Chapter 8: Sweeping the Factory (Seeking Recommendation Tickets)
"Hey, you guys are..."
Outside the auto repair shop, two gunmen with rifles looked warily at the van parked at the door.
"Bang! Bang!"
The silenced gunshots were muffled. The two gunmen were shot in the head and fell to the ground without a sound. Alejandro held his pistol with both hands, tilted it slightly, and shot the three gunmen in the guard post. He put the pistol back in its holster and pulled out an M40A3 sniper rifle from the back seat. This was the military version of the Remington 700 hunting rifle, modified with a heavier stainless steel barrel.
He needed to climb onto the roof of the repair shop to snipe the gunmen in the blind spots and monitor the surroundings, to spot the Reyes Group's reinforcements as soon as possible.
Broly walked to the door of the auto repair shop, his rifle slung casually.
Inside the auto repair shop, a group of women were making drugs, and their working environment was extremely harsh. The Reyes Group didn't provide them with any safety equipment: hot air, poisonous acid mist, choking fumes, and flickering high-pressure sodium lamps, all of which were harming their health.
Because they had inhaled too many toxic chemicals, the women's skin was rough and covered with spots, their limbs were thin, their bodies were shrunken, and their expressions were somewhat dull, as if they were walking corpses.
They were prisoners of this factory, sold from all over the place by Reyes, working day and night in the factory. The longest of them hadn't seen the sun for three years, and there were even longer ones, but they were "cleaned up" by the managers because of illness.
A few gunmen supervised them, preventing them from secretly consuming the finished products. Because they had been working in the drug factory for a long time, almost all of them were addicted.
The remaining gunmen were in the three offices of the auto repair shop. They were mostly wearing Hawaiian shirts, and some were shirtless, revealing tattoos on their arms. The air conditioner in the office was on full blast. The gunmen were drinking iced whiskey and smoking cigars while playing cards, with stacks of US dollars on the table.
"Boom!"
An irresistible giant force ripped the iron door of the office from its frame. The heavy iron door flew and slammed into a gunman, pasting him against the wall.
Broly walked in. The gunmen were startled to see someone suddenly break in, and they were somewhat flustered.
A gunman tried to pick up the pistol on the table and shoot, but before he could pull the trigger, he was hit in the chest. A crackling sound of broken ribs, his chest caved in a large piece, and his internal organs were smashed into mud.
He stepped forward, one punch for each, and within two seconds, he killed more than a dozen gunmen.
Some of the quick-reacting gunmen finally drew their pistols and rifles and began to shoot. Broly picked up his rifle and shot back at them.
A burst of gunfire like exploding beans came from the office. The whistling bullets pierced through holes in the tables and chairs, and the whiskey that was shot through flowed everywhere. Fragments of playing cards and US dollars flew in the air.
After a while, the gunfire suddenly quieted down.
Accompanied by a few sounds of glass bottles being stepped on and the sound of glass scraping on the floor tiles, Broly walked out of the office, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. There were four or five bullet holes in his clothes, but only a blood spot on his skin. The bullets were almost unable to penetrate his skin.
He had already tested it beforehand. When rifles and pistols fired ordinary bullets, as long as they didn't hit vital points, they would only hurt but not injure. Among light weapons, only higher-energy sniper rifles and machine guns could threaten him.
Even so, he still tried not to be hit by bullets because it really hurt. The pain made him angry, and his combat power began to soar.
"Quién está ahí? Quién es el enemigo?"
The gunfire in the office alerted the gunmen in the other offices. They were on high alert and asked in Broly's direction.
"Bang!"
A gunman who was secretly pulling the pin of a grenade was suddenly shot in the head by a bullet from the top floor. The grenade rolled to the ground, and the remaining gunmen rushed out of the office. They had only run a few steps before they were shot down by Broly.
He was like a hunter hunting rabbits during the hunting season, shooting down these fleeing gunmen, occasionally swinging his rifle, like hitting a baseball, and smashing the gunmen who tried to rush up to melee into meat paste.
"Uninteresting."
Broly put away his rifle, feeling somewhat bored. As a legendary Super Saiyan, new power was constantly surging from the depths of his body, making him even stronger.
Dealing with these gunmen could no longer give him any enjoyment of battle.
[Ding, congratulations to the host for leveling up to level five, and gaining a skill point] [Ding, one hundred kills, a successful Saiyan people must be covered in blood, the host has killed more than one hundred people, rewards twenty resurrection points, congratulations to the host for obtaining the skill Oolong Transformation Technique]
???
Broly was puzzled. This transformation technique, which only had a five-minute transformation time, was truly awkward. He might as well add points to his points and exchange it for the Puar Transformation Technique, at least there was no time limit.
Alejandro, carrying a sniper rifle, slid down from the roof via a rope. He used his finger to pry open the door of the office, glanced at the scene inside, and then looked at the corpses scattered all over the floor.
"This scene is a bit too big; I can't handle it alone."
The corners of his mouth twitched. Some people's bodies were pierced through by fists, and blood and internal organs sprayed everywhere. After hesitating for a moment, he pulled out an old cell phone from his pocket and made a call.
"This is Alejandro; a big party of eighty people, I need you guys to clean up the scene." He sent the satellite positioning coordinates.
Alejandro explained to Broly.
"This is a group that specializes in cleaning up scenes for assassins. They are very professional, and they keep their mouths shut."
"What about those women?" Broly said, "I only kill warriors, not ordinary people."
"We are wearing hoods, they didn't see anything, but if we let them go directly, they will surely die, or we can throw them to the Mexican police afterward."
Alejandro hesitated for a moment before saying. He held his gun and drove those frightened women into the auto repair shop's kitchen and locked the door.
They didn't wait too long, and the sound of a helicopter's blades hitting the air came from the sky. A medium-sized transport plane landed on the dirt road outside the auto repair shop. More than a dozen people, still wearing jackets in the hot weather, got out of the plane. They were also carrying large bags and small bags of professional tools.
"Alejandro, it's been a long time since you contacted us."
An old man with gray hair, but wearing a very stylish leather jacket, took off his hat and gestured to Alejandro.
"When I was working for the CIA, I didn't need to do the cleaning work myself."
Alejandro said with some heartache.
"The CIA doesn't do this job as cleanly as we do, Alejandro."
The old man said, snapping his fingers to signal his subordinates to start working. Facing the scene that was obviously not caused by ordinary people, their faces didn't change at all.
"To tell the truth, if I were a canner, I would have made a fortune long ago."
He looked at the corpses all over the ground and whistled.
The meat scraps, organ fragments, and broken bones on the ground were swept into body bags. The bullets embedded in the walls were picked out with tweezers, and the bullet casings were swept into a pile. Fingerprints and bloodstains were sprayed with professional cleaning spray and wiped away.
Before long, rolls of corpses, taped with tape, were loaded onto the plane.
Alejandro painfully took out two rolls of gold coins from his pocket and handed them to the old man.
"Welcome to find me next time."
The old man flicked his cigarette and took the gold coins, getting into the plane in a dashing manner.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
ps: This book has been uploaded for a week, and I haven't swiped any votes or advertised. The results are not very ideal. If I want more people to see this book, I can only rely on the list. Next Monday, the new book list will be refreshed. I hope everyone can vote for Lao Yang with the votes in their hands. If I don't sign a contract, I can't update too fast. After signing the contract, I will definitely update two chapters to reward everyone.
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