After following Camilla for nearly half an hour, Rock finally arrived at a run-down little shop on a filthy, chaotic street.
Along the way, he witnessed several robberies carried out with knives or guns.
The criminals acted however they pleased, completely unchecked.
As he walked down a street lined with homeless people, Rock kept one hand pressed against the pistol tucked into his waistband.
The people around him were giving him hostile looks.
He did not feel any better until he entered the shop and shut out their stares.
“Jacaré, I have three phones.
Hurry up and deal with them for me.”
Camilla entered the shop and placed the three phones on the counter.
A bronze-skinned man with a thin mustache sat behind it.
He looked up with a cold smile and quickly examined the phones.
“Sure.
I’ll take one of them as payment.”
“Damn it, Jacaré.
Karina says seeing you always reminds her of a vampire.
Now I understand what she means.”
Camilla complained openly, clearly familiar with the man.
Jacaré noticed Rock standing behind her and looked at Camilla in surprise.
“You little wildcat actually found yourself a rich foreigner?”
Camilla gave Rock an apologetic glance before turning back and shrugging.
“I’ll admit that foreigners can be rich, but Locke definitely isn’t.”
“Oh?
Then he must be very strong,” Jacaré teased.
Camilla ran her tongue around her lips without denying it.
“Yes.
Locke is the strongest man I’ve ever seen, Brazilians included.”
Jacaré gave Rock a surprised look.
He had not expected Camilla to think so highly of him.
Rock was not paying attention to their conversation.
With one hand resting on the grip of his pistol, he kept a wary eye on the vagrants stumbling around outside.
The entire area felt dangerous.
After some haggling, Jacaré chose the phone in the best condition as his payment and unlocked it.
He set the other two aside to wipe their systems.
Camilla chatted idly with him while he scrolled through the unlocked phone’s previous owner’s messages.
Every now and then, Jacaré glanced at Camilla and Rock with a strange look in his eyes, but Camilla failed to notice.
Rock had just begun to relax when he heard a rapid series of footsteps approaching along the street.
His instincts immediately warned him that something was wrong.
He leaned out through the doorway and took a look.
Seven or eight shirtless men were charging toward the shop from the far end of the street.
Two wore tactical vests, and all of them carried different firearms.
They were still over a hundred meters away.
“Camilla, move!”
Rock drew two Glocks from his waistband.
Jacaré, who had been chatting with Camilla a moment earlier, rolled behind the counter and dove into the back room.
“Damn you, Jacaré!
You sold us out!”
Camilla kicked the counter furiously.
Leaving behind the two phones still being wiped, she followed Rock out of the shop.
The moment Rock stepped outside, he emptied half a magazine toward the approaching gunmen.
At a time like this, striking first was all that mattered.
Even if he missed, the gunfire would at least slow their advance.
The shots sent the gunmen diving for cover along the walls.
Their smooth, practiced movements made it obvious that they were accustomed to street shootouts.
Even so, a ding sounded in Rock’s mind.
He had gotten lucky and hit someone, but there was no time to check the reward.
“This way, Locke!”
Camilla motioned for him to follow her into a narrow alley barely wide enough for one person.
The instant Rock entered, bullets tore into the walls and pavement behind him.
He had no idea how many homeless people were caught in the crossfire.
Rock could not afford to care.
His own life was in danger, and he had no time to worry about anyone else.
Besides, those people had hardly looked harmless themselves.
He followed Camilla through the foul-smelling passage and was about to turn into another alley when he suddenly stopped.
“Camilla, keep going.
I’m heading back.”
“Oh, Locke, we have to run!
They have too many guns!”
Camilla was frantic.
She knew Rock carried three Glocks and several magazines.
But they were only pistols.
She had glanced back before entering the alley and seen that several of the men carried rifles fitted with large drum magazines.
Handguns could not compete with that kind of firepower.
Yet Rock had already turned and returned to the mouth of the alley.
“Locke, what are you doing?”
Camilla stared at him anxiously.
“Catching them off guard.”
Rock had already made up his mind.
Whether he killed one man or ten made little difference now.
He could not keep running forever.
They had guns, but so did he.
He was not going to let them chase him through the streets without fighting back.
Judging by their behavior, surrender would not save him either.
Entrusting his life to a group of unpredictable gangsters was far too dangerous.
The narrow alley formed a natural chokepoint, allowing one person to hold off several attackers at once.
He might as well make his stand here.
All three pistols were fitted with 33-round extended magazines.
While firing earlier, Rock had also realized that each Glock 17 had been equipped with a full-auto conversion device.
The modifications effectively turned them into fully automatic pistols similar to Glock 18s.
That gave Rock much more confidence in his counterattack.
While replacing the half-empty magazine with a full one, he glanced at the glowing screen in his mind.
The earlier ding had come from a lucky hit.
One of his stray bullets had struck a gunman, earning him a 50-point experience card.
Under normal circumstances, using it on Kung Fu would have offered the greatest value.
But with another life-or-death fight about to begin, even a slight improvement in accuracy could change everything.
Rock added the fifty points to Pistol Shooting.
Pistol Shooting: intermediate (92/400)
A faint current flowed through his body.
The pistols immediately felt more natural in his hands.
The experience had not been wasted.
Returning to the alley entrance, Rock looked around and spotted a security grille on the second floor to his left.
There was just enough room for someone to crouch on top of it.
He tucked both pistols into his waistband, stepped back, and leaped.
His hands locked around the bars more than three meters above the ground.
Once he had settled into position on top of the grille, he saw six gunmen running toward the alley in a tight group.
Rock kept himself hidden.
When they entered pistol range, he hooked one foot around the grille to anchor himself.
He leaned partway out and opened fire with both Glocks.
The gunmen were focused entirely on the alley ahead and never noticed Rock above them.
A stream of system notifications rang through his mind as all sixty-six rounds from the two Glocks poured into the six men below.
The street suddenly fell silent.
Only a few spent casings could be heard bouncing across the pavement.
Rock looked back and found Camilla staring at him in shock.
She had actually returned after hearing the gunfire.
He had no idea where she found the courage.
Rock had no time to talk.
The shooting was over.
Now it was time to collect the spoils.
He cautiously loaded fresh magazines into both pistols and scanned the surrounding area.
There was no sign of anyone trying to sneak up on him.
He tucked the weapons back into his belt.
With the fabric of his pants between them and his skin, the hot slides were bearable.
Rock quickly climbed down from the security grille.
He needed to search the bodies before the money, weapons, and everything else became soaked in blood.
From above, he had already seen blood spreading across the pavement.