15. Unable to Break Through

The copper-spotted snake assault rifle, capable of firing 640 rounds per minute, was handled with deadly precision in Karl’s hands. Every bullet that spat from its muzzle found its intended target.

A shot to the head, a shot to the heart—each of the seven members of the Whirlpool Gang was hit twice. Within two seconds, none of them could stand again before Karl and his two companions.

“Mano, your marksmanship is incredible!” Jack exclaimed, completely ignoring the gunshot wound that was still bleeding, even attempting to stand to finish off any surviving gang members.

“Jack, you better rest first,” Oliver stopped him, checking the wounds carefully. Finding that neither of the bullets had hit a vital spot, he finally exhaled in relief. “Someone like you, Jack, probably has more lives than anyone else.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Jack smiled. “Besides, since you’ve been bragging about Karl’s shooting all along, I have to trust you guys.”

“Nonsense.” Karl could only say that it was the first time he’d seen someone laugh after being shot twice. “If their aim had been any better, you wouldn’t be around to joke, Jack.”

“Don’t worry, KK. I was ready—I covered my head the moment I fell, and I was wearing a bulletproof vest. If I wasn’t confident, I wouldn’t risk my life like this.”

“I think once this job’s done, even if we have to pool our money, we need to get you a new subdermal armor,” Oliver said helplessly, feeling a bit ashamed he hadn’t been able to help before. “I should also get some cybernetic enhancements myself. I have to be useful; otherwise, it feels wrong sharing the profits while just watching you guys do the work.”

“Your shooting’s not bad, Oliver. Maybe you could try a sniper rifle with some cybernetic assistance and provide support from afar.”

“But my aim’s nowhere near as good as yours, KK.”

“That’s exactly why you should use a sniper rifle.”

Karl shook the copper-spotted snake rifle in his hands. “I’m more suited to something like this—quick and decisive.”

“I think Oliver could also try being our medic,” Jack suggested.

Jack looked down at his own wounds as Oliver tended to them with an uncommon skill.

“Well, my sister’s a cybernetic doctor, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Oliver said modestly. His gaze then swept the surroundings and caught sight of surveillance cameras. “We need to move quickly. This place is full of cameras. Once the other Whirlpool Gang members in the factory realize what’s happened, they’ll surround us.”

“Let’s change locations, deal with a few more groups, and once we have enough people, we’ll leave a survivor to find out where the goods are.”

Karl walked over to the bodies of the gang members and picked up a few grenades. “I should learn hacking or find a hacker for us. If we had one on this mission, we wouldn’t even need survivors. We could just disable the cameras and storm straight to the employer’s crate, toss a grenade, and get proof. Easy and simple.”

“So this is just an excuse to be reckless,” Oliver said.

Among the three, Oliver felt he was probably the only semi-sane one. Supporting the injured Jack, he raised his pistol and shattered the cameras aiming at them.

No matter what, these two were his comrades now, so he’d follow along.

When the gang’s boss arrived at the spot seen on the monitors, all that remained were the seven bodies of their men—nothing else.

“Pathetic. Can’t even hold out a few minutes?” The boss wanted to shoot each of the fallen members one more time.

“Boss, there’s blood here,” a sharp-eyed gang member beside her pointed out a bloodstain on the ground not far from the corpses.

“This way!” Seeing the trail of blood every few steps, the gang members raised their guns and looked to their leader for instructions.

“Looks like they managed to do some damage after all.”

Filled with hatred, the boss didn’t hesitate and led her people along the blood trail.

A few seconds later, rounding a corner in a factory corridor—

“Boom!”

The leading gang members were engulfed in flames from a grenade explosion. Those a bit farther away were blasted by the shockwave, limbs missing, and fell before the boss who was walking in the middle.

“Shit, it’s a trap!”

“We walked right into it!”

Hearing the explosion from behind, Karl immediately turned, gripping his Lexington pistol—far more useful in this narrow corridor—and cautiously moved backward.

Jack’s wounds had been bandaged by Oliver moments ago, so he wasn’t bleeding continuously. The blood dripping along their path came from a cloth Karl had torn from one of the gang members while scavenging grenades, soaked in blood and dripping every few steps.

The trap had been set by Oliver, who, having roots in the Sixth Street Gang, had some battlefield knowledge about makeshift grenade traps.

“Oliver, guard Jack. I’ll check what’s behind.”

Unaware of how many gang members still lurked in the factory, Karl had initially planned only to stall. But upon turning the corner, he found hardly anyone left.

The boss was just a minor leader within the Whirlpool Gang with about twenty subordinates. Some had gone off causing trouble and robbing; seven had been taken out in the previous firefight with Karl; a few more had been maimed or killed by the grenade trap while moving through the corridors. Now, including the boss herself, only four remained.

Karl’s gun was quick. Before he even realized he should leave a survivor, he had already taken down three. The last one wasn’t spared because Karl missed her head; rather, the bullet struck her skull with a metallic clang—deflected by some kind of metal reinforcement.

“Damn it, just like that guy yesterday with the metal cybernetic eye in front and an iron skull at the back.”

Karl realized this woman would be difficult to capture alive. His fingers flicked, firing another shot aimed at the joint between the two metal plates on her head, but again, the bullet rang off.

The second clang brought the gang member back to full awareness. Her eyes glowed red as she stared at Karl, and in that moment, a phrase Jack had once said flashed through Karl’s mind:

The Lexington—this gun can’t even penetrate the weakest subdermal armor at close range.