You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Chapter 267 The Blood Gang's Legacy - Part 1

A crisp burst of short-range fire suddenly rang out, but the sound did not come from Tyrone's hand.

The glass partition window instantly burst open with three spiderweb-like cracks, followed by the loud crash of the glass shattering completely.

Tyrone's head exploded instantly, just like a watermelon.

Three 5.56mm rifle bullets pierced his temples and forehead in less than half a second.

Before Tyrone could even register the instinctive reaction to pull the trigger, the bullet's immense kinetic energy sent him flying, slamming heavily against the metal cabinet behind him, his brains and blood splattering all over the wall.

"Boss!" Donnie shouted shrilly, instinctively raising his gun to try and find the attacker.

"Fuck you, fire! Kill him!" Benny roared, pointing at the grumbling guy who was standing still. He instinctively thought this was some kind of trick the grumbling guy was up to, so he picked up his submachine gun and prepared to fire.

The instant Talon's head exploded, the chatterbox's brain instantly switched back to Ranger combat mode.

With a sleazy but lightning-fast movement, his right hand reached into the crotch of his gray combat trousers.

"Go to hell, you bastards!"

With a furious roar, he yanked out an M84 stun grenade, his thumb flicking away the safety pin.

He slammed the stun grenade into the ceiling in the center of the office, then lunged forward, kicking over the heavy solid wood desk in front of him. He shrank into a corner behind the desk like a shrimp, covering his ears, closing his eyes, and opening his mouth.

"Bang—!!!"

The M84 stun grenade detonated instantly in mid-air.

A blinding white light instantly filled the entire office, as if a miniature sun had exploded inside, burning the retinas of all the gangsters into a blank.

What followed was a terrifying roar of up to 170 decibels. The enormous overpressure sound waves echoed back and forth in the small compartment, shattering the remaining glass and instantly disrupting the semicircular canals of everyone in the room, causing them to fall into a state of disorientation.

Donnie, Benny, and several other thugs threw down their guns, clutching their bleeding ears and rolling on the ground in agony.

Rewind 15 seconds.

The exterior of the factory building.

The moment Leon gave the order to "approach the factory" over the walkie-talkie, Jackdaw had just slid down from the roof of the abandoned factory, his feet sinking into the mud, gun in hand, ready to sprint toward Steel Plant No. 9.

In the expert's knowledge, in such a rainy day, without alerting anyone, even if the surrounding personnel have been cleared, approaching the factory from the open space and then using tactical grappling hooks or climbing equipment to reach the third floor, even the most elite SEAL climbing expert would need at least three minutes.

But he was wrong.

The moment Lyon gave the order, he jumped off the coal washing tower and rapidly approached the factory building. His gaze then locked onto the glass window on the third floor that was letting in a faint light.

"Shadow Pull".

He silently recited it in his heart.

Leon's body left a blurry afterimage as he instantly traversed the 15-meter muddy open space at a terrifying speed that defied the laws of physics, crashing directly into the red brick exterior wall of the third floor of the factory building.

The moment he touched the wall, his gloves and combat boots were firmly stuck to the slippery bricks.

"A gecko climbs the wall."

His body resembled a giant spider in a hunting posture, using both hands and feet, holding a gun in one hand and gripping the windowsill outside the director's office on the third floor with the other.

He hung his body outside the wall, rainwater dripping down his helmet.

As soon as his gaze passed through the glass, he saw Mia, who was tied to a chair and looked deathly pale, and Tyrone's finger already on the trigger.

There wasn't enough time to wait for the crows to get into position.

Lyon picked up the fully equipped HK416 assault rifle with one hand and pressed the barrel directly against the glass.

"I'm in position." Leon pressed the microphone, his voice as cold as iron in the wind and rain.

"They're about to make their move, so I'm going to engage them first."

After saying that, he pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

In the muddy ground below the factory building.

As Jackdaw was running wildly with his gun in hand, he heard the words "I'm in position" coming from his earpiece, and he stumbled, almost falling headfirst into a puddle.

He suddenly raised his head and stared intently through his night vision goggles at the figure hanging outside the window on the third floor, firing a weapon.

The crow's usually expressionless, dead face was now completely distorted.

Holy crap?!

He let out the exact same roar in his mind as the chatterbox.

What the hell are you doing at?!

It's only been a dozen seconds?! I haven't even touched the front door yet, and you're already hanging outside the third-floor window?!

Did you just fly up there?! Where's your tactical grappling hook?! Don't you need a fixed anchor point?! Newton must be turning in his grave!

Wait, did I take any enhancement drugs before I came here?

Han Ya felt his worldview was completely shattered by the sound of the HK416 gunshot at that moment. He even wondered if he had inhaled some hallucinogenic gas at some point.

Meanwhile, the echoes of the stun grenade still reverberated wildly in the cramped office.

Lyon braced himself against the shattered window frame with one hand and leaped into the room.

The stock of the HK416 assault rifle was firmly pressed against his shoulder, and his enhanced dynamic vision allowed him to see everyone's positions clearly amidst the white light and smoke.

Benny was rolling on the ground, clutching his bleeding ear, trying to reach for the fallen microfiber.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two 5.56mm bullets pierced his neck and chest with pinpoint accuracy. Benny's body convulsed violently before going completely limp.

Donnie leaned against the metal cabinet, his eyes unfocused, waving his arms unconsciously. Leon's gun moved horizontally, the crosshair not even needing to be consciously aimed.

"Bang!"

Donnie's head slammed heavily against the cabinet door, leaving a dark red streak of blood.

Leon stepped forward, his footsteps piercing through the shattered glass and spent cartridge cases scattered on the ground.

He casually finished off the two gangsters who were still rolling on the ground with a dull but effective shot.

He walked to the iron chair. Mia's head slumped limply against her chest. Her body, already weakened by the heavy blow to her abdomen, had completely fallen into a coma due to the close-range overpressure impact of the M84 stun grenade.

Behind the solid wood desk next to him, the chatterbox was struggling to stand up, holding onto the desk leg.

Although he had taken tactical evasion measures in advance, the detonation at that distance still made him unsteady on his feet, and he shook his head vigorously in an attempt to shake off the tinnitus.

Vic huddled in the deepest, darkest corner of the office, his hands tightly covering his ears, completely incapacitated by the shock of the stun grenade.

Just as Leon was about to cut the nylon rope binding Mia, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.

[Danger Perception] Frenzied Warning.

Outside the warped wooden door of the office, hurried, chaotic footsteps were rapidly approaching. Andrei, leading the first group of Blood Gang loyalists who had been guarding the corridor, was attempting to storm in, guns at the ready.

Lyon whirled around, pointing his gun directly at the wooden door.

The moment the door was kicked open, half of Andrei's face, covered in short stubble, peeked out.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The bullet pierced through the thin wooden door panel, and three bursts of blood erupted from Andrei's chest. His massive body was propelled backward by the bullet's kinetic energy, crashing heavily into the two thugs behind him.

Lyon didn't even bother to aim.

With the enhancement of his willpower and the LV4 rifle proficiency, he calculated the trajectory of each bullet in his mind before even pulling the trigger.

It feels like having an external aimbot mounted on your retina.

Why aren't you hitting the frame?

While maintaining firepower to suppress the enemy outside the door, he couldn't help but think to himself.

Upgrading from 16 to 20 points is like having auto-aim enabled. If I get carried away and upgrade a few more levels, will the bullets actually be able to curve like in those ridiculous movies?

I might as well quit being a policeman and just apply to the Avengers.

"Shut up! Cover with grenades!" Leon yelled as he changed magazines.

"Roger!" The chatterbox shook his head a couple of times, pulled the M67 fragmentation grenade out of his crotch, pulled the safety pin, and rolled it down the floor into the hallway.

Then, Chatterbox grabbed the miniature submachine gun that belonged to Benny from the ground. Although he was still a little unsteady on his feet, the Ranger's fighting instincts made him quickly lean against the side of the door frame, pointing the gun at the corridor.

"boom--!"

The grenade exploded in the corridor, accompanied by screams and the sound of shrapnel whistling through the air.

Taking advantage of the moment, Leon drew his folding knife and cut the nylon rope binding Mia.

He tucked the unconscious Mia under one arm and strode to the broken window.

Below the third floor, the crow had just run through the mud and water to the base of the wall.

He was holding a tactical rope-throwing gun in his hand. He had just shot the barbed grappling hook onto the third-floor windowsill and was preparing to pull the rope tight to climb up.

Lyon leaned out halfway and grabbed the taut special nylon rope.

"Get out of the way."

With a low shout, Leon, amidst the horrified gaze of the raven, grabbed Mia with one arm and the rope with the other, and slid down from the third-floor window.

The tactical gloves rubbed violently against the nylon rope, even producing a faint burnt smell in the darkness.

Less than two seconds later, Lyon landed steadily on the mud.

He shoved Mia, who was in his arms, directly into the crow's arms.

"Find a safe place to drop her off, or just put her back in the car," Leon said rapidly.

"I'll go back and keep playing."

The crow held the unconscious Mia, frozen in place.

Awesome.

A look of deep existential doubt appeared on Han Ya's usually expressionless face.

So, I, a dignified elite SEAL, came here with a truck full of heavy firepower, only to end up as an outside support worker on the ground floor, carrying a stretcher.

"Understood." Crow gritted his teeth. "I'll take her back to the police car right away."

Lyon nodded and turned to face the red brick wall again.

[Shadow Pull].

Before the crow could turn around, Leon slammed his foot on the ground and sprang to his feet. He then took two steps onto the slippery wall, his body rising abruptly as he once again vaulted into the broken window on the third floor.

The crow held Mia, looked up at the figure disappearing into the window frame, and twitched its lips twice.

This looks like that—Christian Kung Fu—could it be—this guy learned kung fu from an Eastern martial arts master?

In the East, everyone knows kung fu, right? This is called something like light-body kung fu, right?

Inside the office on the third floor.

With his miniature submachine gun in hand, the chatterbox was already engaged in a fierce firefight with the second wave of He Gang thugs surging down the corridor.

Bullets struck the metal cabinet and wall, sparks flying. The chattering mouth was pinned behind the door frame, shouting excitedly.

Lyon climbed through the window and casually switched the HK416's speedometer to fully automatic mode.

"Step back." Leon walked to the side of the chatterbox.

Leon instinctively sidestepped to create firing space, and his HK416 spewed out deadly fire.

This fully equipped assault rifle unleashed its full power in Leon's hands, maintaining a terrifying accuracy even in fully automatic fire.

In the corridor, the Blood Gang loyalists brought by Andrei were charging forward, howling, stepping over the corpses of their comrades.

They were Marcus's toughest trump card, maintaining their ferocious aggression even as the bodies of their comrades littered the office doorway.

The 5.56mm bullet, like a scythe of death, swept across the narrow space of the corridor.

The three loyalists at the forefront didn't even have a chance to fire before their chests were instantly torn apart by a hail of bullets. Their bulletproof vests were like paper in front of rifle bullets, and blood mist mixed with bits of flesh sprayed wildly on the walls of the corridor.

The thugs in the back row were suppressed by the terrifying firepower and could not raise their heads. They tried to hide in the abandoned workshop next door to continue the firefight, but Leon's gun moved faster than their movements, and his precise short bursts pinned them to the door frame.

The chatterbox was frantically firing shots from the side with a submachine gun, excitedly spewing profanities.

He found that he didn't even need to aim deliberately; he could simply follow Leon's advance and unleash a hail of bullets on the remaining enemies who tried to peek out.

"Damn! This is even more fun than CQB in Fallujah!" the chatterbox roared as he stomped over a still-twitching corpse.

Just as the firefight in the corridor was turning into a one-sided rout, a faint sound came from inside the office.

Vic, huddled in the corner, finally regained some consciousness from the shock of the stun grenade.

Blood was flowing from his ears, his vision was blurred, his hands were trembling as he tried to push himself up from the floor, and he was groaning unconsciously.

Lyon caught a glimpse of the commotion in the corner out of the corner of his eye.

Although Lyon had heard Vic's name from a few gangsters, he didn't actually recognize the weathered-looking old man in front of him.

However, judging from the fact that this guy dared to yell at Tyrone just now, he must be a core high-ranking member of the Blood Gang remnants.

Mia is a police officer, after all. Her apartment address shouldn't be a place that everyone knows. For these gangsters to be able to sneak over there and carry out the kidnapping, there must be one or more corrupt police officers in the West Precinct acting as moles.

Lyon needs a survivor to reveal the name of the mole, as well as to ascertain the current state of the Bloods and obtain their final legacy, whether it be money or weapons.

If they could absorb the Bloods' territory, their homeless community would have the potential to expand further.

Leon strode across the broken glass on the ground, walked to Vic's side, grabbed the butt of the HK416, and slammed it heavily onto the back of Vic's head.

With a muffled thud, Vic's body, which had just been halfway up, instantly went limp and collapsed back onto the floor like a lump of mud, completely unconscious.

The gunfire in the corridor gradually subsided. Most of the Blood Gang's loyalists had been wiped out.

Downstairs in the factory, the henchmen who had been called in by Tyrone to provide support and who belonged to "Mad Dog Aug" of the 23rd Street King Gang finally realized that something was wrong.

These opportunistic fair-weather friends had no intention of fighting for the Blood Gang.

Hearing the sounds of a one-sided massacre coming from the second and third floors, they decisively abandoned their defenses and fled in panic toward the various exits of the factory.

"They're getting away!" Broken-mouthed shouted, sticking half his body out and looking down at the dark figures frantically fleeing from the abandoned equipment room.

"They can't escape."

Lyon casually tossed the empty HK416 onto the desk and then pulled the SR-25 semi-automatic sniper rifle that he had just slung behind his back to his chest.

"Crow, no need to come back to support. Just call out the deserters on the outskirts." Leon pressed the microphone, his voice completely flat.

"Received." A slightly breathless reply came from the communication channel.

The former Navy SEAL sniper had already settled Mia in the police car and hadn't even had a chance to return to the factory when he received orders from Leon to finish things up.

Then, Leon strode to the completely shattered window, set up his sniper rifle, and pressed the scope against his right eye.

Those gangsters running wildly through the mud looked to him like slow-moving targets in a shooting range.

"Bang!"

The SR-25, equipped with a muffler, emitted a muffled thud. A henchman of the King's Gang, who had just run out of the factory gate and was trying to climb into the SUV, had his head explode instantly and fell headfirst into the car door.

"Bang!"

Another shot.

A dark figure attempting to climb over the barbed wire suddenly stopped in mid-air, its chest torn open by a large-caliber bullet, and it hung on the barbed wire.

At the same time, faint gunshots could be heard from the high ground surrounding the factory.

The crow finally returned to his outer sniping position and joined the one-sided roll call against the deserter.

Two top-tier sniper rifles, one high and one low, meant that the King's henchmen who tried to escape into the darkness, whether running in a straight line or trying to evade in an S-shape, could not escape being instantly headshot.

The moment Lyon slightly shifted the muzzle of his gun, a body would inevitably fall into the mud.

With the last thug attempting to climb into the sewer outside the factory being pinned to a manhole cover by a single shot from Lyon, the entire abandoned steel plant number nine fell into utter silence.

Now, only the monotonous roar of the generator and the dull thud of rain hitting the tin roof remain in the factory.

The chatterbox leaned against the door frame, looking at the corpses scattered all over the corridor and downstairs, panting heavily, his eyes filled with an unbridled excitement.

Leon lowered the muzzle of his gun and pulled the safety on the SR-25.

He turned around, his boots stepping on the sticky blood and broken glass on the floor, walked over to Vic, bent down, grabbed Vic by the collar, pulled the unconscious Blood Gang leader up, and threw him onto the still-intact desk.

"Wake up, I need to ask you something." Leon drew his folding knife, the cold blade pressed directly against Vic's carotid artery.