In the general manager's office, Winston and the adjudicator were speechless. A head worth 300 million US dollars came to the door on his own initiative, so there was no need for the two to continue arguing.
Whoever gets the head first has the right to laugh at the other party.
The adjudicator dialed the phone and allowed more than 40 heavily armed elite killers to enter the hotel, and then slowly contacted the operator. With the authority of the adjudicator, a global announcement was made to suspend the Continental Hotel in New York.
There is no circle without rules. Even if the rules are unreasonable, they still maintain the current order.
Killing is prohibited in the Continental Hotel. This seemingly unreasonable rule represents the supreme majesty of the High Table Conference.
That's why it exists!
"Mr. Winston, now I have the power to kill you."
The adjudicator snorted coldly and continued: "But you have no ability to kill me because I represent the High Table Conference."
"Yes, you should be glad that I am a person loyal to the organization, otherwise you would be dead."
Winston took his time. He could not kill the Inquisitor, but the Inquisitor could not kill him. This was also the rule. Only the High Table Council, not a dog, could kill him.
"Everyone can tell lies. Soon you will realize how incompetent you are."
"We'll see!"
The hotel's shutdown documents were approved, and the shelter no longer protected everyone from harm. The killers in the hotel took notice. They had a premonition that the hotel floor would be stained with blood today.
"I want to settle this 300 million US dollars!"
"It's me."
"..."
The killers shuttled through the hotel floors one by one, confirmed that the elevator Russell was riding had reached the basement, and rushed towards his location with a ferocious smile on his face.
Ding! !
The elevator stopped, and the tall security guard made a 'please' gesture and said politely: "This gentleman, please excuse me for accompanying you. The manager is in the wine cellar. You can see him if you keep walking forward."
Russell stepped out of the elevator and muttered: "The manager who lives in the basement...the female manager?"
Behind him, the security guard took out a pistol from his arms with a grin and pointed it at Russell's back.
After a bang, the elevator was filled with bean sprouts, and the two metal doors slowly merged.
Russell put the M9 into his holster, reached out and pressed the elevator button, and found that the elevator was locked and could not take him out of the basement.
"It's a boring trick, let me tell you first, if the appetizers are not delicious enough, I will get mad."
Russell took out the M4A1 from his pants pocket and looked for the wine cellar stairs. After a while, he came back to his senses and said, "Hey, that's not right. It seems like I just came here to get mad."
Snap!
Just as he was talking to himself, the lights in the basement were turned off, and the sound of rustling footsteps gradually became clearer in the surrounding area.
"Five people, using military night vision goggles, it's too bullying."
Russell curled his lips slightly. The five killers were well-equipped, but he could only use his five senses, mind, electromagnetism and other abilities to make positioning judgments and build a three-dimensional model to mark the coordinates. It was really bullying.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three gunshots rang out, and the bullets passed through the gaps in the barrels and accurately hit three heads.
The remaining two killers slowed down a step and hurriedly fell to the ground when they saw this. Their pistols followed the night vision goggles, looking for Russell's voice.
Then, two long legs appeared in front of him.
Bang! Bang!
After shooting two Voldemorts, Russell found the spiral staircase at the corner, counted one, two, three, four, and five, and stepped up.
one! two! three! Four! Five...six!
Six hot corpses slumped to the ground, Russell didn't look back, leaving behind gradually fading blood-red shoe prints.
On the second floor of the basement, more than ten killers swarmed in and ran very fast without touching the ground.
They heard the sound of gunfire, no, they heard the crisp sound of the 300 million US dollar knife hitting the ground. Their eyes were red, fearing that if they were too slow, they would not even get the chance to replenish their guns.
Russell entered the Continental Hotel alone. No one thought he could get out alive. Even if he had previously set a brutal record of 237 kills/0 injuries, no one thought he could continue to perform miracles.
This is the Continental Hotel, the killer's headquarters in New York, where industry elites from various countries and cities gather to perform tasks. If you pick one at random, not to mention one against ten, at least it will be an easy 1V5 high-end product.
The killers were more or less arrogant. They thought Russell could kill two hundred and thirty people in the slums, but here, even ten couldn't handle it.
"I saw him..."
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang————
A flurry of bullets swept down the scene, and except for the killer who spoke and left his last words, everyone else only left regrets.
Before a shot was fired, the man was gone.
Russell was changing the magazine, and a grenade flew in front of him. He reached out to catch it, threw it back, and hit the killer in the face as he rushed out of the stairs.
There was a loud noise, and the orange-red fireball expanded violently. Russell moved forward briskly against the shock wave. Under the ghostly gazes of the two killers, one of them gave them a peanut.
"It's just my body that can withstand explosions. I can't accept this. How dare you say you're an elite."
Russell was disdainful and secretly thought that the so-called elites were nothing more than that. Putting aside everything else, their mental quality alone was seriously unqualified.
Turning the corner of the stairs and entering the last floor of the hotel lobby, more than twenty killers hid in the corner, their long guns and short cannons exposed outside the wall, and they pulled the triggers at the same time.
The metal projectiles rushed past like a shower, turning the wall around Russell into a sieve. He frowned and closed his eyes, and the electromagnetic waves spread and positioned. Then he held the M4A1 tightly, and the moment the cross arm was thrown out, he continuously pulled the trigger.
If the frequency is too fast, there is no difference between burst shooting and holding the trigger.
After the gunfire stopped, this floor was littered with corpses, and all the killers hiding behind the wall died from bullets fired from the side.
The people who handled the corpses in the later stage would definitely not be able to understand it because of the relatively ballistic trajectory. If the bullets were not tracking and positioned, it would only mean that all the more than 20 killers were blind, and the enemies would turn a blind eye as they walked by.
But when they look at the location where the M4A1 warhead fell, they will only become more suspicious of life.
Now that he decided to go crazy, Russell had no intention of hiding the fact that he would dump the gun.
In fact, it's very simple. When you shoot, there is a trace of electromagnetism attached to it... ahem, just swinging your arm violently can give the bullet a horizontal acceleration, thus forming an arc and hitting the enemy in a roundabout way.
Yes, that’s it, it’s very scientific!
Russell's practice was pretty good, and he had mastered the self-control, and the ninety-degree right angle was no problem at all. Occasionally, when the feeling of gunfire came, he could make the bullet trace an S-shaped curve in mid-air.
It's quite shameful. He still has a long way to go before the boss lets the bullets leave the shouts of "F-beep-k" in mid-air.
In the lobby on the first floor, the huge combination window is closed by curtains, so no sunlight from the outside can shine in. In addition, the lights are turned off, and it is like a dark night falling, and you can't see your fingers.
"Tch, it's a military night vision device again, can't it be replaced with a new one?"
Russell yelled loudly, what annoys these killers who rely on equipment the most, they have no technical content at all.
After finishing the BB, he used electromagnetic waves to locate the forty killers in the room, then put the M4A1 on his shoulder and fired at the wall.
After the fifteen rounds of bullets were poured out, he stopped pulling the trigger, not because he forgot to swing his arm, but because he found that the forty people in the hall were all well-equipped and had reached the level of black technology.
For example, their bulletproof helmets perfectly withstand the penetrating power of rifle bullets. After being hit, they are knocked down by the impact. If they get up and shake their heads, they will be fine.
clatter! clatter! clatter! clatter----
There was a loud burst of gunfire, and a hail of bullets covered Russell's position. The metal storm blocked the stairs, and occasionally a few grenades slid against the ground, blowing up the surrounding area into a mess.
"I take back what I said before, there is indeed a new trick, and it's very powerful!"
Russell Cat was in the corner. After sighing, he put away the M4A1, took out the one-meter-long M249 machine gun from his pants pocket, and loaded the 100-round magazine.
After thinking about it, he took out another M249 machine gun, holding one in each hand, and took big steps... without walking out.
I always feel like something is missing!
Russell thought for a while, put on his sunglasses, then lit a cigarette, held it at a 45-degree angle to his mouth, and finally found some feeling.
He stepped out, raised his foot to step on a rolling grenade, and pulled the trigger with both hands to release the ammunition.
boom! !
After a loud noise, Russell stepped out of the raging vortex of flames. Two M249 machine guns fired continuously, suppressing the forty rifles on the opposite side with a crazy rate of fire of 500 rounds per minute.
clatter! clatter! clatter! clatter----
These bulletproof helmets are really not fake. Even after being hit by a machine gun bullet, their protection was not broken, and the impact did not break the necks of the killers.
Russell hit the same position with three consecutive bullets before breaking his bulletproof helmet and harvesting the head with difficulty.
"Please support..."
Bang!
"He is weird..."
Bang!
"F beep..."
Bang!
The magazine was empty. Russell moved slowly in the hail of bullets. The opponent was very desperate. He also cooperated very well by hiding behind a pillar to change the magazine to prevent his invulnerability from being exposed and frightening the killers on the opposite side.
Ding-ding-ding-ding!
Eight shock bombs rolled out and were distributed around Russell's feet. They exploded with bright light, the noise spread, and then smoke filled the hall, causing white smoke to billow in the hall.
Russell was stunned for a moment, then whispered.
"Oh, I can't see it!"
He was very curious about the special tactical equipment on these forty killers, and temporarily defined them as high-end goods in the world of killers. After walking out with guns, he once again formed fire suppression.
The forty killers suffered heavy losses, and before they could figure out what happened, only seven were left.
Two of them were very convinced that the rifle bullets had hit Russell, covering at least ten rounds of bullets. Looking at Russell's clothes, he didn't look like he was wearing reinforced armor. Why didn't he react?
If that suit of clothing is a state-of-the-art body armor that perfectly resists impact and protects internal organs from damage, what about shock bombs?
I don’t see any helmets!
clatter! clatter! clatter! clatter----
The seven killers were mourning, and the gunfire stopped abruptly.
The remaining three people did not dare to show their heads. When they heard the footsteps approaching, they suddenly rolled out.
There were a few more bangs, bangs, bangs, and the last killer rolled over the wall, howling like a collapse while pulling the trigger on Russell.
The bullets hit Russell and his body jumped with joy. Two of them hit his face and bounced into the air.
Click! Click! Click————
The magazine was empty, but the killer was still pulling the trigger, huddled in the corner looking extremely helpless.
"Go away, monster! Please...go away!!"
Russell shrugged, and amid the killer's whimpers, he stuffed the two M249 machine guns into his pants pockets, then took out the M4A1 to replace the magazine.
"Don't move. I'll hit you on the head if you move. Don't be afraid. I'm just trying on your body armor."
Russell pulled the bolt of the gun and raised the corners of his mouth, revealing a sunny and righteous smile.
"Oooh, don't come over here!"
The killer threw the gun at Russell, then pulled out his pistol and fired. The magazine was empty, and he cried even harder.
