Chapter 13: Unable to Withstand a Single Blow

 While the car was still turning, Ronan picked up an AK rifle and fired the first shot. The head of the guard on the rooftop exploded, and his body fell with a thud onto the concrete ground.


The other gunmen prepared to retaliate, but Ronan was much faster. He moved the AK's muzzle and fired short bursts, naming the smugglers one by one. Every bullet found its mark, hitting the smugglers in their torsos.


Ronan's rigorous training and the vigilance of a hunter allowed him to spot his prey faster and earlier. The six gatekeepers were brought down.


Ronan lowered his body, opened the car door, rolled out of the vehicle, and took cover behind the front wheel and engine. The gunmen returned fire, and the bullets rattled against the pickup truck. Many rifle rounds pierced through the two doors!


Ronan's AK rang out again, and a gunman hiding behind a door collapsed with a cry of agony. Another bullet exploded his head.


Another gunman behind the guardhouse got scared and threw away his gun, running toward the factory while yelling for help. Ronan showed no mercy and shot him down with two shots. His experiences, combined with the accuracy of a veteran's shooting and the expertise of a private's firearms, had made a qualitative leap in Ronan's marksmanship.


From the factory area came shouts in Spanish, "Who's there? Which gang?"


Seven or eight gunmen came out to check the situation.


Ronan wouldn't let such easy prey slip away. He emptied his magazine in one breath, and six more people fell to the ground.


"Enemy attack! We need reinforcements!" One gunman crouched behind a cement block, wailing, "They have fierce firepower, really fierce!"


He slightly exposed his head to look, and with a gunshot, a bloody hole appeared in his eye, and his entire brain exploded.


Ronan entered the factory and, using buildings and trees as cover, advanced toward the white small building.


"He's alone!" A bearded gunman suddenly emerged from a bungalow, raising his gun to prepare for suppressive fire, shouting, "Take him out..."


Before he could finish his words, Ronan fired three shots in quick succession, splattering blood behind him.


Someone else poked their head out from the door, wanting to assess the situation, but Ronan immediately targeted them, raising his hand and firing two shots, blowing off half of the person's head.


As long as anyone appeared within his field of view, Ronan could spot them instantly. The vigilance of a hunter allowed him to detect any deadly threat easily. His precise marksmanship and the alertness of a predator were a perfect match. Even if there were any omissions in his field of view, Ronan could evade them in advance.


These elite gunmen from the gang were unable to withstand a single blow before Ronan!


On top of the small building, a gunman crouched low, reached the edge of the rooftop, picked up a sniper rifle, adjusted the scope, and aimed.


Downstairs, another gunman wearing a black mask was clearing people out of the bungalows and didn't notice him.


With just one shot, he could take out this intruder! The gunman leaned against the wall as support, the butt of the rifle on his shoulder, and just as he brought his eyes close to the scope, the target suddenly disappeared into a blind spot. Before he could adjust the rifle, it was as if his neck had been hit by a speeding car, causing him to fall backward, accompanied by a crisp cracking sound.


It seemed like something had snapped.


He wanted to lift his hand and cover the wound on his neck, but he couldn't raise it no matter how hard he tried.


After clearing the bungalow area and reaping the soul fragments, Ronan proceeded towards the small building. Several luxury cars were parked in front of the building, and on the other side seemed to be a garage where the sound of engines roared from behind the large red garage door.


Ronan became more cautious as he entered the small building. On the first-floor corridor, two black-clad bodyguards pounded on a door, but there was no response from inside, only the sound of engines.


"Mr. Gonzalez!" The bodyguards diligently hammered the door and shouted, "It's dangerous now. We'll protect you and get you out of here!"


The other bodyguard cursed!


If they didn't leave now, they might not be able to leave at all!

The situation deteriorated too quickly!

Knowing that there was only one attacker, they didn't take it seriously. After all, they were having fun protecting their client, and their employer wouldn't appreciate being disturbed while playing games.


Who would have thought that the attacker was so incredibly powerful, taking out more than twenty gunmen all by himself.


They should be able to hold on for a while longer outside; they needed to leave quickly!

The black-clad bodyguards drew their guns and aimed around the door lock, preparing to force their way in.


The other bodyguard quickly drew his gun, turning towards the side of the corridor, ready to pull the trigger.


Bang! Bang! Bang...


Gunshots with echoes rang out, and the two bodyguards were riddled with bullet holes, falling to the ground.


Ronan darted out, keeping an eye out on all sides as he approached the door. Just as he arrived at the door, it creaked open, revealing a short, shirtless man who was taking off his earphones and rubbing his eyes. "What's all that noise?"


Then he smelled the scent of blood and saw the bodies on the ground, and he moved to close the door.


Ronan aimed his gun at him. "Don't move."


The man immediately raised his hands. "Don't shoot, don't shoot. What do you want? Take whatever you want!"


Ronan saw the luxurious furnishings inside the room. "Harvey Gonzalez?"


"Not me!" The man shook his head. "I'm not him!"


Ronan kicked him inside and followed. The television was connected to the earphones, playing a bloody and brutal romantic action movie.


On the coffee table was an M1911 pistol with gold and diamond inlays, and in front of it, a supercar's engine roared, with hoses attached to each exhaust pipe.


At the other end of the hoses were face masks, which were worn by four naked girls.


The girls' hands were tied behind their backs, lying askew on the carpet, showing signs of humiliation and abuse.


It seemed like what was playing on the TV was their situation...


Ronan silently activated his spirit vision, and a faint green halo floated above the four girls.


The people were already dead.


Judging from the dim color of the halo, they had been dead for some time.


Ronan composed himself and looked at the short man. "I'm looking for Harvey. Since you're not him, you can go and die..."


The short man saw Ronan about to pull the trigger and quickly said, "I am! I am Harvey Gonzalez!" He was afraid Ronan would shoot and pointed at a wallet on the coffee table. "There are documents inside."


Ronan approached, knocked Harvey down with the butt of his gun, and then took out a prepared nylon rope to securely tie him up.


Only then did he open the wallet and take a quick look, confirming the man's identity.


Ronan kicked Harvey. "Don't pretend to be dead. I want money!"


First, he needed to cover the expenses for the information from Demona, then there were the expenses for buying cars and guns, and carrying around US dollars cost money.


Harvey pointed his head forward. "There is money inside that cabinet. Take it all, just don't kill me!"


Ronan opened the cabinet and found a small leather bag inside. He tore it open and saw rolls of US dollars and Mexican pesos with the style of drug dealers.


Above the cabinet, there were hooks with five sets of car keys hanging on them. Ronan stuffed them all into the bag; they might come in handy later.


"There's a safe upstairs with money and gold!" Harvey tried to stall for time, waiting for someone to come to his rescue. Once news of the attack spread, the other gang members would come, and that would take at most twenty minutes.


He said, "You can also take the goods. There are plenty of them in the factory!"


Ronan ignored him and activated his spirit vision again. He gently touched the faint green halo above the bodies.


This represented the soul's aura, and it was thin, on the verge of dissipating at any moment.


As Ronan's hand touched the green halo, he felt a faint thought: Kill that demon, kill that demon...


He closed his spirit vision and dragged Harvey's legs, heading towards the garage. He took Harvey's phone, grabbed a hose and a mask.


Harvey's body and head kept colliding with the furniture in the house, and he cried out in pain, "Let me go, let me go, I'll give you the money..."


Ronan opened the garage door, glanced outside, and then brought Harvey to a Cadillac. He took out the corresponding key, unlocked the door, and tossed Harvey and the hose onto the back seat before driving away.


He also collected the soul fragments along the way.


Information flashed in his mind.


Fluent in French: The most proficient language of a dealer from France.


With his hands and feet tied, Harvey couldn't move, and he whimpered in pain. He kept talking, "As long as you don't hurt me, everything else is negotiable!"


Ronan didn't even turn his head. "You say one more word, and I'll shoot you right now. You can try it out to see if I keep my word."


Harvey immediately shut his mouth, feeling the stinging pain from the wounds on his body but dared not make a sound.


When they left the garage, he could see it clearly—corpses scattered all over the courtyard.


One person had killed so many people...


The Cadillac drove away from the corn processing plant, heading east for two hours. Seeing that no one was chasing them, Ronan casually turned onto a narrow road, meandering for a while, and then entered a depressed area where he stopped.


Dragging Harvey out of the car and throwing him behind it, Ronan took out a hose and connected it to the Cadillac's exhaust pipe.


Harvey panicked, "Please, don't do this, my friend. If you want money, I'll give you money! If you want goods, I'll give you goods! If you want women, I'll give you women! If you want gold and diamonds, I have them too!"


Ronan sat on a nearby rock, holding the mask, and said, "Don't be nervous. I just have a few questions for you."


Harvey, with his face covered in scratches, forced a smile, "Ask away, I know, I'll definitely answer."


"That's good." Ronan placed the mask behind him, "Let's not waste each other's time."


He asked directly, "Where is Antonio Garcia?"


"I don't know." Harvey immediately replied, "I haven't seen him in a long time."


Ronan shrugged, "See, that's the problem."


He took the mask, put it over Harvey's head, and the Cadillac engine continued to run...


After a moment, Ronan took off the mask, and Harvey coughed repeatedly, gasping for air.


Ronan said, "Antonio Garcia."


"I don't know! I don't know!" Harvey was afraid that Ronan would put the mask on again and quickly said, "I really don't know!"


Ronan picked up the mask and aimed it at Harvey's face, and the car's exhaust blew onto his face.


Harvey swore, "I really don't know! The last time I saw him was three months ago! He's been hiding this year, only occasionally appearing, and he only contacts critical subordinates by phone, changing the number every time..."


Ronan asked, "Why?"


Harvey didn't want to say, so when the mask was put back on his face, he sucked in the exhaust. When Ronan took it off, he breathed heavily for a while before gritting his teeth and saying, "When he received support and training from the CIA, he wanted to get rid of them after he became powerful, maybe he's afraid of CIA retaliation. Also, he seems to be looking for something..."


Ronan asked another question, "Isn't he afraid of CIA retaliating against Jessica?"


"How do you know?" Harvey thought he had kept it secret.


Ronan had learned it from the memory fragments of the big demon, Padi. He just stared at Harvey.


"When the CIA supported Antonio, they knew he had a daughter. There was no way to hide it, so instead of hiding like a rat, it's better to be a public figure." Harvey consoled himself. Anyway, he knew about it, and it didn't matter if he said it, "Jessica is a sweetheart in Mexico, one of the most famous singers, and she also has a lot of fans in the United States. Even if the CIA knows, they would consider the influence."


Ronan put that aside for now and asked, "What about the parchment book?"


Harvey looked at Ronan and immediately realized, "You're the Hound's son, aren't you?"


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