Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 84 - 74: No Pain

Chapter 84: Chapter 74: No Pain

"He’s still chasing? Ahhhh!"

The driver running ahead was gasping for breath, confused and terrified, which made him yell out in despair.

The driver was also an assassin. They were using walkie-talkies during the operation, so they could speak directly.

"Why does he keep chasing?"

Holding a walkie-talkie in one hand and a phone in the other, the commander was also in a car but not exposed.

He just watched the figures in the distance, one chasing the other, and exclaimed with a shocked face, "Is he crazy?"

"What’s going on?"

The person on the phone, puzzled and very much so, then asked urgently, "What’s the situation now?"

"The target is confirmed dead. I’m very sure. But that guy near the target is chasing my man like a madman. Falke! Sorry, I’m just a bit agitated."

Ignoring the commander’s swear words, the person on the phone said grimly, "Still chasing him? Is he crazy? Very angry?"

"Um, extremely angry. He used the target’s body to shield himself from bullets and then charged out, killing three people and made an escape route, but he didn’t choose to leave. My men have all left voluntarily, but he chased after them..."

The commander was somewhat at a loss for words, and then he said helplessly, "I don’t have anyone left who can take this guy down. I didn’t even bring a gun, and the police are here, I can’t make a move, I..."

The person on the phone was very impatient, "No one cares if he’s crazy. Did you say he charged out using the target’s body to block bullets?"

"Yes."

"Can you see clearly?"

"Very clearly. I just don’t understand; if he is an assassin, then why would he chase after them? Could it be that he wants to avenge the target?"

If Busan is extremely angry and seeks revenge for Gardener recklessly, it means their relationship could be much deeper than expected.

But, using Gardener’s body to block bullets was like... venting anger?

Venting anger is a common occurrence in the underworld. An assassin, or rather consumable, taking revenge for a middleman, known as "gecko," is rare.

"If you were about to get twenty million dollars and suddenly found out it’s gone, what would you do?"

The commander faltered, then said, "Twenty million? Um, I’d go crazy. Understood. If it were me, I’d definitely kill everyone who cost me that twenty million, not sparing a single one."

"No need to worry about it. Let him be. Have the police arrived?"

"Yes."

"Then let’s see what this guy is going to do. I’m a bit curious. What about you? Want to bet? I bet he won’t get caught by the police."

The voice on the phone had already relaxed and even started joking, making bets.

The commander chuckled nervously and said, "I also think he won’t get caught, London police... sorry, I can’t take that bet with you."

The call ended, the commander sighed, smirked, and pressed the walkie-talkie, angrily saying, "He’s chasing you and you’re just running? Can’t you kill him?"

"Falke’s oil! Falke, Falke!"

The man running shouted angrily. He dared not stay; he was afraid the person following him might catch up and shoot him.

Glancing back, that madman was indeed catching up and getting closer.

Originally, the driver hadn’t drawn his gun since the distance was too far for a pistol to be accurate, and also could attract police attention.

But now, he had to draw his gun.

In grief and anger, the driver pulled out his gun and turned around, firing at Gao Yi from a distance.

The distance was at least seventy to eighty meters. Gao Yi had delayed a bit when he stopped the car to reload and then got out to pursue, but as the driver had been wearing a seatbelt, he wasn’t hurt in the crash, just a bit dizzy at first. Now, all that was left was fear.

The commander was still shouting over the walkie-talkie.

"You’re an assassin too, what are you afraid of? Turn around and kill him!"

"Falke’s oil! Bastard!"

If he died, he wouldn’t have to be paid; the driver was very clear about that, now those who set him up would rather he died.

The restaurant king had left the restaurant, and the hammer demon had no hammer.

But glancing back and seeing the way the restaurant king charged, the driver felt a visceral fear.

How could an assassin start feeling fear?

Helplessly, the driver turned around, and the fear of death made him quicken his pace.

Running along the road might eventually lead to being caught anyway. Ahead was a shopping mall. He might as well duck in there.

Halting another glance back, the driver despaired.

Why was he still being chased? Why couldn’t he shake him off?

The driver continued running, lowering his head and blending into the crowd, rushing out.

Across the intersection, just using the crowd in the mall had caused a bit of chaos, but it didn’t extend the distance between them; it seemed even closer.

The driver was in despair, truly in despair.

Then, at that moment, the driver suddenly spotted a police car.

This was a responding police car, only one, so it was a patrol car nearby. Given the London police’s reaction speed and emergency handling capability, seeing a large group of armed officers would take at least half an hour.

The driver ran into the road, blocking the police car.

Hiding the gun in his jacket, he stretched out a hand towards the stopped police car and yelled, "There’s a terrorist there! He’s killing indiscriminately. Stop him!"

Two policemen got out of the car, and that madman was still running toward this side, running toward the police car.

Can’t the cops scare him off?

An assassin, what was he after?

Now the driver started to become scared; he really was. He thought the police could stop that madman.

Two policemen, they were drawing their guns.

The driver couldn’t wait any longer—he suddenly turned and ran again.

But after a few steps, hearing something odd from behind, the driver turned in shock and saw one policeman had fallen to the ground, struggling to get up, while the other was flailing and sliding off the police car hood.

That deadly restaurant hammer demon was now right in front of him, less than ten meters away, and still coming at him.

"No..."

The driver raised a hand, re-drawing his gun, but then he saw the restaurant King of Killers raise a handgun toward him.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop — six shots, ten meters, six shots.

Desperately, the driver raised both hands in front of himself. He realized he didn’t seem to be shot, but before he could feel relief, he saw the hammer-less hammer demon dropping his gun handle.

Everything went black before the driver’s eyes. He didn’t feel pain, only seeming to hear a loud crash from his own skull.

The driver was lucky because he died without any pain.