What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

Inside the car, Victor gripped the steering wheel, his palms sweaty.

He looked at the old Ford that was recklessly changing lanes ahead, and then at the two black sedans chasing closely behind in his rearview mirror. He felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat.

"Boss... I can't keep up..." he growled into his Bluetooth headset.

"Shut up and stay close," came Li Ang's icy voice.

Li Ang stood on the rooftop, the night wind ruffling the hem of his clothes.

His mental focus was highly concentrated, and the entire city's road network formed a three-dimensional map in his mind.

Gordon's escape route was haphazard and filled with panic.

"He wants to get on Highway 3 and head east, which is a place he's familiar with," Li Ang said.

"Victor, at the next intersection, force him onto the bridge and drive towards the West Industrial Park."

"What? Isn't that a dead end?" Victor exclaimed.

"Do as I say."

Dodge roared and squeezed in from the side.

Gordon was startled when a huge muscle car suddenly approached. He instinctively swerved the steering wheel, missed the ramp to the East End, and was forced onto another road leading to the cross-sea bridge.

"Well done," came Li Ang's voice.

"How can I stop you?!" Victor said angrily.

"Hit it."

Li Ang's tone was as casual as if he were saying, "Hand me that glass of water."

Victor's mind went blank for a second.

He watched the two cars getting closer and closer in his rearview mirror, and there was nothing he could do.

Victor slammed on the brakes and frantically spun the steering wheel.

Amidst the loud crash, a car following closely behind had no time to react and crashed head-on into the rear of the Dodge.

The out-of-control Dodge spun around and crashed hard into the front of another car.

The airbags deployed, leaving Victor dazed and disoriented.

He struggled to lift his head, watching the Ford headlights disappear into the distance. Dazed, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit it.

"Fuck..."

After taking a deep breath, he picked up the pistol from his waist and went to check on the situation inside the other two cars.

Fortunately, the people in the car had already passed out.

At that moment, several cars came up from behind, and Victor thought they were enemies.

After looking closely, he realized it was Derek leading a group of people, heading towards him.

They were there to meet him.

Li Ang dialed Derek's number.

"How are you? Is Victor alright?"

"It's okay," Derek said.

"Very good, you are ready to follow from behind."

……

Gordon's Ford was speeding down the highway.

He didn't know where he was going; all he knew was that he had to escape.

Congressman Hall, standing beside him, was too frightened to shout any longer; he was just gripping the seatbelt tightly, his face ashen.

"bite."

A text message notification sounded.

Gordon glanced at the lit-up phone screen; it was an anonymous message.

There is only one address above.

"The Third Waste Treatment Plant in the West of the City. Come here if you want to live."

It's that mysterious person again.

From clues about the cannery to Representative Hall's deal video, and then to that charred document.

This person seemed to have been watching him and guiding him from the shadows all along.

Who is he?

What does he want to do?

Is this a trap?

Countless questions swirled in Gordon's mind.

But he had no choice.

He glanced at the rearview mirror; there were no more pursuers behind him, but the feeling of being gripped by an invisible hand by the throat intensified.

He gritted his teeth, turned the car around, and drove toward the address in the text message.

Waste treatment plant.

A veritable mountain of garbage.

The air was thick with the stench of decay, and huge piles of scrap metal cast distorted shadows in the dim light.

Li Ang had already arrived at this place long ago.

"Sniper position, at seven o'clock, the cab of the tallest crane."

"Assault team, lie in ambush in the pile of wrecked cars on the left side of the entrance."

"Fire support, top of the container on the right."

He gave instructions to Jack, who was already in position, through his headset.

Jack and his Team A quickly integrated into the junkyard.

They were all ready.

Gordon's battered old Ford crashed right in.

He had just stopped the car and hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath.

Several blinding headlights suddenly lit up from the entrance of the landfill, surrounding him.

They were those black Chevrolets.

They still caught up with us.

The four cars fanned out, blocking the only exit.

The car door opened, and a dozen men in black armed with automatic weapons jumped out and quickly set up a firing position.

Gordon's heart sank to the bottom.

A middle-aged man in a trench coat with a cold expression stepped out of the lead car.

He didn't look at Gordon, but at the entire junkyard.

"It's a trap."

The voice just fell.

"Snapped!"

A loud bang.

All the searchlights in the landfill turned on at the same time.

Hundreds of beams of light, as bright as day, instantly engulfed those people.

The sudden bright light made them instinctively close their eyes.

In that brief moment of blindness.

The man in the trench coat standing at the front had a small bloody hole between his eyebrows.

His body swayed, his face still bearing that indifferent expression, before he fell straight backward.

At seven o'clock, in the crane cab a kilometer away.

Jack put down his sniper rifle and pulled the trigger.

The battle began the instant the sniper rifle fired.

Those professionally trained men in black, after a brief period of blindness and confusion, immediately demonstrated extremely high tactical skills.

They quickly sought cover and began to return fire.

Although Jack and his crew had received training, their aim was still terrible.

Fortunately, the firepower is sufficient.

Jack's Group A occupied all the high points and advantageous terrain.

Li Ang didn't even make a move.

Watching from the sidelines.

Gordon, dragging the terrified Senator Hall behind a mountain of wrecked cars, watched the scene unfold before him, trembling as if it were a scene from a war movie.

He saw the attackers' movements.

These people were firing indiscriminately, but they all looked like they were well-trained.

The gunfire subsided in less than five minutes.

The last man in black was shot in the head by Jack, ending the battle.

Jack and his men began cleaning up the battlefield and collecting loot like professional scavengers.

Li Ang leaped down from the container and landed silently in front of Gordon.

He didn't even glance at Congressman Hall, who was slumped over beside him; his gaze simply settled calmly on Gordon.

"You can ask me what you want to know now."

Li Ang's voice broke Gordon's shock.

He pulled an old-fashioned tape recorder from his pocket and threw it at Gordon's feet.

I'll give you one hour.

Gordon looked at Li Ang, who seemed somewhat familiar.

Fortunately, Li Ang had activated "Thousand Transformations" early on.

Gordon couldn't understand what this group of people was up to.