Dusk was settling in.
The sky over Watson Northside was painted a murky, turbid orange-red.
“Boss, the kid turned in up ahead.”
Sunglasses slowed the car down, pointing at an open shutter door ahead.
It was an abandoned warehouse with a desolate entrance overgrown with weeds.
He had seen with his own eyes that olive-green Thorton Galena drive into the dark warehouse.
“Don’t go in.”
The bald guy stared at the pitch-black warehouse entrance, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Huh?”
Sunglasses paused in surprise.
“We’re not chasing?”
The bald guy’s voice was firm: “This kid led us here all the way—there’s definitely an ambush.”
The two SUVs pulled over outside the warehouse, and the 6th Street members got out one after another.
The bald guy stared into the darkness, constantly feeling like something was hiding inside—like a lurking beast quietly waiting for its prey to deliver itself.
Vroom—
The roar of engines echoed from the distance.
Everyone turned their heads at once.
Three SUVs painted with stars and stripes swerved in from the intersection, the crunching sound of tires rolling over gravel echoing continuously before they all pulled up neatly alongside them.
The doors swung open, and over a dozen people stepped out.
Leading them was a burly man with a full beard, a head taller than the bald guy, with shoulders as broad as a door.
He wore a polished leather vest that exposed two tattoo-covered arms.
His left eye was a crimson military cybereye, glowing with a dark red light in the dim environment.
“Brick.”
The bald guy recognized the newcomer, barely pushing himself up from the car: “What brought you here?”
“Heard you got beat up by a little punk?” Brick walked over, looking down at the wound on the bald guy’s chest.
“Whoa, that’s a nasty hit.”
“That kid’s no joke,” the bald guy said through gritted teeth.
“He…”
“Alright, alright.”
Brick patted the bald guy’s shoulder.
“Take a rest.
I’ll take my crew in and drag that kid out.”
“There’s an ambush inside!”
The bald guy grabbed Brick’s arm tightly.
“Be careful.”
Brick looked down at the hand, then up at the bald guy.
“Relax.”
“There’s nearly thirty of us.
That kid is dead meat—not even God himself can save him, mark my words!”
He shook off the bald guy’s hand, turned back to yank a light machine gun out of an SUV, and racked the bolt with a sharp clack.
The dozen or so men behind him raised their weapons as well.
Brick led his men up to the shutter door.
Inside was pitch black; nothing could be seen clearly.
He narrowed his eyes.
Before his crimson cybereye could automatically switch to night-vision mode—
Vroom—!
A violent engine roar exploded without warning.
Two blinding beams of light tore through the darkness, shining directly onto Brick’s face.
Brick instinctively raised a hand to block his eyes.
Dusk was already dim, and facing straight into the glare, he squinted, desperately trying to make out what was behind the light beams, only to see a brilliant white haze.
“Playing mind games!”
He raised the light machine gun in his hands, pointing the barrel toward the lights.
Whatever was behind there was going to get a taste of his firepower first!
Just then…
Behind the beams of light, a dark shadow slowly rolled forward.
Dark grey armored body, oversized wheel rims, the “K.B” and “43” custom decals painted on the side…
…and two towering military-grade machine guns mounted right on the front hood.
Gulp~
Brick swallowed hard, his throat bobbing up and down.
He recognized it.
Those were Militech MK.31 heavy machine guns.
Vehicle-mounted variant, three hundred rounds per minute firing rate, with enough armor penetration to punch right through light armored vehicles.
He suddenly felt like the light machine gun in his hands was as laughably pathetic as a toy—even the barrel felt soft.
“Uh…
hey…”
Brick forced an awkward smirk, his feet unconsciously stepping backward: “My bad, got the wrong guy.”
He turned, attempting to bolt.
But the only response he received was the blazing muzzle flash of the guns.
D-d-d-d-d-d-d—!
Two tongues of fire spewed out simultaneously, as a dense stream of bullets carved two brilliant arcs through the twilight.
Brick had barely taken half a step before his upper body directly exploded under the hail of gunfire, blood mist and shredded flesh splashing all over the ground.
The SUV behind him was hit by over a dozen heavy rounds at once, its fuel tank detonating on the spot.
BOOM—!
A towering fireball erupted into the sky.
Debris showered in all directions as a wave of heat carrying the stench of scorching air blasted outward.
“Fuck!
Open fire!
Open fire!”
“He’s got an armored vehicle!”
“Fuck him up!”
The remaining 6th Street members finally snapped back to reality, raising their guns to fire frantically toward the inside of the warehouse.
Bullets poured out like a torrential downpour.
Just as Brick had said, there were nearly thirty of them, wielding firepower no less intimidating than a machine gun.
Yet facing such an onslaught…
…Jake had zero intention of dodging.
Bullets pelted against the windshield, producing dense, crisp clangs.
David had thought today was the end for him, staring in terror at the vehicle’s windows, but he couldn’t find even a single hairline crack.
“The bulletproof performance on CrystalDome isn’t half bad…” Jake boasted, feeling rather pleased.
It was well worth driving all the way out to Watson Northside.
David froze for a moment.
CrystalDome?
The armored display screen technology from Militech?
He had seen documentation about this in Arasaka Academy’s internal files.
The windows appeared transparent, but in reality, the vehicle’s exterior was covered in a layer of high-strength bulletproof armored screen, providing full visual transparency while completely withstanding small arms fire.
This car…
Only then did David realize.
Mounted military machine guns, CrystalDome armor, driving all the way north…
this guy knew this car was parked here from the very beginning?!
Of course Jake knew.
“I’m in Love with My Car”—the very first armed sports car players could acquire for free in 2077.
Ever since he left David’s apartment, he had held a “let’s give it a shot” mindset and come to Watson Northside to look for it.
Not only was this car bulletproof…
…those two high-rate-of-fire military machine guns dealt heavy damage with left click, and even higher damage with right click!
Compared to risking his life against 6th Street in person, mowing them down directly using this car’s machine guns was by far the easiest solution.
Moreover, it was worth a fortune.
An armed sports car was worth at least seventy thousand eddies at minimum.
Translating that…
…that was over 500,000 RMB, instantly covering the full cost of the medical surgery!
Next, as long as he wiped these guys out and sold the car to El Capitan, he’d be filthy rich!
The moment he thought of this…
…Jake clicked the mouse with even greater enthusiasm.
Under his control, the two machine guns on the car went into a wild frenzy of spraying, their tracer lines weaving an airtight web of firepower across the twilight sky.
The Type 66 “Hoon” charged out from the warehouse like a beast released from its cage.
An SUV tried to make a U-turn and flee, only for a volley of heavy rounds to punch right through its hood, destroying the engine on the spot as the chassis swerved violently into oil drums by the curb.
“I surrender!
I surrender!”
A 6th Street ganger dropped his gun, dropping to his knees and raising both hands.
The response he got was a full burst of heavy fire.
The bald guy lay flat on the back seat of his SUV, watching through the half-shattered rear windshield as his men were mowed down like wheat.
He looked up, gazing toward David in the driver’s seat.
That young boy looked back at him expressionlessly.
In his eyes, there was no fear, no anger—only a vast, empty void.
Like looking at a corpse.
D-d-d—!
Bullets struck his chest and abdomen simultaneously.
The bald guy’s body shuddered violently before collapsing straight onto the ground.
[All Hostile Targets Eliminated]
Looking at the prompt popping up on the screen, Jake let out a long sigh of relief: “Now 6th Street shouldn’t be able to find the killer.”
Bullshit.
You killed every single one of them!
Beyond his internal snark, David looked at the scorched earth littered with corpses before him, his heart trembling with fear.
Is this the consequence of provoking an evil spirit?