The truck's roof peeled open as Yuche folded the armor plates outward.
Steel screamed above the trapped men, and one of the guards fired through the gap before he could even understand what was happening. His rifle collapsed around his hands, crushing the bones with the metal.
Lingyun climbed onto the hood and looked down into the ruined command vehicle.
Four men remained inside, with Qiao Ren seated in the center in a grey coat over body armor. Most of the color had drained from his face, but he was still looking more offended than actually frightened.
"You're injured," Qiao Ren pointed out like that was a point in his favor.
Lingyun glanced at the blood spreading through the bandages beneath his shirt. "So people keep telling me."
"You can't hold this market. Head Luo had agreements you don't understand," Qiao Ren continued like the two of them were sitting in the middle of a conference room and not the middle of a battlefield.
"Head Luo's dead."
