novelsite Chapter 76 Slaughter
Chapter 76 Slaughter
The warehouse was converted from six standard shipping containers, with several windows and lights on inside. Two guards stood at the entrance, carrying shotguns, nervously looking around. Through the windows, four more people could be seen inside, two of them loading items—judging by their shape, they appeared to be firearms—into several backpacks.
Another person was sitting at the table, making a phone call, and sounding very impatient.
"...I know! I know we have to put on a show tonight! But did you hear the gunshots in the East District just now? Damn it, did Rajish and his bunch of idiots make their move beforehand?...What? Not your people? Then who could it be?...Alright, alright, I got it. As planned, we'll start promptly at 11:30. Are the props ready?...Okay, that's settled then."
After hanging up the phone, the person turned around.
Wang Zhengyang got a good look at his face—round face, bald head, a thick gold chain around his neck, and a Rolex on his left wrist. Zhang Yiqiang.
He was talking to a middle-aged man in a gray jacket next to him, which should be Lao Han.
"Old Han, tell your men to be on their toes. Something's not right in the East District; other forces might have gotten involved." Zhang Yiqiang's face was grim. "Whoever it is, if they dare to ruin my plans, they'll all..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
Because Wang Zhengyang has already taken action.
But this time, he decided to make the battle even more spectacular—both to efficiently eliminate the enemy and to leave Natasha with an unforgettable impression.
Wang Zhengyang didn't jump directly off the top of the container. He stood up, positioned himself on the edge of the container, and looked down at the warehouse below. Three pistols rose from behind his waist, hovering in front of him in a triangular formation.
Then, he did something that left Natasha speechless—he stepped forward from the top of the three-story-high shipping container and into the void.
Natasha almost screamed.
But Wang Zhengyang did not fall. His body slowly descended through the air, as if supported by an invisible force. At the same time, three pistols began to spin, their muzzles always pointed towards the warehouse, forming a perfect circle of fire.
The two guards at the warehouse entrance finally noticed the anomaly and looked up at the sky.
They witnessed a scene they will never forget—
A figure dressed entirely in black, hovering in mid-air like a god, slowly descended. In front of him, three pistols spun, aimed, and were poised to fire, defying all the laws of physics. Thick fog flowed around him, and moonlight formed a blurry halo behind him, making him look less like a human and more like a judge descended from hell or heaven.
"Wh...what the hell?!" a guard stammered, forgetting to raise his shotgun.
Too late.
The battle unfolded in a way that Natasha could not comprehend at all.
Wang Zhengyang hovered in the air, fifteen meters above the warehouse's main entrance and about eight meters above the ground. His arms hung naturally at his sides, without any gun-holding gestures, but the three hovering pistols seemed to have been given life.
The first gun fired – not in bursts, but in a precise three-round burst.
"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"
Three bullets left the barrel almost simultaneously, tracing three nearly parallel trajectories in the air. The first bullet struck the left guard between the eyebrows, penetrating his forehead and exploding into a fist-sized hole in the back of his head, spraying blood mixed with brain matter onto the metal wall behind him. The second bullet struck the right guard in the throat, tearing his carotid artery, causing blood to gush out like a fountain. The guard clutched his neck and fell backward, emitting a suffocating "hoarse" sound. The third bullet struck the warehouse door lock, snapping the steel padlock in two.
The whole process took less than a second.
The two guards fell to the ground dead, and the warehouse door was opened.
The four men inside the warehouse reacted swiftly—after all, they were Zhang Yiqiang's handpicked core subordinates, seasoned veterans who had seen blood. Zhang Yiqiang immediately rolled behind a metal cabinet, while Lao Han hid under a heavy solid wood table. The other two—a bald, burly man and a scarred man with a face full of scars—quickly grabbed AK-74 assault rifles from the table and began firing wildly at the windows and doorway with almost no aim.
"Da da da da da da!"
The sound of automatic rifles rang out in the warehouse, their muzzle flashes blindingly in the dim light. 7.62mm bullets tore through the air, shattered windowpanes, and left rows of bullet holes in the corrugated iron walls. Ricochet bullets flew everywhere in the warehouse, whistling sharply.
But Wang Zhengyang is no longer in that position.
The instant the AK fired, he had already used his telekinesis to move 10 meters laterally in the air, and at the same time completed the reloading action—the three empty guns automatically ejected their magazines, and three new magazines filled with bullets flew out from the special belt on his waist and were precisely inserted into the gun handle. The whole process was smooth and took less than 0.8 seconds.
Natasha watched all this from atop the shipping container, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She had seen her father train, seen former mercenaries practice tactics, but she had never seen a battle like this—no, this was no longer a battle, it was… a miracle.
The next thirty seconds became Natasha's unforgettable lesson in killing.
Wang Zhengyang hovered above the side of the warehouse, and the three pistols fired again, but this time the shooting pattern was completely different.
The first gun opened fire with suppressive fire—bullets rained down on the warehouse's tin roof, creating a dense clanging sound. Each bullet pierced the metal sheeting, exploding inside and preventing anyone inside from raising their head. The tin roof was riddled with holes, and moonlight streamed through them, forming thin beams of light inside the warehouse.
The second gun was used for precise wall-penetrating shots—Wang Zhengyang used his supernatural abilities to sense the warehouse's layout and the enemy's exact location. The bullet entered at a specific angle, passing through the corrugated iron walls, wooden crates, and furniture, accurately hitting the enemy hiding behind them.
"puff!"
Scarface, who had been hiding behind the cargo container, peeked out to check the situation when a bullet struck him in the temple from the side. His head snapped to the right, his body went limp, and the AK slipped from his hand and flew a considerable distance.
"Damn it! He's shooting through the wall!" Old Han roared from under the table, "Don't show your face! Don't—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"
Three bullets pierced the solid wood table almost simultaneously—the first bullet pierced the table leg, causing the table to tilt; the second bullet grazed Old Han's ear, taking away a piece of flesh; the third bullet hit his right scapula, the bullet lodged in the bone, and the released kinetic energy sent him crashing backward into the wall.
"Ah—!" Old Han screamed in agony.
The third gun silently drifted to the warehouse ventilation opening. It wasn't a regular opening, but a pried-open access panel, just large enough for a person to crawl through. The muzzle silently probed inside, aiming at the warehouse interior.