Chapter 8 Sweeping the factory

"Hey, it's you guys!."

Outside the garage door, two gunmen with rifles looked warily at the van that had stopped at the door.

"Bang! Bang!"

The silenced shots were a bit muffled. The two gunmen were shot in the head and fell to the ground without a word. Alejandro held the pistol in both hands, tilted it slightly, and shot three more gunmen in the guard box. He put the pistol back in the holster and pulled an M40A3 sniper rifle from the back seat. This was a military version of the Remington 700 shotgun, modified with a weighted stainless steel barrel.

He planned to climb up to the roof of the garage, snipe at the gunmen in the blind spot, and monitor the area to spot the Reyes group's reinforcements as soon as possible.

Broly walked to the door of the garage, rifle in hand.

Inside a car repair shop, a group of women are making drugs. Their working environment is extremely harsh. The Reyes Group did not buy any protective equipment for them. The hot air, toxic acid fumes, suffocating smoke, and flickering high-pressure sodium lights all damaged their health.

Because these women had inhaled too many toxic chemicals, their skin was horribly rough and covered with spots, their limbs were thin, their bodies were atrophied, and their demeanor was a bit demented, as if they were walking zombies.

They are prisoners of this factory, trafficked by Reyes from all over the world, and work in the factory day and night. The oldest among them has not been exposed to the sun for three years, and the oldest is not dead, but has been "purged" by the management because of illness.

There are several gunmen who supervise their work to prevent them from secretly sucking the finished product. Almost all of them are drug addicts, having worked in drug factories for a long time.

The rest of the gunmen were in the three offices of the garage. Most of them wore flowery shirts, and some were shirtless, showing tattoos on their arms. The air conditioning in the office was on full blast. The gunmen drank ice-cold whiskey and smoked cigars while playing cards. Rolls of U.S. dollars were placed on the card table.

"Boom!"

An unprecedented force tore the iron door of the office right out of the frame. The heavy iron door flew into a gunman, pinning him to the wall.

Broly walked in. When the gunmen saw someone suddenly breaking in, they were frightened and a little panicked.

One of the gunmen tried to pick up a gun on the card table and shoot, but he was hit in the chest before he could pull the trigger. There was a cracking sound of broken ribs, a large chunk of his chest was dented, and his internal organs were beaten to pulp.

He moved forward, striking one after another, killing more than ten gunmen in two seconds.

Some of the gunmen who reacted quickly finally pulled out their pistols and rifles and started shooting. Broly picked up his rifle and started firing at them.

There was a burst of gunfire like exploding beans in the office. The whistling bullets made holes in the tables and chairs one by one. The pierced whiskey flowed freely, and pieces of playing cards and dollar bills flew into the air.

Not long after, the gunfire suddenly stopped.

Accompanied by the sound of several bottles being smashed and glass rubbing against the floor tiles, Broly walked out of the office carrying a bottle of whiskey and drinking. There were four or five bullet holes in his clothes, and there was only a blood stain on his skin. The bullets barely penetrated the skin.

He had tested it before. When ordinary bullets were fired from rifles and pistols, as long as they missed the vital point, they would only cause pain, not damage. As for light weapons, only sniper rifles and machine guns with higher energy could threaten him.

Still, he tried to avoid being hit by the bullets, because it really hurt. The pain made him angry, and his fighting strength began to rise.

"Quién estáahí?Quién es el enemigo?"

The shots in the office alerted the gunmen in the other offices. They asked in Broly's direction as if they were facing an enemy.

"Boom!"

A gunman quietly pulling the handle of a grenade was suddenly struck in the head by a bullet fired from the attic. The grenade rolled to the floor. The remaining gunmen rushed out of the office. After only a few steps, they were killed by Broly. Shot to the ground.

He was like a hunter shooting rabbits during the hunting season, shooting these gunmen who were running wild. Occasionally, he would swing his rifle like a baseball, hitting the gunmen who tried to charge forward for a physical fight.

"Boring."

Broly put down his rifle, a little bored. As the legendary Super Saiyan, new energy is constantly flowing from deep within his body, making him even more powerful.

In the face of such a weapon, he could not

 longer take pleasure in fighting.

[Ding, congratulate the host for reaching level five and earning one skill point]

[Ding, kill a hundred people. The successful Saiyans will definitely have blood on their hands. The host has killed over one hundred people in total. Twenty resurrection points are awarded. Congratulations to the host for obtaining the skill Oolong Transformation].

? ? ?

Broly had a question mark on his face. This transformation technique with only five minutes of transformation time is really embarrassing. He might as well add some points and switch to Puer's transformation technique. At least there was no time limit.

Alejandro slid down from the roof through a sling with a sniper rifle on his back. He opened the office door with his fingers, glanced at the scene inside, and then at the broken bodies on the floor.

"This scene is a bit too big and I can't handle it alone."

The corners of his mouth twitched, and several people's bodies were punched through with fists, their flesh and internal organs splattered all over the floor. After hesitating for a moment, he pulled an old cell phone from his pocket and made a call.

"I'm Alejandro. There's a big party for eighty people. We need you to clean up the place." He sent the satellite coordinates.

Alejandro explained to Broly.

"This is a group of people who specialize in cleaning up the scene for the killer. They are very professional and have strict mouths."

"What do you do with these women?" Broly said, "I only kill warriors, not ordinary people."

"We wore hoods and they didn't see anything, but if we just let them go, they would definitely die. It would be better to turn them over to the Mexican police afterwards.

Alejandro said after a moment of hesitation. With his gun in hand, he drove the frightened women into the garage kitchen and locked the door.

They didn't wait long, and there was the sound of propellers in the sky. A medium-sized transport plane landed on the dirt road in front of the garage. A dozen people, still wearing jackets on a hot day, got off the plane. They also carry large and small bags of professional tools.

"Alex, you haven't checked in for a long time."

An old man with gray hair, but wearing a very stylish leather jacket, took off his hat and motioned to Alejandro.

"When I worked for the CIA, I was not required to do cleaning at my own expense."

Alejandro said with some heartbreak.

"The CIA doesn't do this job as cleanly as we do, Alex."

The old man said, snapping his fingers to signal his men to get to work. Faced with a scene that was obviously not caused by ordinary people, their expressions did not change at all.

"To be honest, if I were a canner, I would have made a fortune by now."

He looked at the bodies on the ground and whistled.

Meat, viscera, and bone fragments scattered across the floor were swept into body bags. Bullets embedded in the wall were picked out with tweezers, and shell casings were swept into a pile. Fingerprints and blood stains were wiped away with professional cleaning spray.

Not long after, rolls of bodies bound with duct tape were loaded onto the plane.

Alejandro painfully pulled two rolls of gold coins from his pocket and handed them to the old man.

"You can come back to me next time."

The old man flicked his cigarette, accepted the gold coins, and gracefully boarded the plane.