North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 634 - 352: What Should We Do Next?_2
"I'm very distressed."
He slowly stood up. "Can any of you tell me what to do now?"
The crouching hostages were as silent as the grave. Three seconds later, a loud BANG from a gunshot echoed through the large underground room.
A Black researcher, eyes wide, slowly touched the bullet hole in his forehead with a delayed reaction. His nerves conveyed one last message: You're dead!
"AAAAAH!"
The scream had just begun. BANG! Another gunshot rang out.
The screaming woman crumpled to the floor. A 9mm bullet, capable of penetrating 6mm of uniform steel, tore through her open mouth and blew a large hole in the back of her head. Splinters of skull, along with still-warm blood and brain matter, sprayed across the shiny porcelain tiles behind her in a fan-shaped mural of gore...
BLECH!
The scene assaulted their senses. Fear couldn't suppress the visceral nausea coiling in their stomachs.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three shots rang out in quick succession.
Three more bodies, each belonging to someone of respectable social status in the outside world, slumped to the ground.
Any courage the hostages had left to resist evaporated. The madman before them wasn't just insane; his marksmanship was terrifying. They couldn't imagine how, in this relatively peaceful era, someone could have developed such precise, ruthless, and rapid shooting skills. Even if each of them were given a handgun, this madman could still slaughter them like chickens.
Watching the crowd, now like ostriches with their heads buried, Qian Feng nodded in satisfaction. As he ejected the empty magazine from his pistol and slammed a fresh one in, he said nonchalantly, "Good, it's finally quiet. Now, does any of you have a way to broadcast the situation here to those damn TV stations?"
No one dared to speak.
Just as Qian Feng's gun was raised again, the chubby Chinese supervisor, who had been shot in the arm earlier, saw the muzzle pointed in his direction. Ignoring his fear, he quickly stood up and spoke rapidly, "If the radio stations don't pick up the signal, or if they do but don't broadcast it, there's nothing we can do. However, they can't control what the public knows! If people find out what's happening here, those damn politicians won't be able to cover up the truth!"
He swore he had never spoken so quickly in his entire life.
After he finished speaking, the chubby supervisor felt his legs go weak from standing up so suddenly. He was on the verge of collapsing but dared not move a muscle, his eyes fixed on the madman before him in a desperate plea.
Now, he deeply regretted his decision to stay in this godforsaken country.
Damn it.
This was downtown Los Angeles, one of the largest economic hubs in the world.
To think terrorists could storm a school and slaughter elites like us as if we were pigs and dogs!
Were those fat-headed sheriffs, the FBI, and school security all completely useless?!
If I can just get out of here alive!
I swear, if I make it, I'll hate the United States for the rest of my life!
As the supervisor waited in an agony that stretched minutes into years, praying for the final verdict, Qian Feng pondered for a few seconds and then nodded. "Try it. You make the arrangements."
WHEW.
It wasn't just the supervisor; almost everyone else simultaneously let out a heavy sigh of relief.
They had survived, for now.
「 」
The laboratory was well-stocked with all sorts of materials. The researchers, all highly educated, quickly got the hang of tasks they'd never performed, like operating radio equipment. Guided by their colleagues, they began frantically broadcasting signals...
Seeing them work harder than any prostitute he'd ever encountered in the Vietnamese Mafia, Qian Feng sneered. After rigging complex detonator traps at the room's entrance and exit, he headed for the surveillance room.
From the moment he arrived, he had no intention of returning to Vietnam alive. The Americans wouldn't let him live, and having disrupted the Vietnamese Military's operation, they wouldn't spare him either.
Qian Feng's only remaining obsession was to vent his fury.
He would tear off the United States' hypocritical mask before the eyes of the entire world, humiliate it thoroughly, and ensure the world would never forget!
Thinking about that moment, a flicker of softness, almost a smile, touched Qian Feng's hard features.
If I were still in my homeland, I might have made it onto the first page of the family genealogy.
Heh heh...
Suddenly, an overwhelming tremor, like a bullet striking his very nerves, shot through Qian Feng. It was a warning, and every muscle in the battle-hardened thug's body tensed.
The next instant—BOOM!
With a muffled roar, a shadowy figure shattered the threshold of the automatic alloy door. It crossed the ten-meter distance in a flash, looming over Qian Feng like an enormous, sky-blotting bear.
Qian Feng strained, trying desperately to see his attacker's face.
A large hand, trailing a fierce gust of wind from its sheer speed, was already descending upon his face.
GET LOST! Qian Feng inwardly roared, struggling to fight back.
But an irresistible force slammed into him from the palm covering his entire face, yanking him off the ground and casually tossing him aside.
Before Qian Feng could even register what had happened, excruciating pain flared from every joint in his body.
A soft SNAP.
Qian Feng—who moments before had seemed like the Grim Reaper to the researchers—thudded to the ground like a boneless heap of meat, motionless.
Even Qian Feng, a man who had killed countless times, felt an icy dread creep into his heart.
Who is it!
What kind of monster is this!
I couldn't even make out their shadow before being slammed to the ground!
The most terrifying part was that my muscle and bone density far exceeded a normal person's. I weigh over two hundred pounds, yet in the enemy's hands, I was like a helpless infant, utterly unable to resist.
And that single jolt—it was clearly an incredibly skillful application of force.
Just a light touch, and all the tough bones in my body were dislocated, as if I were a limp snake. I can't even twitch!
AAAHHH! Qian Feng screamed frantically in his heart.
Are the heavens themselves protecting this disgusting nation?!
Why?!
Why did my kind, ambitious sister, who studied so diligently here, have to meet such a cruel fate and die with her eyes open in injustice?!
Why can a bunch of thieves possess so much advanced technology, exploit the entire world, hold guns in one hand while preaching freedom with the other, instigate wars at will, and use the suffering and toil of others to fund their so-called 'superior' lives?!
Damn it, I refuse to accept this!
His face pressed against the cold floor, Qian Feng couldn't speak. Only the violent trembling of his muscles and the hot tears streaming from the corners of his eyes betrayed the volcanic rage erupting within him.
THUD. THUD.
Heavy footsteps approached, finally stopping at the edge of Qian Feng's limited field of vision. From this angle, he could only see the tips of his opponent's shoes. The enemy who had so effortlessly crushed his resistance now stood still, seemingly sizing him up.
Are you trying to humiliate me? Qian Feng's anger burned hotter.
After more than ten seconds, an icy, mechanical voice reached his ears. "Qian Feng?"
"HUFF!!!" His jaw dislocated from the impact, Qian Feng could only manage choked grunts.
Dean observed his reaction, then tapped his own head and lightly tapped his foot.
With a soft CLICK, Qian Feng's dislocated jaw was skillfully popped back into place.
He tried to lift his head, to see his enemy's face. But unfortunately, the cunning bastard had only restored his ability to speak.
Left with no alternative, Qian Feng endured the immense pain from his dislocated joints and gritted out, "Who exactly are you, and what do you want?"
I've already realized that this terrifying enemy might not be one of those politicians' lackeys. Otherwise, having already captured me, they wouldn't be wasting time here!
Dean tapped a finger against the alloy skull mask covering his face and grinned.
What do I want to do?
Of course, I'll use this chance to kill Saul—I've wanted him dead for ages—and while I'm at it, boost my own status and make some capital here in Los Angeles.
In fact, Dean hadn't expected to infiltrate the underground laboratory so easily, nor to encounter his target by such a coincidence and take him down with such little effort.
After subduing Qian Feng, the dangerous premonition that had been constantly grating on Dean's nerves vanished. This instinct was astonishing. It meant this Qian Feng probably hadn't completed his plans yet.
The nuclear crisis was essentially averted.
Since things are going so smoothly... how should I play this next?
