Marvel: Killing Makes You Stronger

Chapter 6: Hermano Del Gunmen

The sound of two deaths clearly alarmed the gunmen of Hermano Del Gunmen in the living room on the first floor. Already on high alert, they immediately drew their weapons toward the direction of the fallen bodies.

"Someone has broken into the apartment, seal off the building, all hands on deck."

"Control room, issue the alert status."

"The intruder is at the staircase on the first floor, might be heading upstairs, everyone be alert."

Loud shouts filled the air, and through the communicator, messages were sent to the control room, which promptly pressed the alarm bell, putting everyone in the apartment on high alert.

A dozen gunmen on the first floor gathered, aiming at the corner near the staircase, slowly advancing forward.

It seemed unlikely that anyone could escape the gunfire of so many gunmen.

However, what they did not know was that the enemy they were facing at this moment was no ordinary person.

Just as they neared the staircase corner, a sudden burst of tiny pebbles shot out like bullets. Caught off guard, the gunmen had no chance to react and were instantly pierced through, blood mist floating in the air accompanied by piercing screams.

A figure then emerged, dressed in a black hoodie, cap, and mask, making it hard to see his face. He walked up to the screaming, still-living gunmen on the ground, bent down to pick up two guns, and coldly pulled the trigger at their foreheads.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

After several gunshots, the figure turned without hesitation and walked in a certain direction on the first floor.

There was a long corridor, and at the end of it was a door, clearly a back door, with a few rooms on either side. Passing one room, he raised his gun and fired at the door.

Bang!

The bullet pierced through the door and the brain of a gunman hiding behind it.

After dealing with him, he turned back to his original position, expertly checking the dual guns in his hands as he walked up the stairs. Approaching the second floor, his eyes under the brim of his cap flickered briefly, looking at the corridor on the second floor without hesitation, his legs suddenly bursting with power.

He exploded forward like a cheetah, reaching the second floor while his body spun in mid-air. Twenty or so gunmen ambushed on the walls had no time to react as he spread his arms and pulled the triggers.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gunfire continued, bullets accurately hitting these gunmen in vital spots: foreheads, temples, eyes.

In less than two seconds, the twenty or so ambushed gunmen were instantaneously dead.

With his ammunition depleted, he turned without hesitation and continued towards the third floor, reloading the dual guns smoothly as he ran. Arriving at the third floor, he had already reloaded.

The killing began. He was like a reaper, harvesting lives one after another with gunfire, moving upward through the levels. The gunmen from Hermano Del Gunmen had no chance of escape unless they jumped out of the building.

However, those whose morale had not yet collapsed would hardly choose to run.

What awaited them were cold, ruthless bullets.

Numbers meant nothing to this mysterious enemy. His actions were too fast, too quick for ordinary people to react, and his shooting was terrifyingly accurate. Before they could react, the bullets had already hit their foreheads.

The process lasted less than ten minutes.

All the gunmen inside the apartment were killed, except for a few female prostitutes—all dead.

Including the leader himself, Hermano Del, who also died in his office.

Perhaps even Hermano Del had not anticipated that today would be the day of their downfall.

The last image given to him was of that man in a black hoodie, black sweatpants, black gloves, and a mask, precisely shooting or easily breaking the necks of the few core gunmen left in the office.

Standing at the doorway, he held the pistol that symbolized death, aimed it at himself, and as the bright gunfire erupted, he too embraced death.

In front of Hermano Del's office, with a cold glance at the lying body of Hermano Del, the corner of his masked mouth curled.

Another bountiful day.

He did not loot the advanced technology but headed to the third-floor control room, quickly killing all the gunmen in a blitzkrieg assault. In the control room, which was using a VCR storage system, typical of gangs who could not utilize more advanced technology reserved for certain governmental agencies, he found the tapes, pulled them out, shut down the system, and then swiftly left.

Bi Xiao knew that his massacre in the Queens area would draw significant attention. Although the heavy rain provided some cover, the continuous gunfire could still potentially attract notice.

He left decisively, the rain washing away any traces and scents that belonged to him.

Ten minutes after Bi Xiao's departure, several police cars arrived at the apartment's doorstep.

Thunder boomed louder in the skies, lightning streaking across the night, adding a surreal touch to the day.

A joint investigation team, including police chiefs and forensic experts, methodically began their work, setting up the crime scene tape and conducting a thorough examination.

From one of the black Chevrolet SUVs, four individuals emerged, led by FBI Agent Coulson.

These FBI agents were patient, waiting for the scene to be surveyed without imposing their authority.

After the first, second, and third floors were thoroughly inspected, Agent Coulson and his team, guided by Chief George, entered the scene. Each person donned shoe covers, gloves, and caps, ensuring they did not leave any additional footprints or hair at the site.

"This is really eerie; I've never seen anything like this," Chief George said, frowning deeply as he followed alongside Agent Coulson.

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