Chapter 8 Real Estate is the Foundation of Everything! _3

The road was less than five meters wide, rolling over would only take two or three seconds, yet for Lin Miao, it felt like an entire century had passed. He watched as that hand grenade rolled all the way to the bald man's feet.

"Hmm?"

The bald man felt something hit his heel, and when he looked down, he saw a dented cylindrical object, about the size of a palm. His lips moved slightly.

"F**k...."

The last two words didn't come out as fierce flames erupted from the cylinder, blasting him away entirely.

"?"

The Night Wanderer, who was still unzipping his pants, was stunned by the explosion. He didn't even dare pull up his pants and instinctively wanted to crouch back beside the engine, using the reinforced body of the vehicle as cover. But the moment the grenade exploded, Lin Miao had already risen from the bushes, raised his gun, aligned the sights, and pulled the trigger despite the risk of being hit by shrapnel, sending a burst of bullets forward.

Although his Basic Firearms Mastery LV3 wasn't very high, he understood basic principles of firearm usage. At five meters, it was like shooting at a stationary target, and the green-haired Mohawk's left chest was blown to pieces by bullets.

To counter the bulletproof capabilities brought by prosthetics, today's arms market is filled with full-power bullets, high-explosive rounds, or incendiary rounds, even guns that can kill an elephant. Those without prosthetic protection... well, what can I say... heh.

From the grenade explosion to finishing the shooting, it took no more than two seconds, but Lin Miao didn't stop there. He immediately leaped out, hugging his gun, and fired a burst at the Night Wanderer who had been blown several meters away by the grenade, the bullets shattering both the neuronic components and skull fragments. After emptying the bullets, he tossed the gun to the ground, drew the handgun from his waist, and finished off the green-haired Mohawk by blasting his head to pieces.

The whole process was seamless as if Lin Miao didn't even blink. He felt no fluctuations during his first kill, except for a slight disgust at the corpse with a smashed head, not even a hint of pity for the two dead.

The pressure they brought to Lin Miao was nothing compared to the few words he exchanged with Ogata and Wagako yesterday.

"Hoo..."

After pausing for a few seconds, Lin Miao knew he couldn't stay here long. He also couldn't take the Night Wanderer's vehicle; who knows if there's a tracker installed. He's even heard that some advanced cyber-eyes can scan tire tracks to track vehicles. Lin Miao hung the gun on his waist, dragged the two bodies to the side, pulled out a grenade, and threw it into the car. The massive flames from the explosion engulfed the entire metal vehicle body, sending the modified car skyward.

Friends who kill often know that killing is easy, disposing of bodies is hard.

Before the blazing flames, Lin Miao looked at the blood-soaked mangled corpses, thought for a moment, then dragged them over to shove their heads and wounds into the fire for a while. He threw his blood-stained jacket into the blaze to be burned clean, and finally, after confirming the injuries were charred and wouldn't bleed, he dragged their corpses into the truck bed hidden in a distant mountain pass.

To avoid being tracked, Lin Miao even drove around for a while on the road before heading towards the town from another direction.

Let's just say, being cautious is never wrong, and before having the capability, one must endure.

The only small problem was that the truck was filled with a burnt meat smell mixed with the stench of leaking chemicals, making Lin Miao nauseous, yet he had to endure it.

For some reason, Lin Miao felt no guilt about killing people or throwing them into the fire; the actions were smooth and natural.

And when he drove back to the town and saw the devastation firsthand, he gained a new understanding of the destructive power of players.

Originally, even though the town's buildings were dilapidated, most houses hadn't suffered structural damage. Wanderers and Night Wanderers had no interest in these planks and tin sheets, so the structures could at least maintain their original form. Yet, in the five hours he was gone, the entire town was devastated like locusts had swept through, leaving everything in tatters. Only a few mobile trailers around the bar stood relatively intact, shivering in the cold wind, while other buildings were reduced to rubble; some still had a few walls standing, others mere foundations.

The Wildman was still there swinging a massive hammer, inexplicably muttering "Eighty! Eighty!" as he relentlessly hammered at the fallen composite board wall, with his phys stat of 6 allowing him to persist with energy to spare.