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This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 370.1: The Chips Stained In Blood
Chapter 370.1: The Chips Stained In Blood
After Old White Spoke, his right index finger had already flicked the safety off his rifle.
The more than 20 players from the Burning Corps beside him did the same.
The undisguised killing intent caused Iron Thorn to slightly narrow his eyes. "Hey, wait, is there some misunderstanding here?"
Cold sweat seeped from his forehead as he raised both hands, stepping back while trying to defuse the tense atmosphere. He didn't know where he had offended this guy, but his instincts told him that those people standing before him were extremely dangerous.
"No."
This time, Iron Thorn finally understood the words of the man in front of him. His eyes were consequently filled with deep fear.
"The New Alliance never negotiates or trades with plunderers. Every penny you make can turn into a bullet fired at civilized people." Ample Time removed Dawnbreaker strapped to his back and simultaneously pulled out an arrow. Nocking the arrow, he continued, "So, the deal is off. Since you believe in bullying others, let’s see how strong you really are!”
"You really talk too much!" Iron Thorn, who had retreated to a safe distance, roared. A fierce light flashed through his eyes and he yelled, "Fire! Kill them!"
However, The symphony of machine guns did not sound.
Instead, it was a gunshot like sudden thunder, cutting short his premature glee.
At a window nearby, the man lying before a machine gun had his head burst into a cloud of blood before falling to the ground.
At the same time, the assault rifles held by the players were already aimed in his direction.
"Fire!" Old White crisply issued the command to fire, pulling the trigger at the same time.
Ratatatatata.
The muzzles spewed long tongues of fire, orange-yellow projectiles burst forth, completely tearing apart the quiet street.
Iron Thorn and a few of his men were torn to shreds by the bullets, falling before they could even groan.
Everything happened in an instant. The gunmen hired by Edmund were caught completely off guard by the sudden gunfire.
However, their response was swift.
From the windows of the cinema’s second floor, rifles soon appeared. They began firing back at the players below.
Unfortunately... They were facing the New Alliance’s Tier 0 combat strength.
On the battlefield of West Continent Municipality, those players had already endured countless tests. Their combat prowess had been forged through the rain of iron and flames. All of them toed the line of death. How could a bunch of brutes even threaten them?
Whether in terms of tactics, combat will, or proficiency in street fighting, both sides weren’t even on the same level.
The players skillfully spread out, quickly locking onto the cinema's outer firing points and returned fire in coordinated volleys.
Although there were about 100 gunmen inside the cinema, they were suppressed by the attack of just over 20 players. They couldn’t even peek their heads out.
That wasn’t even including the sniper on a nearby building. He was popping any heads that dared to peek out of their hiding spots.
Even if not every gunshot resulted in a death, the uncertainty of when death might strike imposed a tremendous psychological pressure on them.
2 gunmen tried to shut the reinforced door. However, an arrow whizzed passed them and exploded, causing shrapnel to scatter all around.
The explosion killed them instantly.
Simultaneously, a drone folded its rotors and dove from the skies. It entered the second-floor window with a buzzing sound like wasps flapping their wings.
A deafening explosion came next.
Orange-red flames rolled out from the dark windows, blowing up a great amount of gravel and dust, along with bits of stone and concrete from the partially collapsed outer wall of the building.
The slaves crouched inside iron cages on the ground floor, shivering in fear.
The guns which were firing from the second floor were silenced.
The narrow space intensified the power of the blast wave.
The Switchblade that fell from the sky was completely beyond the gunmen's expectations. Most of them were either killed instantly or left dazed by the explosion.
"Prepare to attack!" Seizing the opportunity, Old White raised his left fist and made a crisp forward gesture, leading the charge.
The 3 squad members by his side followed closely, charging at the main entrance. The other 4 teams of 4 also did the same. They spread to the flanks of the first team to cover them on both sides.
It didn’t take long for the door to be breached. Next came their ascent.
Dense gunfire broke out from bottom to top, as those stopping them were killed one after another. Dead bodies tumbled down from above.
They stormed up to the second floor.
Old White held his rifle horizontally, issued the order to clear the area, and continued to lead his squad forward.
The 5 teams that entered the second floor meticulously searched every corridor, every hall, every seat, and every corner. A gunman leaning against the wall stumbled as he tried to escape through a safety passage, only to run into a group of muzzles.
Peepo roared the second they saw the man, “Drop your weapon!"
However, the gunman ignored him, even attempting to return fire.
Seeing persuasion was useless, Peepo didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. He sent the man off with a burst of bullets.
Looking at the body lying in a pool of blood and the smoking muzzle, Peepo cursed, "Fuck! I was speaking in his language... Does he not understand?!”
A prisoner could at least be traded for some contribution points and silver coins.
A body could only be used to gather Active Matter.
"Maybe he was deafened by the Switchblade earlier." Kidney Warrior spoke up beside him.
"... Uh, that makes some sense."
On the other side, having completed the clearance of the northern area, Ample Time tapped his earpiece, reporting the situation.
At the same time, reports from other teams also sounded over the communications channel.
"West side room is clear."
"East side room is clear."
"Hallway under control."
"Found the operating room... 3 doctors present, one suspected to be Edmund."
"Wait for me there." After he spoke. Ample Time opened his GPS to confirm the location on the map and rushed to the operating room.
When he arrived, a tall, thin man was already standing with his hands raised, having retreated from beside the operating table to the corner.
He was wearing an apron stained with blood and grease. It was exactly like those worn by chefs.
Next to him were a man and a woman, also dressed similarly. They were likely his assistants, who also wore expressions of fear.
The previous explosion and the series of gunshots had nearly scared them to death.
On the operating table lay a boy, about 12 or 13 years old. He was well-built as if he frequently engaged in physical labor. However, his breathing was very weak. It was like a candle in the wind.
Ample Time noticed a fresh cut on his left abdomen.
Feeling the increasingly intense murderous intent in the eyes around him, Edmund stuttered...
"I... I didn't tie him up here..."
"So he volunteered?"
"I paid money!"
"How much?"
"50... No, not just 50! I gave 300 as a tribute to Mr. Wester, the second-in-command of the Dagger Gang. This kid lives on his street."
Ample Time had heard of the Dagger Gang, that was about it. However... It was not the time to discuss this. freewebnøvel_com
He looked at the boy on the operating table, then at the man in front of him.
"What's his condition now?"
Edmund spoke nervously, "The-the operation had some complications... The bomb you just threw caused my hands to shake."
Ample Time growled, "Can he be saved?"
Edmund's expression was ugly as he replied, "Yes, there is... But he probably needs a new pair of kidneys."
Looking at the translation on his device, Old White said nothing.
He glanced at his teammate beside him, taking a suitcase from his hands and placing it on a metal stand next to the operating table.
Under Edmund's astonished gaze, Ample Time continued, "Put them in. When you’re done, we'll discuss what happens to you."
Edmund glanced at the suitcase, a hint of distress flashing in his eyes.
Those are mine!
But the grim barrel of the gun left him no courage to utter any complaint. He only dared to curse at those unreliable bastards who allowed their enemies in.
He swallowed nervously and nodded. "Okay, okay..."
The surgery went relatively smoothly and the boy's breathing gradually stabilized.
Although the effects of the anesthesia had not completely worn off, he had regained a bit of consciousness.
Edmund and his assistants were taken outside the operating room by Old White and his men right after.
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