Amidst Qingpi's urging, Ronan took a few quick steps and approached the minibus. The burly man only then realized that the person who had come was dressed in work clothes, yet his face was unfamiliar.
Just as he was about to question this, he saw a flash before him, and his throat turned ice-cold. He couldn't utter a word.
Ronan swiftly shifted his position, closing the distance to Qingpi in just one step. Qingpi was still bragging to another worker, unaware that a dagger had already pierced his heart!
The other worker was about to shout when a large hand, like an iron clamp, gripped his neck. With a swift twist, his neck snapped.
Ronan's right hand flung the dagger, hitting the last worker who clutched his throat and fell to the ground.
Before the man even hit the ground, Ronan darted past, retrieving the dagger.
Then he emerged from the cargo hold and walked toward the office building.
Four individuals, armed and approaching from the office building, due to their line of sight, couldn't see the situation on this side.
As the two groups were about to pass each other, Ronan heard them speaking in Albanian. He rushed into the crowd, his dagger flashing like lightning, and all four collapsed, clutching their throats.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out from the office building, followed by angry shouts.
Ronan understood Albanian.
"Assembly! Assembly! All gunmen, come here!" the voice from the other side was loud. "Someone has kidnapped Marko! As soon as the boss has news, we'll depart immediately!"
The most elite gunmen of the Albanian syndicate dropped what they were doing, armed themselves, and headed towards the office building.
Ignoring the bodies on the ground, Ronan picked up a Romanian-made AKM and two magazines from one of them, then ran towards the office building.
People from different areas of the building and warehouse were gathering.
Ronan reached the flower bed made of bricks and stones across from the building. He stood in the shadows, blending into the night.
Numerous people passed by, but no one glanced his way.
In less than half a minute, a shrill whistle sounded. Someone nearby shouted, "Infiltrators are here! Someone's been killed over here!"
In the distance, many people ran towards that direction.
On this side of the building, more than fifty gunmen were assembling, their attention also drawn away.
Ronan leveled the AKM, aiming at the most densely packed area of the crowd, and pulled the trigger!
Ratatata—
Caught off guard, the members of the Albanian syndicate fell in a large number.
Ronan emptied the magazine, quickly reloading with a second one. His speed was such that the Albanian group couldn't react in time before he fired again.
"Who's shooting..."
The person who had called for assembly earlier only managed to utter half of his sentence before a bullet took off half of his head.
At such close range and with a surprise attack from behind, two magazines later, there wasn't a single person left standing in front of the building.
The most elite group of gunmen had yet to fire a shot before they were wiped out.
Ronan took cover behind the flower bed and simultaneously changed magazines.
A window on the upper floor opened, and someone exposed themselves, unleashing a burst of automatic rifle fire toward the vicinity of the flower bed.
Ronan had already moved to a distant location, lifting his gun and firing two shots. The person from upstairs collapsed onto the window, dropping their weapon onto a nearby corpse.
"There's someone over there!" someone shouted. "Hurry and provide support!"
People around started running towards this direction, though their numbers were not significant.
The most elite and organized gunmen were the first to arrive at the front of the building, only to be mowed down.
Ronan remained composed, scavenging a few more magazines, then took cover behind a truck.
The truck's high cargo bed and sturdy body shielded him from view from the building, providing temporary respite from being caught in a crossfire.
Facing a syndicate that dealt in drugs, human trafficking, and arms smuggling, Ronan had no intention of holding back.
He stood in the shadow of the truck, his fingers on the trigger, firing the AKM in controlled bursts.
Bang bang bang!
"Ahh—"
Gunshots rang out, followed by screams.
With every controlled burst, someone fell.
But before he could empty the magazine, Ronan suddenly felt an intense sense of danger. He accelerated abruptly, like a cheetah in full sprint.
The cheetah's swiftness granted him incredible startup and acceleration abilities. In a breath, he had taken cover behind a large tree more than twenty meters away.
Bullets struck behind him, sparking on the concrete ground and nearby vehicles.
Something flew out of a window in the building. By the time Ronan spotted it, it had already collided with the truck he had been hiding behind.
Boom—
A massive explosion deafened the surroundings. The truck was blown into pieces, flames soared into the sky, and the shockwave sent debris flying in all directions.
Ronan took cover behind the tree, a word flashing through his mind—RPG!
He couldn't help but curse, "These lunatics! They actually have a rocket launcher!"
Sensing danger again, Ronan dashed out, turning his gun towards the remembered window, firing shot after shot.
The burly gang member who had picked up the rocket launcher, after taking several hits, collapsed inside the room.
These Albanians were of average strength, merely on par with standard gang gunmen. But under Ronan's gunfire, their losses were severe.
Ronan kept changing positions, firing controlled bursts without pause. Anyone daring to come to this side for support was promptly detected by his predator-like awareness, and his deadly accurate marksmanship sent them back to their origins.
While he was firing, the sense of danger struck again. Ronan sprinted at an incredible speed. Flames illuminated a window; a light machine gun was mounted on the windowsill, unleashing a torrent of bullets!
Ronan dared not expose his flesh to the metallic onslaught. He took cover behind a stone statue, pinned down and unable to lift his head!
"Die!"
On the second floor, Murad shouldered a rocket launcher, aiming it at the statue.
In the darkness, a figure dashed out.
Murad fired the rocket.
Boom—
An explosion soared into the sky, shattering the statue!
"Again!"
Murad reached back, and another subordinate handed him a rocket launcher.
In the chaotic land of Province 93, abandoned by France, he had free rein. At worst, he could gather a few people afterwards and hand them over to the security agency.
The debris and dust from the shockwave left Ronan looking disheveled.
As the light machine gun reloaded its ammunition belt, he turned around and fired, blowing off the gunner's skull.
Then, he shot to suppress the rocket launcher's firing window and ran towards the building.
These bastards had heavy weaponry! They were daring to use it so recklessly; surely there was a powerful French faction backing them!
Long-range combat was too disadvantageous!
Ronan swiftly circumvented the front of the office building and reached the blind corner on the side. With a leap, he used the windowsill to propel himself onto the second floor.
"Where is he?" Murad urged his men. "Hurry! He's in the building! Go out and kill him!"
Four gunmen ran out of the room, joining another four gunmen, and together they guarded the corridor, cautiously advancing.
They were extremely cautious, well aware of the strength of that gunman!
Passing through the elevator area, Ronan arrived at a corner. He took a quick look outside and saw eight fierce Albanians in the corridor.
This was the spot!
As Ronan dashed out, he opened fire with reactions and speed far quicker than an average person. The eight individuals hadn't reacted at all before they screamed and collapsed into a pool of blood.
"Are they dead?" someone inside the room questioned.
Ronan approached the suite door and knocked with the butt of his gun.
Boom—
The shotgun blasted through the wooden door, hitting the opposite wall and leaving a dense pattern of holes.
Boom! Boom!
Two more gunshots sounded, and the door trembled on the brink of collapse.
Ronan picked up the AK, aimed at the lock position, and fired a burst of shots.
On the other side, undaunted, they counter-fired with the shotgun through the door!
Amidst flying wood splinters, the door couldn't hold any longer and crashed down with a bang.
Ronan dropped the empty AK, pulled out Marco's phone, and tossed it into the room!
Murad saw the dark object flying in and thought it was a grenade. He sprinted towards the bedroom of the suite.
Ronan burst into the room from outside, firing his handgun in rapid succession!
At such close range, he definitely wouldn't miss!
The first shot hit Murad's arm, causing Murad's shotgun to fly out.
The second shot hit Murad's leg, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Ronan shouted, "Don't move!"
The moment his voice fell, a black blur swished past.
Reciting the mantra "Steel Claw," Ronan's left hand shot up and grabbed it. The dark figure he caught was actually a whip.
With a loud bang, Ronan's gunshot pierced through Murad's hand as he held the whip.
"If you want your son to stay alive, obey me!" Ronan spoke like a supervillain, tossing Marco's ring in front of Murad. "Mourad from Zopaga!"
Seeing the familiar ring, Murad didn't make any sudden moves. Marco was his only son! He had just received news that the Paradise Street base, where Marco was located, had been slaughtered, and Marco's whereabouts were unknown. He was currently gathering manpower, waiting for the cooperation of the French security agency to provide leads so that he could rescue his son.
Little did he expect that even before he received any information from the security agency, the captors had already come knocking at his door!
Ronan pressed the gun against Murad's head. "Where are the girls brought from Bilen Island recently?"
Murad was taken aback. The events on Bilen Island were shrouded in secrecy...
"You don't have to talk," Ronan pulled out his phone. "Once I dial this number, your son will lose a hand! You've seen the French guillotine, haven't you? In a maximum of one minute, your son will become nothing more than a 'human stick' just like a guillotined victim!"
Murad had only one son. "The person was taken away! They took him away!"
"Greynorman will take delivery in five days!" Ronan declared.
Seeing Ronan about to make a call, Murad quickly added, "It's true! The person was taken away ahead of time! Grandma Xiang and Obyamin are hosting a celebratory party tomorrow night. They are presenting the person to the dignitaries as a gift!"
Hello everyone,
If you enjoy reading this novel and want to read 5 Chapters ahead of schedule, then please join my Patreon.
Or Consider donating! at Paypal or Ko-fi.
Your support is greatly appreciated
Comments
Post a Comment