Chapter 160: Heavy Losses
The steel security door finally succumbed and crashed to the ground. The sturdy wooden door behind it—how long could it last?
Skinny teenager instinctively tightened his grip on the pistol.
At this point, a desperate fight might be the only way to survive.
The room fell into dead silence. The only sound was the rhythmic pounding of the battering ram, echoing like a drum against their hearts.
Cracks had already appeared on the wooden door.
Seeing this, the middle-aged man raised his gun.
It was close—life and death would be decided in moments.
When the door broke, the battle would begin.
Sweat began to form on his palms from the tension. His fingertips turned pale from gripping the gun too tightly.
With a deafening bang, the wooden door collapsed.
Beyond the threshold stood a team of fully armed police officers, wielding a battering ram and riot shields.
For a brief moment, the police hesitated at the sight of the middle-aged man standing in the center of the living room, gun raised and waiting.
They had expected resistance—after all, these criminals were as ruthless as any gangsters.
But they hadn’t expected the man to stand so openly, directly facing the door with his gun drawn.
What kind of criminal does that?
Even desperate criminals usually had some common sense.
No one just stood in the open, facing a squad of armed police.
They would take cover and fight back cautiously.
Only in movies did criminals charge police recklessly, seeking a glorious death.
In all his years in law enforcement, the Second Squad Captain had never encountered such a foolish criminal—until today.
The middle-aged man wasn’t following any logical script.
He simply stood there, waiting with his gun raised.
“Get down!”
The Captain shouted, raising his weapon.
There was no time to consider capturing the man alive.
If the criminal fired first in such a narrow entryway, officers would be injured or killed.
However, despite the Captain’s quick reaction, the middle-aged man, who had been waiting for this exact moment, was even faster.
As soon as the Captain lifted his weapon, the man calmly pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A burst of red blossomed from the Captain’s shoulder.
“Damn, I missed the mark,” the middle-aged man muttered. But he didn’t hesitate, squeezing the trigger again.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In rapid succession, he emptied his magazine.
The eight rounds hit their mark:
- The Captain took one hit.
- The officer holding the riot shield absorbed three shots—one ricocheted, hitting a teammate’s foot.
- The remaining four bullets struck two more officers, though none were fatal.
In just a few seconds, five officers were down, groaning in pain and unable to continue fighting.
Without wasting a moment, the middle-aged man reloaded. He ejected the empty magazine, slotted in a fresh one, chambered a round, and fired again.
The police were stunned.
A split-second hesitation could be fatal in battle, and the officers’ survival instincts kicked in. Instead of retaliating, they instinctively tried to dodge.
But the narrow doorway left little room for maneuvering.
The officers in front had no space to retreat, while those behind had no way to advance. The entire formation crumbled into chaos.
The middle-aged man took advantage of the disorder.
While the police struggled to reorganize, he fired another full magazine into them.
This time, however, the Captain reacted in time.
“Don’t panic! Frontline officers, return fire! Rear team, fall back!”
Despite his injuries, the Captain’s command was authoritative.
His words immediately snapped his team back to reality.
They had weapons too. They could fight back.
But just as the frontline officers raised their weapons—
The middle-aged man fired again.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Another eight rounds.
Four more officers went down, screaming in agony.
Even the towering officer with the riot shield, already wounded, took another hit.
At that moment, the Captain’s heart sank.
(End of Chapter 160)
