The chase unfolded within the building, with one party pursuing and the other fleeing, drawing circles around each other. After running for a while, the blond man got wise. He only sent a few people to follow Owen, while the rest spread out to encircle him.
Owen nearly got caught several times. While running through a corridor, he suddenly heard a door opening ahead, indicating someone had gotten in front of him. Owen leaped forward with a flying knee, knocking out the robber who had just turned the corner, rendering him unconscious.
Without stopping, Owen continued towards the corridor door. The second robber, who was just opening the door, was taken down by Owen's sliding tackle. Owen then slammed the door shut, knocking the second robber unconscious as well.
As footsteps approached from behind, Owen once again initiated escape mode, disappearing into the stairwell in the blink of an eye. In the stairwell, robbers hurrying upstairs were once again knocked down by Owen, who had jumped down from above. By the time they got up, Owen had already moved down to the next floor.
The chase resumed.
However, smooth as Owen's actions were, escaping was not a performance; there were no do-overs. After bursting through a door into a room, Owen was shocked to find it had no back exit. As he considered turning back, he was greeted by a barrage of bullets.
"Damn, finally caught you."
The robbers, gasping for breath, stood outside the door, exhausted from the chase. They had struggled to catch him despite their numbers. Having finally cornered him, they took a moment to catch their breath outside, in no rush to enter.
Inside, Owen was filled with regret. With no skylight or back door and only a large window as a potential exit, the room was practically a dead end. With the robbers blocking the outside, Owen resorted to barricading the door with the few pieces of furniture available, hoping to delay them.
Bang, bang, bang.
The assailants outside started to ram the door, but with all the furniture Owen had used to block it, they couldn't break through immediately.
The silence that followed the banging made Owen wonder about their next move when suddenly gunfire erupted. Bullets pierced through the wooden walls, with Owen barely managing to drop to the floor before being overwhelmed by the flying debris.
With all the furniture used to block the door, there was nothing left to use as cover. Perhaps favored by some stroke of luck, Owen was unharmed when the gunfire ceased.
The room was wrecked, walls pocked with bullet holes, and the large window shattered. Owen could see the shadows of people moving outside through the holes in the wooden wall.
"Clang, clang."
Something rolled in through the holes, and by the sound, Owen knew what it was. This was the third time today he was facing an explosion.
"Shit…" Owen turned and jumped out the window.
Boom!
A violent explosion followed, sending a shockwave that hurled dust, debris, and glass shards out of the window. Owen, grimy and disheveled, clung to the window sill, dangling outside, narrowly escaping the blast.
Coughing from the dust, Owen's ears buzzed from the shockwave. The explosion had blown a large hole in the wooden wall, and several robbers stood by the now-vanished window, looking down at Owen's hands clinging to the window sill.
Dangling outside the building, with the glass facade below also shattered by the blast, Owen's feet hung in the air, powerless.
A pair of military boots entered Owen's view, belonging to the blond man, who looked down at him with a vengeful glare.
"It was you, you bastard, who threw my brother from the building, wasn't it?"
The blond man's voice was calm, but his foot pressed down hard on Owen's hands. Owen endured the pain without letting go. The blond man, unsatisfied with just a few stomps, began grinding his foot down.
The pain in Owen's fingers was excruciating, but he gritted his teeth and remained silent.
While the blond man vented his anger, intending to pull Owen up for a slow torture, his walkie-talkie suddenly crackled: "Alex, what are you doing? Hurry up and meet me on the 18th floor; we're leaving."
It seemed Hans had been rescued, as expected. The vault door had been compromised, locked from the inside but easily opened from the outside.
The blond man, wanting to avenge his brother, reluctantly abandoned his plan upon hearing Hans's urging. He responded, "Alright, I'm on my way."
"Throw him down from here."
That was the blond man's final order for Owen. As his men approached to carry out the command, a sniper's shot rang out, taking down one robber.
Seizing the moment, Owen grabbed the blond man's ankle, pulling him halfway out the window, but the man managed to hold on.
Below, Owen used the opportunity to climb up the blond man's body like a ladder, swiftly re-entering the building before the others could react.
The blond man struggled to save himself as another robber fell to a sniper's shot. The remaining assailant turned to confront Owen, who gave him no chance, kicking him down as well. As for the blond man, dangling in mid-air, he managed to climb up in the chaos.
18th Floor
Hans, realizing he couldn't contact his men guarding the hostages, knew something was amiss and that the police must have intervened.
But it didn't matter; his bearer bonds were secured. All he needed was to leave this place of trouble to live as a wealthy man. As for those two "rats," they were of no concern.
With Alex delayed, time pressing, Hans decided not to wait any longer. Every second increased their risk. He stood up, signaling his men, "We're leaving without waiting."
The remaining robbers followed Hans, carrying bags filled with bonds, towards the elevator. Behind them, the vault was rigged with explosives.
A young black man with glasses excitedly carried his two travel bags, filled with money, oblivious to the incorrect weight of one of the bags.