American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 106 Fighting
Beta gripped his pistol and charged into the complex.

The entire warehouse area was eerily quiet; apart from the faint rumble of machinery in the distance, not a single person was in sight.

He followed the intermittent trail of blood on the concrete floor; the bright red drops of blood were particularly glaring against the gray ground. The trail eventually led to the door of a half-open warehouse, where a fresh, bloody handprint remained on the doorframe.

Crushed styrofoam boxes and broken wooden pallets were scattered at the warehouse entrance, the messy marks indicating that the warehouse had just been cleared out not long ago. A few pieces of plastic film rustled in the draft, clearly indicating that the warehouse manager had not yet had time to inspect the empty warehouse.

Beta held the pistol to his chest, adopting a pointing shooting posture, with the muzzle naturally aligned with his line of sight, and his body turning to aim.

He quickly scanned the door frame, and after confirming that there were no ambushes in the deadly crossfire zone at the entrance, he slipped sideways and entered the warehouse.

The warehouse was filled with a mixture of wood and dust smells.

Beta held the gun in both hands, scanning his surroundings warily.

Piles of empty wooden pallets were stacked to the ceiling like building blocks, large cardboard boxes scattered around formed hidden corners, and wrinkled plastic film on the floor rustled in the draft.

He walked slowly through the maze of clutter, searching for every clue.

Intermittent bloodstains were scattered everywhere, some spreading on the transparent plastic film, some radiating blood lines on the side of the cardboard box, and a few drops of fresh blood slowly sliding down the edge of the wooden pallet.

A soft "click" came from behind the stacked wooden pallets.

Beta's body instinctively leaned backward, and almost at the same moment, he held the gun with both hands, aimed at the source of the sound, and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

"Bang bang bang!"

The man behind the wooden pallet also opened fire at the same time.

The two exchanged fire across layers of stacked wooden pallets, bullets piercing through each pallet and exploding with deafening echoes in the enclosed warehouse.

The sharp bullets continuously tore through the dry wood, sending up a flurry of wood chips. These tiny fragments, as the two sides fired back and forth, formed two swirling "clouds of wood chips" on either side of the pallet, creating a magnificent spectacle in the slightly dim light of the warehouse.

Beta could clearly hear the "thud" of bullets piercing through the wooden planks and feel the bullets hitting the ground beside him.

He rolled to the side behind a pile of cardboard boxes and saw a figure vaguely emerging from the flying wood chips on the other side; that bastard was also looking for new cover.

Beta crouched low, hiding behind the cardboard boxes. While these empty boxes couldn't stop bullets, they created blind spots. In the life-or-death moment of a pistol duel, no one would waste precious ammunition blindly spraying bullets at cardboard boxes.

Beta pulled out the magazine; the standard 17-round magazine now only had 7 bullets left. Counting the bullet in the chamber, he had a total of 8 shots remaining.

Within eight bullets, he had to bring that scumbag on the other side to the ground.

"Bang bang bang!"

A series of gunshots suddenly rang out, bullets tearing through the cardboard boxes behind Beta and then piercing through the stacked wooden pallets, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

Beta quickly lowered his body and used the lulls in the gunfire to check if his cover was safe.

He seized the moment when the other man paused in his shooting, and suddenly peered out, discovering that the man was using both hands and feet to climb over a stack of wooden pallets, trying to scale the metal railing on the second floor.

Sunlight streamed in through the high window, clearly outlining the unguarded back of the other person's head.

Beta held the gun in both hands. The target suddenly plummeted, and the gunshot wound in the man's shoulder finally made him unable to hold on, abruptly stopping his climbing.

"boom!"

The gunshot rang out the instant the man fell; the bullet struck the iron railing, sending up a conspicuous spark.

The man groaned and slammed heavily into the pile of pallets, triggering a series of loud crashes. The muffled thuds of the wooden pallets breaking echoed through the warehouse, raising a cloud of choking dust.

Beta stared at the pile of collapsed pallets, his back teeth grinding. Using the stack of cardboard boxes as cover, Beta circled around to the side. As he rounded the corner, he bumped into the man staggering to his feet from the collapsed pallet pile.

The two locked eyes, and the air seemed to freeze.

Beta reacted quickly, stepping back and hiding behind a sturdy I-beam pillar.

Almost at the same second, the sound of metal clashing rang out in my ears as bullets fired from the other side pounded against the steel pillar one after another.

Sparks flew, leaving blinding trails in the dimly lit warehouse. Each bullet that hit the steel pillar was like a heavy hammer blow, making the pillar resound with a deafening roar.

Beta held his breath and peeked out to counterattack the moment the enemy's gunfire ceased.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—"

The other side retaliated just as quickly.

The bullet grazed Beta as it flew past. He ducked back into cover and peeked out from the other side again, only to see the man stumbling into the staff break room on the first floor of the warehouse. The wooden door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang.

The bullets Beta fired only managed to catch up with the closing wooden door, leaving several smoking bullet holes in the door panel.

He slipped out from behind the pillar and rushed to the door of the lounge.

Beta crouched low, pushed open the door with his left hand, and held his gun alertly in his right. Through the widening crack in the door, he saw that on the other side of the lounge, the door leading to the outside was wide open, and blinding sunlight slanted in from outside, casting a band of light into the dim room.

Beta quickly scanned the left and right corners with his gun, and after confirming that there were no ambushes, he rushed towards the open door.

Just as Beta rushed out the door, a dark shadow attacked him head-on.

Beta instinctively raised his arm to block, and with a muffled "crack," the man's long-planned heavy blow slammed into Beta's blocking arm. Intense pain shot through his nerves to his brain; the force of the blow was enough to prove that the other party was fighting with his life on the line.

The one who launched the sneak attack was the man who should have run away.

Beta gritted his teeth and endured the pain, using his left hand to grab the other man's wrist. The man used the force of Beta's block to twist his arm and break free.

The two men wrestled in the narrow passageway. The man turned and twisted his arm around Beta's wrist, grabbing the gun in his right hand, followed by a heavy elbow strike to Beta's wrist.

Beta's fingers went numb, and the pistol flew out of his hand, sliding away on the concrete floor.

Beta didn't back down, retaliating with a powerful punch that slammed into the other's dusty and blood-stained cheek.

With a muffled thud, the man's head snapped to one side, his body swayed backward, and several drops of bloody saliva flew out.

Taking advantage of the man's stagger, Beta struck the man's wrist holding the gun with a palm strike.

"Snapped!"

The pistol fell to the ground with a thud.

Beta then kicked the weapon away, the metal scraping against the concrete floor with a screeching sound, before it disappeared into the shadows of the shelves.

In the open space under the sunlight, two men covered in wounds resumed their fighting stance.

Sweat mixed with blood dripped from the man's taut chin, and his heavy breathing was particularly clear in the silent warehouse area.

With all the guns out of their hands, this life-or-death struggle has finally returned to its most primal form: hand-to-hand combat, a fight to the death.

(End of this chapter)