Chapter 69: Massacre

[Chapter 69: Massacre]

"Ah!" Tyrone let out a painful scream as Ian quickly snatched the skewer from his hand and brutally stabbed it into his eye socket.

The pain was excruciating, and Tyrone screamed again, a gut-wrenching sound.

Ian chuckled, "You're not wrong. That must hurt!"

The thug at the door was stunned, turning to see a shocking scene unfold. The thug who had pierced Tyrone with the iron skewer had drawn a gun and fired twice, killing him instantly.

He turned to Ian and said, "You should've covered his mouth; now we've got a problem! There are a lot of people outside."

"No problem; give me the gun." Ian took the weapon from him.

The thug was bewildered, "What are you planning to do?"

Ian fired a shot right at his head. The thug's eyes widened as he fell.

Ian smiled, "Don't worry. I never go back on my word. I'll burn you a million-dollar check." Then he started walking toward the stairs.

...

The gunfire clearly alerted those upstairs; a group of thugs rushed down the stairs, and one of them shouted, "What's going on? There's no need for guns!"

Ian raised his hand and shot the thug dead. His aim was still effective.

"It's necessary," he replied with a smile.

Everyone was stunned, but they weren't amateurs; they quickly opened fire in the direction of the stairs.

Ian had already dodged to the side, using his X-ray vision to see the bullets in the chambers of their guns.

Unfortunately, these thugs were much more experienced than the hotel gunmen and didn't foolishly waste all their bullets at once.

"My eyes are going to hurt again," Ian sighed.

Invisible threads connected to the guns in the thugs' hands gently pulled the safety.

At the same time, he walked toward the stairs.

Several gunmen appeared simultaneously, shooting at Ian, but to their shock, they found they couldn't fire.

They were momentarily stunned, looking at their guns.

In that split second, Ian raised his hand and fired, the thunderous bullets hitting several of them, and they dropped.

One gunman realized the safety had been clicked off and hurriedly switched it back on.

Ian's experience with the threads wasn't enough; he hadn't retracted them in time, resulting in a strand snapping, causing a sharp pain in his right eye.

"Damn!" He shut his right eye and, enduring the sting, charged out, shooting wildly at the other two thugs at the stairway, taking them all down.

Then he switched to a different gun and pressed on.

...

"Kill him!" Crips shouted from a distance.

It appeared they already realized what was happening.

Ian smirked as he approached a door and opened fire repeatedly at it, causing blood to gush out from the cracks.

He swaggered out, stepping over the corpses, and walked through the bloody mess toward Crips' study.

He stopped by the wall beside the door to the study and said, "Crips, I know you're in there, along with three others, with your guns aimed at the door, and you're shaking."

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire erupted in rapid succession.

Ian felt the bullets whiz past him through the wooden door as he casually lit a cigarette, saying, "Drop your weapons; I'm not going to kill you."

This was a truth.

Killing a kingpin would only allow another one to rise in their place.

Better to keep him alive!

"I don't believe you!" Crips shouted.

Ian shook his head lightly, murmuring, "You shouldn't have hidden in the study, especially one with windows."

He turned and walked out of the villa, circled around it, and stood under the window on the side, raising his hand to shoot.

Two shots later, Crips's two bodyguards dropped with bullets to their heads.

Crips screamed and turned to shoot, but Ian had already ducked behind the wall. "I'm giving you one last chance. Drop your weapon; I won't kill you. You have three bullets left, which won't stop me."

What?

How could he know how many bullets I have left?

Crips was horrified.

Although experienced hands could judge the opponent's remaining bullets by their shooting patterns, it was usually based on knowing what kind of gun was used and how many rounds it had.

How could he possibly know?

Ian continued, "Oh, by the way, you also have a double-barreled shotgun on your wall, and twenty-one 7mm rounds in your drawer. But trust me, that piece of junk has a slow reloading speed, making it useless. So, giving up your weapon is the best choice you have; if you cooperate, I'll give you a bright future."

After a long pause, a thud was heard from inside.

Crips said, "I'll put it down."

Ian sneered, "If you lie again, I'll blow your brains out. Remember, you can't fool me because I'm far more powerful than you know! You can't outsmart a journalist's insight!"

Damn!

Is the journalist's insight that incredible?

Crips felt despair.

...

Ian had turned and returned to the room through the front door.

When he reached the study door again, Crips had indeed dropped the gun.

This was terrifying! Was this guy a devil or something?

Ian pushed the door open, aiming the gun at Crips: "Good. You made the right choice. Now tell me, when are Kenwal's men arriving?"

Crips looked pale, fear washing over his face. "In two hours."

Ian replied, "You have twenty minutes to regroup your men and clean this place up."

As he spoke, he sighed, glancing at the lifeless bodies on the ground.

What a great story for the news!

But to take down the Crips Gang, he had to forgo this story.

...

At that moment, Ian sat down in Crips's chair, propping his chin in thought.

He now felt that when dealing with these gangs, merely relying on his enhanced vision wasn't enough. In the future, he needed to ramp up his training; it was best to wear a bulletproof vest as well.

Crips helplessly grabbed his phone to call for backup.

Watching the bodies outside was shocking.

A number of these men were armed, and he noticed Ian was thinking, gently picking up a gun from the ground and cautiously moving to the door.

But instead of firing, he concealed the gun behind him, pretending to be on the phone while secretly keeping an eye on Ian.

He wasn't sure if Ian had noticed his actions; this guy was too mysterious, too eerie.

Even now, he couldn't fathom how Ian managed to pull this off.

After thinking for a moment, Ian suddenly had a thought and stood up. "You usually should have a safe, a secret vault, and financial records in your line of work, right? Where are they?"

Crips, with his gun at the ready, said, "Did you see that painting on the wall? There's a safe behind it."

Ian surely knew this; he was just pretending not to.

He smiled and said, "How unoriginal."

He walked over, took down the frame, and indeed found a safe behind it.

"Password." He stated.

Crips told him the password, and Ian began to twist the combination dial.

At that moment, he had his back turned to Crips.

Crips slowly walked over, pressing the gun against the back of Ian's head, sneering, "What now? How will you turn things around?"

Ian didn't even turn his head, continuing to twist the combination.

When he reached the final number, the safe popped open.

Inside were some gold bars, cash, and besides that, documents and bearer bonds totaling around five million.

Ian smiled, "Wow, not bad. Looks like the mob really knows how to rake in the cash. Gaskill always said not to gain funds through gambling, but this situation seems like an exception, right? I mean, it means you gained not just money, but power. Am I right, buddy?"

Crips shouted, "My gun's aimed at your head!"

Finally, Ian turned to look at Crips, sneering, "Pull the trigger."

What?

Crips was stunned.

As a mob boss, he certainly had the guts to kill.

In the next moment, he shot at Ian, but nothing happened.

What was going on?

Ian had grabbed the gun away swiftly, popping the safety. "You didn't click off the safety, buddy."

This was impossible!

Crips was horrified.

Ian then fired a shot into Crips's thigh.

"Ah!" Crips screamed, collapsing to the ground.

Ian holstered his weapon. "This is your last chance. If there's a next time, you'll be dead."

Looking at Crips's wounded leg, he smiled, "Now this is what I call the Crippled Gang!"

*****

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