Receiving a call from Demona, Ronan was driving towards Tijuana at breakneck speed. Half an hour ago, he had refueled at a gas station, and everyone around, including him, received a text message from the telecommunications company.
The message was concise: Generous Jose plans to ambush Tijuana's top madam tonight!
Ronan knew this could be a trap, an attempt to draw him out using Demona. But without hesitation, he turned his car around and headed back to Tijuana. Demona had helped him before!
The imposing silhouette of Tijuana appeared ahead—a neon-flickering border city that had likely claimed numerous lives.
Perhaps this journey was a one-way ticket.
But just like eliminating the CIA assassin, Ronan would have no regrets.
Tijuana nights were never short of gunfire, and tonight would be even more lively.
He parked the car at the city's edge, arranging his firearms and gearing up.
Primary weapons: an AK from a reputable manufacturer with three magazines; a Glock 22 with two magazines; a matte military dagger.
After a brief preparation, he drove into the city. Before he reached the red-light district, intense gunfire echoed from ahead.
Already in a firefight?
Ronan donned his helmet, abandoned the car, and proceeded on foot. Gang members guarded every major and minor intersection leading to the red-light district.
Approaching a nearby intersection, he leaped, using the wall for support, and gracefully landed on a rooftop by the roadside.
Dashing across uneven rooftops and walls, Ronan moved like he was on level ground—swift and silent.
Flashing and maneuvering, much like a leopard hunting in the forest.
He cleared a seven to eight-meter wide street with a single leap from the wall, effortlessly.
As he neared the red-light district, gang shooters were congregating. Ronan hid in the shadows on a rooftop, listening carefully to the distant gunfire. The intense exchange of gunfire suggested a fierce battle between two sides.
At the street corner, Diaz held an AK, vigilant towards the outskirts of the red-light district.
Beside him, Scarface carried his gun on his shoulder, saying, "Can't sleep. So many of us on night watch, all for one person..."
Diaz tossed him a cigarette, saying, "You complain too much."
With his gun slung over his arm, Scarface was about to light the cigarette when suddenly a hand covered his mouth from behind. His neck felt a sharp pain, attempting to breathe but failing.
He tried to shout, but a black figure appeared unbelievably fast. In the blink of an eye, it was in front of him!
What's in his throat? So cold? Scarface collapsed.
Ronan sprinted to the left, turned the street corner, and as the shooter leaning against the wall blinked, he felt a flash of darkness and immediately lost his breath. He heard the sound of rushing water in his ears.
Another shooter patrolling with his back to Ronan turned around, but before he could raise his gun, a hand pressed his gun arm down, and an icy sensation spread over his chest.
Someone emerged from a diagonal alley across. Ronan drew his knife and flung it, and the person clutched their throat, collapsing.
Before the person hit the ground, Ronan rushed over, retrieved his knife, and entered the alley.
His knife brushed past the throat of a person who was about to raise their gun, then Ronan pushed off the ground with his foot, grabbed the edge of the wall with one hand, and was back on the roof.
A few steps brought him to another alley. He was getting close to Demona's bar.
Dozens of shooters were lying in ambush in the alley!
As expected!
The plan to kill Demona was a trap!
Ronan sheathed his knife, quickly unslung the AK from his back, and leaped onto a vantage point. The AK unleashed a burst of flames!
Bang bang bang—
A dense rain of bullets showered down!
Those gunmen had intended to set an ambush for others, but they didn't anticipate being ambushed from above. Under Ronan's rapid gunfire, many of them didn't even have a chance to scream before their heads were blown apart.
"Someone in the south alley!" A shout came from a car not far away. "Go for backup!"
Ronan took a step forward, aimed at the car, and fired two shots in quick succession. The person in the front passenger seat had half of their head shattered, and fragments landed on the driver's seat.
As the person dodged to the left, the gun barrel turned right, firing in rapid bursts!
Four people coming from the north side of the street hadn't even spotted Ronan's figure; they screamed and fell to the ground.
With mental alertness, Ronan lightly touched the ground with his foot and effortlessly leaped several meters away. Amid the successive gunfire, bullets shattered many roof tiles.
Ronan's gaze was sharp, a predator's alertness enabling him to accurately spot a person on the second-story rooftop dozens of meters away.
In a flash of movement, the AK fired three shots in rapid succession, and the person screamed as they tumbled down the building.
Changing positions swiftly, the gun barrel fired bullet after bullet, each accompanied by a scream!
Occasionally, the gunmen retaliated, but their bullets couldn't even graze the dust kicked up by Ronan trailing behind him.
Ronan's speed was extraordinary, maneuvering and changing directions continuously. In the midst of evading his opponents' firing paths, his gun never stopped. After every bullet, someone on the other side would fall.
With a running start, he leaped to the other rooftop.
Mid-leap, he had already changed the magazine of the AK.
Before he even landed, he fired again. Two gunmen who had just shown themselves in the darkness had their skulls blown apart!
Ronan stepped on the edge of the wall, his momentum strangely not pushing him forward, but instead launching him into a diagonal jump.
Bang!
Sparks flew from the rooftop ahead.
A gunman wearing a beret on the rooftop of a church at the edge of the red-light district had set up a sniper rifle.
This person was called Mario, a former sniper in the anti-drug special forces. He joined Jose's group after splitting from the police when Jose and Gustavo went their separate ways.
There was just no way around it, Jose was offering too much!
There were too many precedents of senior officers turning to drug trafficking groups. Mario didn't feel any shame.
In Mexico, wasn't being an anti-drug special forces officer just a stepping stone to joining a drug cartel and earning a hefty salary?
"Take him out, Mario!" Jose's voice came through the earpiece.
Mario didn't reply. Through his scope, the person he was aiming at moved like a cat, so agile that he couldn't keep the target in his crosshairs.
No, not a cat. More like a high-speed running leopard, capable of unbelievable turns, pauses, jumps, and rolls.
Mario was patient, waiting for the opponent to sprint on the rooftop. He calculated the lead accurately and fired a shot.
The shot missed!
Mario was almost incredulous. The opponent suddenly paused without any buffer, evading the bullet and changing direction, running towards the church!
"Damn it!" Mario thought. The distance was considerable, he had the advantage, and he wasn't in a rush to retreat. He prepared to take another shot.
Through his scope, he saw the person changing direction while sprinting and raising the gun barrel.
Crack—
The scope shattered, and a bloody hole appeared in Mario's eye socket. A large hole opened at the back of his head.
He crashed onto the rooftop, the earpiece still echoing, "Mario! Mario..."
Ronan confirmed that he had taken out the sniper, jumped down from the rooftop, and scavenged suitable magazines from the bodies of several gunmen. He walked deeper into the winding alleys.
Jose's group had set an ambush on the red-light district, deploying many gunmen.
Regular gunmen were no match for Ronan; he always spotted them early and fired with exceptional speed and precision, bullets hitting their mark accurately.
This alley Ronan was traversing led to Demona's bar.
On the main street of the red-light district, inside a black car guarded by more than ten people, Jose couldn't reach Mario. He pressed the communicator and spoke over the radio to his trusted subordinate: "Andrew, he's in the alley. Take your men and kill him!"
In just a moment, at least ten of his men had died at the hands of Ronan!
Andrew in the alley immediately responded, "Boss, ten minutes!"
He waved to a few others. "Come with me!"
The main target was here. They could surround the bar and hold off for a while. It was better to deal with the main target first and then address this side.
Under the cover of night, ten people ran toward the depths of the alley, moving at an unnatural speed.
A window on the third floor of the alley creaked open. Gunfire erupted from both sides simultaneously. The red-haired woman fired her shotgun, hitting Andrew directly.
The white-haired woman's submachine gun poured out a barrage of bullets onto these ten individuals!
All ten were hit, blood spurting from their bodies, but they didn't fall!
This situation that exceeded common imagination momentarily stunned the red-haired and white-haired women. They were just ordinary people, naturally surprised.
Andrew smiled at the two women and retaliated with gunfire.
The others also started shooting.
The two middle-aged women were shot repeatedly and tumbled out of the window.
Andrew and his group reached the bodies, biting legs, arms, and necks. As they inhaled copious amounts of blood, their wounds rapidly healed. Even the bullets embedded in their bodies were pushed out.
On the second floor of the bar, Demona wielded an AK, shooting down one gunman and slamming the empty magazine onto the ground.
"Idiots! Imbeciles! Brainless fools!" She heard the commotion outside, along with shouts from Jose's group's gunmen intentionally trying to distract her. She knew Ronan had returned, engaging Jose's men not far away. Unable to hold back, she cursed, "I let you go, but you had to come back to die!"
After reloading the magazine, she picked up the AK and unleashed a fierce barrage of fire, venting her anger onto Jose's group's gunmen.
Someone nearby screamed, and a middle-aged woman took a bullet to her neck, twitching on the floor.
Their combat prowess was limited; they suffered heavy casualties in every encounter.
Demona felt it: she was going to die today!
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