Matthew lay on the ground immediately, looking at the cigarette butt just in front of him, with only one last puff left.
He was hit at least twenty or thirty times, possibly.
He wasn't thinking about saving himself or anything, but used all his strength to pick up the cigarette, put it in his mouth, squinting slightly, and took another puff.
There would be no later.
The gunfire had not ended, those young men held their guns and wildly fired at the people inside the carriage, bullets poured on the armored vehicle like torrential rain.
Twenty seconds later, the gunfire stopped.
The body of the vehicle was full of large holes and small eyes, and no one inside could stand.
Two young men changed magazines and got onto the vehicle to give the lying bodies a final shot.
Then the group quickly left by car, leaving behind Matthew outside, the bodies inside, and a disposable vehicle.
