stairs, a dagger in his hand thrusting directly at Zhang Jie.
Zhang Jie quickly dodged to the side, simultaneously drawing his tactical dagger to fight the opponent.
No time to draw his Pistol!
Zhang Jie's right hand had just touched the Pistol grip when the blade was three inches from his throat.
He sharply leaned back, the Razor slicing through his suit tie; the silk tie snapped instantly as if cut by a hot knife through butter.
Fortunately, he dodged in time, but the sharp blade still made his Adam's apple feel cold.
"Fuck you—"
Before he could finish swearing, the dark figure's second strike was aimed at his heart.
Zhang Jie blocked with his left arm, and his tactical dagger swung from his waist, clanging against the Razor. In the instant sparks flew, he saw that the opponent was wearing the same bronze-colored mask as the assassins downstairs.
James crashed in from the side, his elbow smashing hard into the masked man's temple.
With the crisp sound of the mask cracking, the three tumbled down the stairs in a heap.
Zhang Jie's back hit the edge of a step hard; his bulletproof suit lessened the impact, but a sharp pain still shot through his back.
"Three seconds," James's voice boomed in his ear.
Zhang Jie knew what that meant.
He had to finish the fight within three seconds, otherwise reinforcements would arrive from upstairs.
He bent his knee, thrusting it into the masked man's abdomen, who was on top of him, while simultaneously stabbing his right-hand dagger at the opponent's knife-wielding wrist.
Pfft—
The dull thud of a blade entering flesh.
Blood spurted from the masked man's wrist, but the dagger didn't fall from his hand; the guy bit down on the falling blade with his teeth and turned his head to slash at James's throat.
Bang!
"You're welcome!"
?
Before Zhang Jie could say anything… Bang!
A bullet whistled past Zhang Jie's ear, exploding into a shower of fragments on the stone wall.
He suddenly rolled to the side, his back hitting the oak wainscoting of the corridor, splinters piercing the collar of his bulletproof suit.
Hiss~!
That really hurts!
Three meters away, the gunman wearing a bronze-colored mask was peeking a gun barrel around the stairwell corner—an Uzi submachine gun, 9mm caliber, firing at 950 rounds per minute.
Too fast.
Zhang Jie's glock 34 had just been raised when the masked man pulled the trigger.
Da! Da! Da!
Three bullets in a triangular formation blocked his movement; one shattered the oil lamp above his head, and hot glass shards rained down on his shoulder.
The second embedded itself in the carpet at his feet, the third… "Get down!"
A dark figure lunged from the side, and Zhang Jie was violently pushed away.
A bullet hit the dark figure's right shoulder, but the dark figure's speed didn't decrease, directly pulling Zhang Jie to hide around the corner.
It was that show-off who called himself James.
James grunted; his clothes were bulletproof, yes, but it still hurt!
His left hand, however, remained as steady as a rock, raising a Walther PPK, its suppressor spitting out a faint blue flame.
Puff!
A bullet hole appeared in the masked man's forehead, and his body rolled down the stairs, the Uzi clattering with a series of metallic sounds on the steps.
Zhang Jie scrambled up, gasping for breath, and only then realized that the edge of the corridor was rigged with sharp steel wires; if he had instinctively retreated just now, his Achilles tendons would have been severed.
"Rule Four," James said, his voice steady as he checked his shoulder, "all traps are designed against the killer's muscle memory."
Zhang Jie stared at his blood-stained cufflink, which was engraved with tiny symbols.
"Fuck!" He finally reacted, "You're James Bond?!"
The Englishman's mouth twitched: "Only asking now?"
A dull grinding sound of gears suddenly came from the ceiling.
Both looked up simultaneously, seeing the chandelier chain slowly descending, with at least six infrared aiming points reflected in the crystal prisms.
Damn! More mechanisms!
"Run!"
They rushed towards the nearest room, the roar of machine gun fire echoing behind them.
Bullets chased their heels, embedding themselves in the oak floor, splinters scattering like landmine fragments.
James kicked open the carved door, and Zhang Jie slid in right behind him, shattered stone and wood splattering behind him like buckshot.
But inside the room, it was all smoke.
He instinctively raised his left arm to protect his face, his right hand's glock 34 already pointing at any potential target that might appear opposite him.
"Cover!" James's voice was exceptionally clear amidst the lingering gunfire.
Zhang Jie didn't answer; he just pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three bullets pierced through the smoke screen, exploding into a bloody mess on the chest of the first bodyguard-dressed person who rushed in.
The 9mm hollow-point bullets tore a cup-sized hole at the edge of the bulletproof vest's protection, and the man fell backward.
"Go!"
James led the way forward; he was more familiar with the place than Zhang Jie. Zhang Jie followed closely, retreating and Shooting.
Bullets whistled through the narrow corridor, shattering oil paintings and wall lamps on both sides.
The crystal chandelier crashed down, exploding into a shower of glass behind them.
"Left turn!" James suddenly stopped, grabbing Zhang Jie's tactical vest.
Zhang Jie could almost feel a bullet whizzing past his nose.
At the end of the corridor, three bodyguards advanced in a tactical formation, their MP5 submachine gun fire sealing off the entire passage.
"Fuck!" Zhang Jie pressed his back against the wall, quickly changing his magazine.
The crisp sound of the metal magazine hitting the floor was drowned out by the gunfire. "Do you still have your pen bomb?"
James shook his head, pulling a small metal ball from his inner suit pocket: "Flashbang, three-second delay."
Zhang Jie understood, took the metal ball, pressed the raised button on it, counted two seconds in his head, and then tossed it around the corridor corner.
The blinding white light and 170-decibel blast instantly incapacitated the three bodyguards.
They knelt on the ground, clutching their ears, their eyeballs uncontrollably tearing up from the intense light stimulation.
The two rushed out like leopards.
James delivered a precise knife-hand strike to the nearest bodyguard's Adam's apple; the man immediately suffocated and fell, then was finished off with another shot.
Zhang Jie, meanwhile, pressed his glock against the second bodyguard's chin and pulled the trigger—the most effective close-range Pistol method, as the bullet would pass through the soft palate directly into the brainstem.
The third bodyguard barely managed to raise his trembling MP5, but James had already pressed his PPK against his forehead and kicked his gun away.
"Where is Oriska?" the Englishman's voice was cold.
The bodyguard's pupils dilated with fear, his lips trembling: "East… East Wing study…"
Puff!
After the muffled sound of the silenced Pistol, the body slowly slid down.
"He's lying."
The two continued to advance towards the West Wing, using a "slicing the pie" tactic at each corner; Zhang Jie was responsible for observing high threats, and James for low traps.
Zhang Jie checked his remaining ammunition: 12 rounds left in his glock, the spare magazine empty.
His tactical dagger was still at his waist.
His bulletproof suit had a slit on the right shoulder from a dagger, but the Kevlar fibers were intact and could still withstand a few more hits.
"There's a laser sensor here…"
"I'll count to three."
James had already adjusted his wristwatch, "Run with my rhythm, absolutely no stopping."
Zhang Jie nodded, his muscles tensed like a drawn bowstring.
Since you are James Bond, then your words are correct!
"One, two—"
James raised his Pistol and fired at a sprinkler head on the ceiling; the fire sprinkler system at the end of the corridor was activated, and in the mist, the laser beams temporarily failed due to a change in refractive index.
"Three!"
The two shot out like arrows from a bow.
Zhang Jie could feel bullets almost grazing his heels as they embedded into the floor, wood splinters flying.
The thirty-meter corridor felt as long as a marathon, his lungs burning from lack of oxygen.
Just as they were about to reach a safe area, a dark figure lunged from the side.
Zhang Jie instinctively dodged, the cold glint of a Razor flashing past his throat.
It was a killer!
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T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
There should be... around 20+ advanced chapters?
[email protected]/TripleCrown
If you guys wanna check it out.