Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 519 - 498 Yuri’s Revenge

Chapter 519: Chapter 498 Yuri’s Revenge

Some things look hard but are simple to do.

Some things look simple but turn out to be hard once you try.

Difficulty and simplicity are relative—just concepts, nothing more.

For Yuri, one phrase might be more fitting:

"Hard for those who don’t know, simple for those who do."

Launching a one-man assault on a billionaire’s family-with-many-bodyguards might seem hard, but Yuri was simply here to finish the job.

Yuri approached a bedroom, a room that, most of the time, was occupied.

He pushed open the door. The bed was empty, but the state of the bedding showed it had been recently occupied.

Each room was a suite, with a bathroom and a walk-in closet—standard for a villa designed to house many people.

However, the people inside didn’t have a chance to leave. So, they were still here, just needed to be found.

Yuri didn’t walk toward the bed. He turned and went to the walk-in closet, firing a shot into the closed wardrobe. After he heard the sound of something heavy hitting the solid wood inside, he lowered his gun and fired another shot.

On a side note, a billionaire’s walk-in closet could rival the size of many office workers’ apartments.

Yuri pulled open the wardrobe door and saw an old woman collapsed between two rows of hanging clothes.

Raising his gun, Yuri fired a shot into the nose bridge of the already wounded old woman, then stepped back from the wardrobe.

Yuri was terrifyingly calm, his cold-bloodedness a source of utter hopelessness.

Exiting the bedroom, Yuri returned to the position near the stairwell. Seeing the elevator still stuck on the third floor, unmoved, he prepared to head upstairs.

The second floor housed only one old woman, which made clearing it simple.

The gunshots were loud. Three shots on the second floor—surely the remaining people in the villa knew something was happening.

"Yuri!"

A heart-wrenching scream rang out.

Yuri didn’t respond, silently raising his gun toward the stairs.

"Yuri!"

The shouting continued—what’s the point?

Yuri waited for a moment. Seeing no one coming down, he began stepping slowly up the stairs.

There wouldn’t be too many bodyguards left. At least two, at most four. Based on the current situation, Yuri figured only two bodyguards remained.

The target himself was quite capable, but Yuri doubted that after living decadently as a rich man for over a decade, he still had much of his former combat prowess or ruthlessness.

Is he breaking down just from losing a mother?

If so, he’s way too fragile.

The ongoing shouts, unanswered by Yuri, turned into wild screams of rage, "I’m going to kill you! I’ll kill you!"

Yuri remained indifferent.

Nearing the third floor, Yuri paused. Exhaling quietly, he suddenly extended his gun sideways around the wall corner and pulled the trigger.

Firing with his left hand, gripping the foregrip with his right, holding the gun fully extended.

It wasn’t just Africans who believed in blind firing. Shooting at unseen targets was a common and practical choice, often seen in combat.

As the bullets ran low, Yuri paused, ceasing to pull the trigger and letting the violently recoiling muzzle settle. Then, holding the gun single-handedly with his left, he reached for the rifle slung across his back with his right hand.

With his left hand still pulling the trigger, finishing off the last five bullets, Yuri stopped firing. The gunshots abruptly ceased.

The AK74 lacked a bolt-hold-open feature, so with the bullets exhausted, the bolt remained forward. Yuri needed to insert a fresh magazine and pull back the charging handle to fire again.

Yuri withdrew the gun with his left hand. With a flick of his right, he swiftly and silently grasped the grip of the slung rifle.

That was the moment.

If the target’s bodyguards were experts, this would be their critical opportunity. And if Yuri’s move worked, it could only catch experts off guard.

Even with the fastest reload, there’s always a pause—even fractions of a second matter.

Reloading and pulling the charging handle would inevitably take over a second.

The combat position was fixed. The opponents were numerous while Yuri was alone. They needed to protect their principal, so they had to seize this prime opportunity.

If the opponents were poor fighters, such high-level tactics would be irrelevant—because nobody could predict what an amateur might think or do.

But against a veteran with years of training—a proven pro who had emerged victorious from fierce competition—every single move was within Yuri’s calculations.

It wasn’t magic, just a deep understanding of the opponent.

A simple move worked.

The two bodyguards hiding by the corner for an ambush leapt out in unison, seizing the precious moment to try and kill Yuri.

Whether Yuri was reloading or switching to a handgun, it would’ve been impossible to kill both bodyguards simultaneously—one would have had the chance to kill him.

But Yuri’s second rifle changed everything.

Yuri, holding the gun single-handedly, dropped to the ground. The stock rested on the floor as the muzzle angled outward.

Lying prone, Yuri waited for the two men to rush into his line of fire.

Both men appeared at once, one high, one low, with both barrels aiming at an empty space.

Had Yuri been standing or crouching, he’d have been hit, but he was lying down.

Yuri pulled the trigger. Bullets poured out in succession. Even his empty gun was still useful—he raised it upward, its precise muzzle striking and deflecting one of theirs.

With a slight downward adjustment, the opponent’s muzzle aiming at Yuri was pushed off target, while Yuri’s rifle shifted minutely to continue firing spray shots. The bullets struck both of their jaws.

An opportunity—a fleeting moment for a coordinated attack to sacrifice one to kill Yuri—was instead neutralized in a ridiculous fashion.

Yuri, however, used a shooting stance notoriously hard to control to take out both assailants.

Even fractions of a second—ten-thousandths—were enough to dictate life or death.

Yuri ceased fire, throwing his now-empty rifle aside just as gunfire erupted again, bullets striking nothing but air.

Yuri rose swiftly, performing a kip-up, yet he didn’t stand fully but twisted mid-air, landing atop the two collapsed men, bracing with one hand, twisting his gun to fire at the shadow within arm’s length.

The opponent’s right hand holding the gun was shot, followed swiftly by his right leg. Yuri first eliminated the opponent’s ability to shoot but wasn’t done yet. Propping himself up with his left hand for leverage, he rushed forward forcefully, shoving the foregrip downward in a bayonet-like move.

The opponent’s gun was batted out of reach. Using his left hand to shoot became impossible.

The opponent reached for a pistol with his left hand, but Yuri opened fire again, the bullets striking his left wrist. That wasn’t enough assurance, so Yuri fired once more, his next shot piercing the opponent’s right arm.

The bullet shattered bone, rendering the strength to pull a trigger useless.

Yuri fired twice more, both hitting the knees.

With the target’s limbs crippled, resistance ended. From now on, the man was just Solevsky once more.

"Yuri!"

Solevsky couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t understand. Moments ago, he’d been screaming with rage, but now, only terror remained.

"Kill me, but spare my children! Please!"

Sensing reality’s gravity, Solevsky began to grovel, submitting without delay.

Yuri discarded his rifle—its purpose fulfilled.

He drew his pistol, stepped beside Solevsky, and bent down to pull a PM pistol from Solevsky’s waist, casually tossing it aside. He then flipped Solevsky over to retrieve another handgun from his lower back.

Absolute confidence came from absolute control. Absolute control arose from absolute understanding of the enemy.

Yuri grabbed Solevsky’s shattered left arm and dragged him toward the bedroom.

Solevsky was crushed, but more so enraged.

"No! Just kill me already, alright?"

Angry and desperate, he begged, knowing it was futile, yet he pleaded for an impossible miracle.

Yuri suddenly said, "When you threatened Man Lin’s family, did he beg you? When Man Lin begged you to spare them, how did you answer?"

Solevsky was speechless.

Yuri continued softly, "You betrayed the Soviet Union—I don’t care. You sabotaged our operations—I don’t care. You used Man Lin’s family to force him to reveal everything—I still don’t care. But you slaughtered Man Lin’s entire family, so I have to avenge him."

"He wouldn’t talk... I had to kill his... It was my job—you must understand."

Solevsky didn’t even know why he blurted such a line.

Yuri, still composed, said evenly, "I understand your work. That’s why killing others is just cleaning things up. But killing you is for vengeance—for Man Lin’s vengeance. You made Man Lin watch as you killed his entire family. So now, I’ll make you watch as I kill yours."

While speaking, Yuri abruptly kicked open a door, shooting as he entered. A young man holding a pistol went down instantly.

Solevsky’s son. A young man—completely untrained.

Solevsky screamed with all his might, "No! No, stop!"

"Your mother is dead, your son is dead. Now, it’s your wife’s turn."

A middle-aged woman stood trembling. She carried an air of elegance, but now all of it was slipping away.

Yuri fired another shot; the fifty-something woman fell instantly.

Yuri said calmly, "You tortured and killed Man Lin’s youngest son."

Solevsky’s eyes widened in terror.

Yuri continued, "Man Lin’s son was twelve at the time. But your youngest son—he’s already sixteen."

"No, no, no..."

Solevsky began to panic.

Yuri said coldly, "Here are your wife and second son. Your eldest son is in the UK. Your daughter is also in the UK. And your illegitimate child by your mistress is in the UK as well. I will find them and kill all your children. Torture your youngest son—as per the principle of equivalence, which never grows old for me."

Solevsky screamed with all his anguish, "You’re a traitor too! You’ve already betrayed! Why must you take revenge on me? You’ve killed far more than I ever did—hundreds have died by your hands! You’re the real traitor! What gives you the right to seek revenge on me?!"

Yuri remained calm and said, "I told you. This is vengeance—for Man Lin."

With that, Yuri holstered his handgun, pulling out his folding knife. Flipping it open, he crouched slowly before Solevsky and said evenly, "Man Lin died in agony. So will you. Why get married? Why have children? Man Lin did, and now you did. I don’t get it."

Solevsky replied bleakly, "Why haven’t they stopped you? Why haven’t they sent the KGB? You’re useless now—you’re of no value anymore. Why do they still let you come after me?!"

Yuri plunged the knife into Solevsky’s abdomen, saying flatly, "Don’t think too much. It has nothing to do with you."