Chapter 52: My Style is Above Yours (3rd Update, Seeking Monthly Pass)

In any era, the killing power of firearms is terrifying, and a group of unarmed infected trying to rush through a hail of bullets is clearly doomed.

They didn't even see the machine guns, as they died on their way to the mansion, picked off by the precision marksmanship of sniper rifles.

The lawn area is too large!

In a sense, what killed them was financial capability.

Outside the main house, the butler had people stack sandbags and mount two machine guns, creating a maximized crossfire network.

Two maids, each manning a machine gun, their robust figures seemingly unaffected by the weapons' recoil.

Unfortunately, they couldn't open fire.

The heads were all taken by the sniper maid on the roof.

Wayne sat behind the sandbags, under a parasol, reclining in a deck chair, with sunglasses and tea, while the monocle-wearing butler stood at attention beside him.