A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

Lu Yuan glided along the ground, passing under the jet stream, and grabbed the third person's ankle with his fingers, pulling him backward sharply. The 100-kilogram body plus 30 kilograms of equipment slammed into the steel floor with a dull thud, swallowed by the white mist.

The fourth and fifth people stood back to back, guns pointed outwards. A standard doomsday defensive formation.

The blade pierced through one of the men's knees, at the joint where the heavy armor was thinnest.

The screams revealed the direction of his partner's fire. Lu Yuan circled around from the side, slapped the gun barrel with his palm, and at the same time spun around, elbowing the man squarely in the throat.

Nine seconds later, the entire rear squad was wiped out.

There were still six people ahead, retreating upon hearing the commotion. Lu Yuan bent down, picked up the kinetic energy gun from the ground, shouldered it, and, using sound to pinpoint their location, fired three shots in quick succession.

The electromagnetic coil hummed three times, and the sound of three bodies falling to the ground came from the fog. The remaining three retreated frantically, and someone shouted to retreat.

Lu Yuan gave them no chance, his body plunging into the depths of the thick fog, his blade contacting the target before his eyes could see it.

Seven seconds later, the passageway fell silent.

Only the refrigerant pipes were still hissing and spewing out white mist, and the blood on the ground was freezing quickly at low temperatures, turning into dark red ice shards.

Lu Yuan raised the kinetic energy gun and fired at the four microwave transmitters one by one. The dish antennas shattered into scrap metal under the impact of the projectiles.

The white mist was slowly dissipating. At the end of the passage, the final explosion-proof gate was completely locked. It was a single piece of ten-ton titanium alloy, with no hinges to corrode and no gaps to pry open.

Suddenly, dense red lights illuminated the ceiling above the gate and at the seam between it and the ground—laser cutting mesh.

An industrial-grade carbon dioxide laser with a power of two kilowatts is powerful enough to cut through a 20-millimeter-thick steel plate in three seconds.

Human tissue is more fragile than paper in its presence. The red beams interweave at 20-centimeter intervals, turning the area three meters in front of the gate into a three-dimensional meat grinder.

At the same time, the vent grille was popped open, and colorless gas gushed out.

Lu Yuan caught a very faint scent of bitter almonds in his nostrils—a derivative of the VX nerve agent.

In the conference room, the second elder gripped the armrest tightly, his fingernails digging into his skin: "Enough...enough...he can't get through."

The chief elder remained silent, his gaze fixed on the screen, his lips turning purple.

In the passageway camera footage, the blood-covered man did not back down.

Lu Yuan unzipped his down jacket collar and put on the APValkyrie closed-loop recirculation mask. The rubber sealing ring fit snugly against his cheekbone, sealing off his breathing loop and completely isolating him from external toxic gases.

He glanced down at the kinetic energy gun in his hand; the laser generator was embedded inside the ceiling, making it impossible to hit.

Turning our attention to the electronic lock control unit of the gate, on the right side of the gate frame, there is a palm-sized sealed box containing the PLC that controls the hydraulic valves and the interlocking logic board.

Lu Yuan took out the modified EMP core component from his tactical vest. It was a magnetron and a high-voltage capacitor. It had been used once in Zurich, but the core capacitor still had 40% residual charge.

It's not enough to burn through seven layers of firewalls, but it's more than enough to burn out a PLC.

He tossed the capacitor module from his hand; its trajectory was low and flat, gliding over the five-centimeter gap below the laser grid, at the bottom edge where the beam density was lowest.

At the highest point of the capacitor casing's bounce upon landing, the kinetic energy gun fires.

The moment the projectile pierced the aluminum casing, the compressed charge was released in the form of an electric arc. The electromagnetic pulse had nowhere to dissipate in the sealed channel and was entirely injected into the electronic equipment inside the wall.

The laser generator's motherboard burned out. One by one, the red beams went out, like a beaded curtain with a broken string.

The gate's PLC simultaneously crashed, the interlocking logic board lost power, the hydraulic valve's electromagnet was released, and the ten-ton titanium alloy gate panel began to slowly slide to both sides due to its own weight.

The opening expanded from five centimeters to ten centimeters, twenty centimeters, and thirty centimeters.

Lu Yuan squeezed through to the side. The outer hall of the secret room was brightly lit, almost blindingly white.

Twelve people stood in the light, dressed in black, tight-fitting combat suits, each holding a 20-centimeter-long short blade with a greenish, poisoned surface.

Their positions sealed the entire space off like a seamless cage.

Suicide bombers! Biological weapons injected with pain-inhibiting agents. Pain sensation is completely blocked, adrenaline is artificially maintained at the edge of lethal doses, and muscle explosiveness and reaction speed exceed the normal human limit by forty percent.

The price is lifespan; these people only have 72 hours to live from the moment of injection.

Their goal is to stall, or at least exchange lives.

The first assassin moved with incredible speed. Lu Yuan's retina only had time to catch a blurry black shadow as a short blade slashed towards his throat at a tricky angle.

Lu Yuan leaned back, the blade tip grazing half a centimeter in front of his chin. The second person had already pressed against his left side, and the third person slashed in from behind.

Attacked from three sides simultaneously, leaving him with less than 0.2 seconds to react.

He parried the short blade from the front with his military blade, then thrust his left elbow backward, slamming it into the third man's chest. The assassin, oblivious to pain, was knocked back, and as he did so, the short blade slashed across Lu Yuan's back.

The skin and flesh tore open, and blood flowed from the shoulder blade all the way down to the waist.

He'd trade injury for injury, life for life. If the fight continued at a normal pace, twelve people who felt no pain would wear him down to death.

The old injury on his left arm ruptured completely during the strenuous activity. The bandage was soaked with blood and fell off, with bright red liquid dripping from his fingers onto the ground.

He had to be quick. Lu Yuan pushed off with his right foot, charging forward into the densest part of the crowd. When the target charged into the center, the twelve assassins' attack lines would create blind spots where friendly fire would occur.

In a mere 0.3 seconds, a sharp blade slashed across, rupturing the first player's Achilles tendon. No pain? Even without pain, he couldn't stand. A severed tendon is purely a physical loss of function, unrelated to pain.

As the assassin fell to the ground, Lu Yuan leaped up, stepping on his shoulder, and flipped in mid-air, his right foot striking the second man's face. The man's cervical spine snapped at an angle exceeding physiological limits.

He landed. The third man's short blade stabbed from the side. Lu Yuan didn't dodge; there wasn't enough time. He took the blow head-on with his left forearm.

The blade pierced through the muscles of his forearm, overlapping with the old wound.

His right hand simultaneously completed the action: the military blade slashed upwards into the opponent's jaw, the tip penetrating the mouth and reaching the base of the skull, the third one.

There were nine more, no, eight. The one with the ruptured Achilles tendon was crawling on the ground with his arms when Lu Yuan stomped on his neck and broke it.

With only seven remaining, time seemed to stretch on and then fly by. Lu Yuan weaved between the seven poisoned short blades, each step teetering on the edge of life and death.

He had four new wounds: on his right rib, the outside of his left thigh, below his right scapula, and behind his left ear.

Every additional wound means one less enemy standing.