The shattered marble floor was covered with bullet casings, the brass gleaming coldly in the moonlight like scattered gold coins.
Oil paintings on the walls were torn by bullets, the eyes of the nobles in the portraits now bullet holes, staring hollowly down the corridor.
The smell of blood mixed with gunpowder stung his nostrils.
In the distance, sporadic gunshots still echoed, killers hunting each other, screams and roars rising and falling.
Zhang Jie leaned his back against the wall, breathing heavily.
"Two bullets…"
He lowered his head to check his glock 34; the magazine had only two bullets left.
"Damn it!"
Adrenaline still boiled in his veins, and the pain in his wrist reminded him that Razor Woman's blow had nearly crippled his right hand.
"Calm down… I must calm down…"
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep breaths.
John's voice echoed in his mind:
"The first lesson of a killer isn't Shooting, it's calmness and judgment."
When he opened his eyes, Zhang Jie's gaze had become sharp.
"Breakout route…"
East wing staircase: collapsed, blocked by rubble.
Central hall: killers in a melee, covered by firepower.
West corridor: temporarily quiet, but there are bodyguards patrolling at the end.
"West side… I'll take a gamble."
Zhang Jie moved along the base of the wall, each step precisely avoiding the broken glass on the floor.
"Ten meters… five meters…"
Around the corner, a bodyguard was adjusting his walkie-talkie, his back to him.
"An opportunity!"
He approached silently, drawing his tactical dagger with his left hand—
Pfft!
The blade precisely pierced the back of the neck, severing the spinal cord.
The bodyguard fell silently, the walkie-talkie slipping from his grasp.
Zhang Jie caught it, and a static current sound came from the earpiece:
"East sector cleared… Have you found the target?"
Without hesitation, he replied directly.
"Not yet."
"Keep searching!"
He quickly searched the body: an MP5 submachine gun (12 rounds remaining in the magazine), two fragmentation grenades, and two spare magazines.
"Finally, some firepower…"
Just as he stood up, he heard the sound of glass shards being crushed behind him, very faint, but Zhang Jie heard it.
Click.
The sound of a shotgun being cocked.
Zhang Jie rolled sideways abruptly!
Bang—!
The shotgun blast shattered the wall where he had just been standing, sending debris flying.
A burly man in a gas mask emerged from the shadows, his pump-action Remington 870 still aimed at his chest.
Zhang Jie dodged backward again; this was trouble, a wide-area attack!
"Found you, little mouse."
"Damn it! …Trouble."
The burly man sneered, his finger pulling the trigger.
"Goodbye."
In the nick of time, Zhang Jie threw his dagger!
Swish!
The blade embedded itself in the burly man's gun-wielding wrist, and the shotgun went askew.
Bang!
The bullet went wide, exploding on the other side, fragments grazing Zhang Jie's ear and making his eardrums ache.
Cold sweat immediately poured out, but he couldn't worry about that now.
As the burly man prepared to reload, he immediately raised his MP5 and sprayed bullets!
Da da da!
Three-round burst, blood splattering from the burly man's back.
But the burly man didn't fall! Instead, he roared and swung his shotgun, rushing to smash Zhang Jie!
Madman!
Da da da!
Da da da!
Another burst, turning the burly man into a sieve.
"Die!"
Blood bloomed, this guy was indeed a legendary HP tank, still not falling immediately after all that.
The burly man staggered backward, blood oozing from beneath his gas mask.
Zhang Jie gave him no chance, aiming the MP5 at his forehead.
Da! Da! Da!
The finishing shots.
The body crashed to the ground.
Only then did Zhang Jie realize his back was completely soaked.
Too exhilarating!
He hadn't noticed that his Shooting had quietly reached Lv3!
His close combat was also nearing a breakthrough.
He had broken through in battle, but now was not the time to study these things.
He casually unloaded the empty MP5 magazine and replaced it with a new one.
30 bullets.
Zhang Jie took a deep breath and continued forward!
Using the information from the walkie-talkie, he kept moving towards the west wing, encountering several skirmishes, all resolved without major incident.
Zhang Jie also had some minor wounds on him, not serious, but slightly affecting his movement.
The gunshots within the old castle had become sparse, indicating that not many people were likely left alive.
The thought of Oriska treating them like livestock filled Zhang Jie with rage. Damn him!
Don't let me find you!
Half an hour later.
He finally reached the west wing courtyard.
Zhang Jie pushed open the iron gate of the west wing courtyard, and the overwhelming smell of blood almost suffocated him.
The moonlight, like water, quietly fell, illuminating this hellish scene.
Bodies.
Bodies lay haphazardly, piled by the fountain, on the steps, in the flowerbeds; blood gathered into dark red streams, slowly flowing along the drains.
Some bodies had half their heads blown off by shotgun blasts, brains and bone fragments sticking to the stone pillars.
Others had their throats slit by daggers, their wide-open eyes still frozen in terror.
Still others had their comrades' weapons impaled in their chests, clearly having killed each other in the melee.
"Lunatics…"
Zhang Jie cursed under his breath, tightening his grip on the MP5.
Oriska never intended for anyone to leave alive.
The so-called "survival game" was nothing more than a meticulously designed slaughterhouse.
The fountain in the center of the courtyard had long since dried up, replaced by several fresh corpses, one of which was still wearing a waiter's uniform, with a number tag pinned to its chest, "No. 7."
Zhang Jie remembered that this guy had laughed the most wildly in the banquet hall, but now he lay like a rag doll in a pool of blood, his throat neatly cut.
"Looks like someone got here first…"
He vigilantly scanned his surroundings, the MP5's muzzle moving with his gaze, ready to fire at any moment.
Suddenly, his gaze locked on a corner of the courtyard.
When did this happen?
James Bond was confined in an iron cage.
Even this top MI6 agent had his moments of disarray.
The Brit leaned against the cage, disheveled, his suit already tattered, and the wound on his right arm still oozing blood.
More critically, an electronic collar was around his neck, with red digits counting down:
[00:04:32]
"You're still alive?"
Zhang Jie approached quickly, lowering his voice.
James looked up, a hint of fatigue flashing in his grey-blue eyes, but a smug British smirk still played on his lips: "Apparently, Oriska thought I died too easily."
Zhang Jie frowned, his gaze sweeping over the iron cage, forged from steel, an electronic lock, no keyhole.
"Can it be opened?"
James pointed to the electronic lock on the iron cage: "Deal with this first, otherwise as soon as I get out of the cage, I will…"
He mouthed "BOOM."
Just then, the castle's broadcast suddenly blared, Oriska's voice laced with mockery:
"Congratulations, final survivors! But the game rules have been updated: the winner must kill everyone! The five-minute countdown begins!"
Zhang Jie and James exchanged glances.
"Damn it…" Zhang Jie gritted his teeth, "This old bastard is playing with us."
James suddenly laughed: "The watch."
"What?"
"That watch on your wrist." James pointed, "Throw it to me."
Zhang Jie then remembered that before James was locked in the iron cage, James had thrown him a wristwatch.
He didn't hesitate, directly took off the watch and threw it through a gap in the iron cage.
James caught the watch, his fingers quickly sliding across the side of the dial a few times, and the dial suddenly popped open, revealing a tiny laser emitter.
Zzzzz—
A blue-white laser beam precisely cut into the electronic clasp of the iron cage, and the pungent smell of melting metal permeated the air.
A few seconds later, the clasp was severed by the laser, and the electronic lock was also destroyed.
James pushed open the cage door and walked out.
-----------------------
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