Empire of Shadows

Soon, one of Mador's companions returned to the company. Lance was chatting with others, but when they saw him return alone, everyone stopped.

"We found dripping gun oil in that room."

"There's no one in the room. We've guarded the front and back entrances. The person is likely still in the building!"

"We need to seal off the entire apartment building to find this person!"

Gun oil is only used when performing gun maintenance. Lance felt a faint throbbing in his temples.

He nodded and looked at Elvin, "Get some people, bring weapons."

As for Lance?

He certainly wouldn't take the risk!

This was the Imperial District. Elvin simply went outside and blew his whistle for a while. In less than six or seven minutes, forty or fifty people ran over from the surrounding area.

After Elvin briefly assigned tasks, he handed over command of a portion of the people to Mador.

At this moment, in the easternmost room on the third floor, the old assassin stood by the window, looking outside.

Below was a trash can, about one and a half meters tall, made of iron.

Silent comedies had used trash cans as special props more than once, showing how actors could escape encirclements in the plot, but from a realistic point of view, it wasn't practical.

Because you don't know if there's anything in the seemingly soft household waste below that could hurt you.

Like a rusty piece of wood full of nails?

Or some wood fibers, or some glass inside, or even some fish bones, bones, some hard fragments.

These things could cause fatal injuries when a person falls heavily!

So, what the old man valued was the trash can itself. Its hollow design and iron shell could minimize the buffer force after they jumped down, and it was filled with trash.

When the iron shell and trash came into contact, the impact force could also be dispersed.

But the problem now was that there were people in the alley.

Jumping down from here would be seen by at least three or four people, which was very troublesome.

His grandson looked at him calmly. The two looked at each other for a while. The old assassin already realized that he most likely wouldn't be able to escape this time.

"There are very professional people around him, either our colleagues or assassins. We'll see them soon."

"One of the reasons for this failure is that we don't know enough about the people around Lance. I was too careless."

"I thought no one would notice opening the window in that position. I shouldn't have stared at them either. They're too sensitive."

"Next time, when you assassinate him, you must remember this. Don't expose your intentions when you're not prepared to act."

"This apartment building is no longer valuable to use. Lance will definitely enter and exit from the main entrance in the future. We can't see that."

"They may screen all the recent tenants in the surrounding area. Tell that gentleman to wait for a while."

"We need him to relax his vigilance again. Also, you need to heal your injuries."

The young assassin didn't say a word, but naturally remembered every word the old assassin said in his heart.

He knew that this time the old assassin was finished. He was doomed.

He didn't foolishly let his grandfather try to break through, which would not only lead to a faster death but also expose him.

The old assassin had taught him many times that in some dangerous moments, choosing correctly is often more important than acting recklessly!

At the same time, you must control your emotions. Emotions and eyes are the easiest things to betray you.

When he was a child, in order to help him manage his emotions, his grandfather would let him raise many small animals, and then kill these small animals in front of him, and finally eat them.

He wanted the young assassin to understand that as an assassin, any unnecessary emotions were irresponsible to himself.

Just like now, both knew that the old assassin had to die this time, but neither showed any other expression, maintaining the same emotionless control.

The old assassin took out three pistol magazines, placed them in a row on the bed, and after checking that each magazine and pistol could function normally, he told his grandson to stand still.

Then he quickly picked up the pistol and fired several shots at him!

He used small-caliber bullets, which are often used for close-range assassinations, with almost no loud noise. The bullets hit the young assassin, and the wounds looked a little scary, but none were fatal.

His blood wouldn't even flow out much, even after a long time!

Of course, it was definitely painful. He slowly lay on the ground and was dragged into the bathroom by the old assassin, then his hands and feet were tied up.

The two looked at each other for a moment, perhaps realizing that this was their last meeting. A trace of emotional change flickered in the young assassin's eyes.

The old assassin slapped him hard, "Control your emotions."

After he finished speaking, he left the bathroom without looking back, and then began to sort out the remaining things.

He placed the magazines in a convenient place, then unpacked the tarpaulin and took out the rifle.

The rifle can also be used for combat, but its operability is definitely not as good as that of a pistol, but the first few shots will definitely give the people outside the door a surprise!

He sat quietly in the chair and poured himself a glass of water. There was seasonal fruit on the table, as well as a few high-calorie sweet biscuits.

He slowly chewed, even able to hear the footsteps in the corridor.

He unhurriedly pressed the biscuit crumbs with his fingers, so they would stick to his fingertips, and finally ate them all.

He slowly wiped his hands, feeling that those people were already standing outside the door. He slowly raised his rifle, making the butt of the gun rest better on his shoulder.

Pull the bolt, prepare to shoot!

The moment the knock on the door sounded, it was as if the starting gun in the referee's hand was fired. He completed a bolt action the moment the gun fired, then a second shot!

The unlucky guy who was knocking on the door was shot in the chest. The moment people in the entire building heard the gunshot, they swarmed over.

Mador looked at his companion who was breathing rapidly and vomiting blood, and a look of sorrow appeared in his eyes.

Having come down from the battlefield, he sometimes knew how to judge better than those doctors!

He wouldn't live!

The man with the gunshot wound gripped his wrist tightly, staring at him with a ferocious expression.

Mador felt the painful strength with which his wrist was being gripped. He knew what his old buddy meant. He took out his gun, but was stopped by another old comrade.

Before he could even look up, that old comrade fired his gun in advance.

The bullet pierced the injured comrade's head. The people in the corridor looked at all this in shock and silence. Mador felt that the strength from his hand disappeared in an instant, but he didn't feel any relief!

After a few shots were fired in the room, the gunshots stopped. Everyone looked at the wooden door with three holes in it.

Mador slowly put his comrade down. He knew that letting his comrade be tortured by despair for dozens of seconds before dying was not as good as giving him a quick death.

And that was what his comrade wanted.

He stood up, walked to the side of the door, had someone bring a fire axe, and swung it hard at the doorknob.

First, break down the door, and then deal with that bastard!

The doorknob didn't last long and fell to the ground in one huge smash. Mador could feel that the assassin inside was holding a gun behind an obstacle, aiming at the position of the door.

His hand was on the door, and he pushed it inward. Wood chips flew everywhere on the door panel the moment it was pushed!

He used the fire axe to brace against the door and pushed it inward again, and two more gunshots rang out in succession.

Three shots, two more left (after reloading).

The open door was actually suppressed by a gun and two bullets, and no one dared to look inside. Perhaps this was the old assassin's most glorious moment in his life!

No longer a killer hiding in the shadows, but a warrior on the front line!

His heartbeat didn't even change much, calmly watching the open door. Although there were only two bullets left in his rifle, he could guarantee that they would never be able to get in without paying a price.

It seemed that everything was at a standstill.

Mador glanced at the brother lying on the ground and suddenly asked someone to lend a hand and have someone pick him up.

Although doing so was a bit disrespectful to his corpse, Mador believed that he was willing to avenge himself!

The moment the corpse appeared at the doorway, the highly tense nerves made the old assassin fire two shots in a row. As soon as these two shots were fired, he unhesitatingly dropped the rifle in his hand, took out the pistol placed beside him, and fired two shots.

When he realized it was just a corpse, they had already begun to fight back!

Bullets flew everywhere in an instant! Almost everything in the room was "dancing." The table kept shifting, the picture frame was smashed to pieces and then fell down, and many cracks appeared in the spring bed!

The old assassin was also shot, in the ribs.

It might have been a ricochet. He could feel the hot, wet blood flowing out of his body, but his breathing and heartbeat still didn't change much.

He kept looking for opportunities to shoot, he just wanted to take more people with him!

When his pistol ran out of the last bullet, Mador rushed forward in one go. The old assassin didn't have time to change the magazine. He directly threw the pistol in his hand at Mador.

Then he pulled out his dagger and pounced over.

At such a close distance, those people didn't dare to shoot, it would definitely be a friendly fire!

When he saw Mador clearly, he was slightly stunned.

It was this person who had made eye contact with him from dozens of meters away not long ago. It was that seemingly inadvertent eye contact that directly exposed them!

The two wrestled together, but fortunately, the others weren't like the idiot who just stood by watching. They rushed forward and pinned the old assassin to the ground.

He took many punches and kicks to his body and head, but he didn't make a sound.

By the time he was pulled up, he was already on his last breath.

Mador saw the wound on his ribs; the bullet had penetrated. Just like his assessment of his comrade's injuries, he knew this old guy was a goner.

It wasn't that the injury couldn't be treated, but there wasn't enough time!

For the ambulance to arrive and take him to the hospital would take at least twenty or thirty minutes.

He wouldn't even last until the ambulance arrived, let alone leave with it!

"Search the place."

Mador and the others began searching the entire room. Before long, someone shouted from the bathroom, "There's someone here!"

The already weakened old assassin calmly watched them enter the bathroom, calmly watched them carry the young assassin out, his eyes without a trace of emotion.

The fear on the young assassin's face didn't seem fake. He groaned weakly, as if he had been groaning for a long time, until he had no strength left.

"It should be the resident here."

They found a photo frame with a picture of a young man on the bedside table. At that moment, they pieced together the truth.

After being exposed, the old assassin came to this room. He shot and injured the young man, then threw him into the bathroom.

Until this moment.

"You're really lucky!"

Mador thought of his comrade.

He observed that although the young man had been shot four times, only one shot seemed fatal.

But the fact that he had survived until now meant that it only looked like it.

Lance didn't want any innocent people to die, so they called an ambulance. By the time the ambulance arrived, Mador had already passed away.

They packed up Mador's belongings and took them back.

Lance had heard the intense gunfire long ago. When they brought back a corpse, Lance sighed.

The old assassin is dead too. Lance glanced at his body. "Find a way to see if we can find out this person's identity information, and see if there's a chance to dig out who hired him."

He walked to the body of Mador's comrade and mourned for a while. "Provide compensation according to the gang's rules, and notify his family."

Their families had been brought over by Lance, thinking that leaving the empire could escape the fate of dying on the battlefield.

Unexpectedly, after running so far, death still caught up with him!

During the time before his family arrived, Lance asked, "What you said is too thrilling. Isn't that young man too lucky?"

He looked at Mador, "You said he has amazing shooting skills. There's no reason to show mercy to an ordinary person."

"And he was shot four times, but there wasn't a single fatal wound. Don't you think this is a bit unreasonable?"

Mador was stunned for a moment, and suddenly realized that there had always been two assassins!

He turned around and ran outside, and the others followed him. They also realized it.

Regardless of whether Lance's words made sense, they had to go and see.

It's actually easy to identify whether a person is an assassin!

Especially assassins who use sniper skills; they must go through a lot of shooting training to maintain or improve their shooting accuracy.

Just touching the young man's hand will reveal whether he is an assassin!

At this time, the young man endured the severe pain and opened his eyes. There was only a male nurse and a male doctor in the ambulance.

In this era, there were very few female nurses in ambulances. They would only dispatch female nurses if they were requested by phone. If there was no request, only male nurses would be dispatched.

The doctor and nurse actively walked over, asking him to lie down again and not to mess around. However, in the next second, he didn't know where he pulled out a punch dagger, quickly cut the nurse's throat, and then inserted the punch dagger into the doctor's throat!

The two struggled, clutching their throats. The doctor couldn't care about anything else; he was trying to free himself!

As for the nurse, he could only cover his neck and lie on the ground.

His carotid artery was cut open, and blood flowed out like a faucet being turned on.

The young assassin opened the rear door. While pulling on the straps used to secure the patient's body, he slid down.

After being dragged on the ground for more than ten meters, he let go, grunted, rolled a few times on the ground, and stopped.

Then, in the stunned gazes of passersby, he got up and quickly disappeared into the alley.

He needed to remove the bullets, reduce the inflammation, and then recuperate for a while.

Seven or eight minutes later, Mador caught up with the ambulance, but only saw two corpses. He cursed "Fuck," but didn't know where to start looking.

After circling the car twice, he returned disappointedly.

When he returned to the office, the family members of the comrade had already arrived. They were softly weeping around the body.

Lance saw Mador come back and greeted him, "Where is the person?"

He was a little annoyed, "He killed the doctor and nurse halfway and ran away."

"Can you still remember what he looks like?" Lance asked.

Mador was a little embarrassed, "I didn't observe his appearance carefully. I have to ask someone else about this."

He understood what Lance meant, "I'll have them make a sketch."

Lance patted him on the arm, "Deal with the matters inside first."

Seeing Mador come in, the crying of these family members became louder. They surrounded Mador and babbled something. Lance didn't eavesdrop.

It was nothing more than complaining and blaming Mador for not taking good care of him.

However, in the end, these people accepted the fact, because what Lance gave was indeed a lot!

After comforting the deceased's family, Mador found someone who could draw and then made a sketch.

Lance had never seen the young man, but he knew that this drawing must be a bit off, because no one would look so strange.

But having something is better than nothing. He then had someone send it to the police station, telling Branch Chief Blue that he was related to the ambulance murder case.

In less than an hour, the entire King's Port City began to hunt down this guy, and Lance offered a reward of five thousand dollars.

Although it was unknown how long it would take to find him, the good news was that his injuries wouldn't heal in a short time.

Everyone was a little silent. Several people had died some time ago, and another one died today. Although everyone's relationships were close or distant, they were all members of the same family after all.

Even if they didn't know each other and only greeted each other occasionally.

The next day, the sun rose as usual, and everyone's emotions seemed to have eased a little after the sadness.

They still had many things to do and couldn't stop and grieve for a long time, but everyone became more careful.

Almost all the cars were fitted with steel plates, and Lance even had people get two minibuses and convert them into mobile armored vehicles, which might come in handy at any time.

The young assassin seemed to disappear in an instant and there was no news of him anymore.

The Wolf Gang's bar was also being renovated, but obviously, even if it could open, there wouldn't be too many people.

No one would risk being sprayed with bullets to drink there.

As the weather got hotter and hotter, and the time came to the end of the month, Wally, the client manager of Barz Investment Bank, finally called Lance.

"The president has time in the next two days..."