The gray-haired young man felt that he was still too conservative.
These people didn't want to take the blame for him, they just wanted to dig a grave for him. From this point of view, the purpose of Poland Yuki to let Kawakami stay in the safe house is intriguing.
But judging from the previous micro-expressions, that guy probably didn't want to trick him, and the probability of being taken advantage of was greater...
But that doesn't change the fact that someone wants to dig his grave.
"Tsk, this is not authentic..." Tsumugi Kawakami murmured after eating a lemon candy.
He was hanging from the ceiling.
Kawakami cut off the wire. Under the gloomy sky, the gray-haired young man's windbreaker was almost the same color as the dirty ceiling.
But this is still a risky move.
If anyone looked up inadvertently, or if the muzzle of the gun was raised a few centimeters when firing bullets with passion, the gray-haired young man might be beaten into a sieve. But according to his inference, the people who came should not have the quality to consider this.
Country A is more free than Japan, but cats and dogs all have the opportunity to get their hands on guns. If he were a peripheral member of the organization, he probably wouldn't ignore him... At the critical moment, Kawakami's mind started to wander.
Just like now, the local gangsters who had destroyed the house filed in, and then started searching every room like a mad dog.
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After finding nothing, they gathered in the living room again, cursing.
Five, six, seven...eight, there are eight people.
Two of them came in from outside the door later, indicating that there should be someone guarding the door.
Based on visual inspection alone, the thinnest among them is taller than the gray-haired young man, which makes Kawakami, who is relatively tall in Japan, slightly depressed.
"Damn, he ran away, maybe he went out with Mr. Bai." Someone shouted loudly, mixed with slang that took Kawakami half a second to understand, "Where are the people on the other side of the window? Are they coming back?" Did you drink milk at home?!”
A group of people laughed, mixed with a few curses, and some people even sat down on the sofa, so they discovered that the hardness was wrong:
"Hey, there's weapons in here! Damn it, under the sofa mezzanine!"
"Where is it? Let me see!"
"Under the sofa, I said under the sofa!"
"Don't grab it, you bastard——"
…………
The buried easter egg was finally discovered, and Kawakami became a little more serious. He hooked his legs around the chandelier to fix himself, and took out a sharp blade from his cuffs.
At the same time, the gray-haired young man concentrated on observing the intruder's every move.
After confirming that there was no ambush, the group of people unscrupulously took the weapons hidden in the Polish snow tree, and inadvertently touched a glass wire as thin as a hair——
"boom--!!!!"
The power of the bomb is not small, and the gray-haired young man on the ceiling will also be affected.
Therefore, a few seconds before the bomb was triggered, Kawakami dexterously jumped down from the ceiling and pressed on one of the intruders as a buffer. The weight and the miscellaneous equipment on his body quickly brought the intruder to the ground.
Kawakami just flipped forward to release the momentum, and pulled Lucky, who was overwhelmed by his own mountain, to hide behind the refrigerator.
Just the right time.
The air wave generated by the bomb arrived as expected. Kawakami bent down and felt a violent shock in his internal organs.
He saw some colored paste splashing onto the opposite wall, and then slowly trickling down. His sense of smell was one step slower than his vision, and it took about a second before he could smell the smoke, blood, and burnt protein.
Tsk, the bombs from Polish Snow Tree are quite powerful.
Kawakami didn't hesitate, and rushed out the door despite the side effects of weak legs, dizziness, and tinnitus. He also didn't forget to drag the intruder who was pulled into the refrigerator as a shield.
"Bang bang bang bang-!!!"
The man guarding the door raised his gun and started shooting. Kawakami's hand holding the "shield" felt numb. He did not choose to go downstairs, but rushed to the end of the corridor.
Kawakami had observed that in addition to the rear, the house at the end of the corridor had an extra window on the side, facing the road. There are many old motorcycles parked near the road. If you want to escape from an encirclement, this is the best tool.
After a pause of less than two seconds, the gray-haired young man used the blade in his hand to unlock the door and ducked in.
Naturally, there are aborigines in this house, but the people who still live in houses in this kind of slum are either gangsters, or have close connections with gangsters.
In a word, they are all enemies.
Kawakami heard the sound and identified the position, and fired two shots before looking back.
He saw a fat black woman and a little boy about seven or eight years old lying on the ground. The boy was still holding a table knife in his hand.
After confirming his death, Tsumugi Kawakami walked around them and walked into the living room without looking at him a second time.
Then he looked around the living room and saw powder and syringes on the dirty table. There was a metallic smell in the air.
There was a rustling sound in the bedroom. There should be someone else in this room, but he obviously didn't dare to come out. Judging from the clothes in the living room, it was probably a girl.
"I'm sorry." Kawakami said perfunctorily.
Then he opened the window, and the gray-haired young man jumped out, dragging his bleeding "shield." He only fell in the air for a few seconds, and the sudden glimpse before was enough for Kawakami to confirm the enemy's location.
After landing, he used the "shield" to roll to remove the momentum, and Kawakami fired three shots in succession to resolve the obstacles on the road. Under a hail of bullets, he managed to grab a motorcycle.
The motorcycle probably belonged to the person who had besieged him before. Steam was coming from the exhaust pipe, and the key was even inserted on it.
Kawakami Tsumugi stepped on the accelerator to the maximum and drove away.
…………
From a certain perspective, the slums can be described as "full of factions." The gang that besieged Kawakami Tsumugi only had a few streets within its sphere of influence. After the gray-haired young man left, they stopped pursuing him.
There are also gaps between different gangs that they don't belong to, and these gaps are often the roads that divide neighborhoods.
Kawakami Tsuna could feel the condescending and vague gaze from the dilapidated buildings on both sides.
He was very sensible and did not go deep into the territory of other gangsters. He continued to drive forward on his motorcycle along the long-standing asphalt road in a leisurely manner.
Driving to the corner, Kawakami stopped by the trash can. This location was a blind spot and not easy to be sniped.
The gray-haired young man stuffed a lemon candy into his mouth to wash away the lingering smell of sweat and blood.
He glanced at the "shield" leaning against the wall and carried by him all the way. This poor man was in tatters and was in disgrace:
The initial explosion caused him to lose his left calf. After being pressed down as a cushion, his chest collapsed like a crushed sleeping bag, and blood was pouring out from the bullet holes everywhere on his body.
Surprisingly, he was still alive, with a faint white breath coming from his bleeding mouth and nose.
In order to facilitate movement, Kawakamiji initially focused on the thinnest among those people. Relatively speaking, he was also the youngest. A young boy who looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old. Considering that European and American people always look... He is more mature and his actual age is estimated to be younger.
So the only bad thing about country A is that all cats and dogs can get their hands on guns; unlike Japan, those who are qualified to die in his hands have at least been screened.
Kawakamiji thought expressionlessly, and his mood suddenly worsened.
Not wanting to waste another bullet, Kawakami twisted the boy's neck with his hands. Then he took out his cell phone and started dialing the Polish Xueshu communication.
Poland Snow Tree, or the person on the other side of the phone, didn't answer immediately.
So Kawakami raised his head first and focused on the people surrounding him.
