Chapter 24 : Death

Suddenly, Paul let go of his grip on the handlebars of the motorcycle, raised his pistol, and swung his arms and wrists violently.

Boom! Boom!

Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously.

The muzzle released a lot of gunpowder smoke in slow motion, and the bullets sprayed out from the barrel, creating white sound lines.

With the high-speed rotation of the bullets, their original straight trajectories gradually deviated. They drew an exaggerated arc in mid-air, bypassed the car body, and entered the throat of a strong man, then exited from behind his neck.

With undiminished momentum, the bullet penetrated the heart of another strong man.

"Puff puff puff..."

With the sound of bullets entering flesh, four strong men fell to the ground simultaneously.

The gangsters were stunned, looking at the corpses in astonishment, as if they had seen a ghost.

"Where did the bullet come from?"

They hid behind the bunker, and logically, it was impossible for the bullet to hit their position.

And there were only two shots, so why did four die?

Too many doubts lingered in the minds of the gangsters, but Paul didn't give them time to think. The pistol fired more intensively in an instant, taking their lives.

"Fire!!"

Such an unreasonable scene made the gangsters panic.

They roared and held their automatic rifles with trembling hands, starting to shoot at Paul.

Paul had no intention of stopping, and the motorcycle nimbly shuttled between the hail of bullets!

With the help of bullet time, the bullets always passed by the motorcycle at a distance of a few millimeters, and the bullets that couldn't be dodged were intercepted by Paul in mid-air.

In the eyes of the gangsters, it seemed the bullets were deliberately avoiding the motorcycle. Despite the many automatic rifles firing simultaneously, none of the bullets successfully hit the target.

Immediately, the gunshots became more frantic!

Da da da da da da!

Amid the fierce gunfire, there were occasional crisp and exciting bullet collision sounds.

Paul's operation was extremely subtle. The moment the last bullet escaped from the barrel, the magazine slid out, and a new magazine connected almost seamlessly. The gunshots sounded fluid and continuous.

The surge of adrenaline had greatly strengthened Paul's physical fitness, making the pistol's recoil almost zero, ensuring that continuous shooting did not affect the precision of each bullet.

Frank, in the back seat, stared wide-eyed at what happened in front of him. He saw Paul's movements more clearly from the back seat than the gangsters did.

Crisp and neat, yet casual.

It seemed that every shot was the result of precise calculations, full of confidence and unthinkable marksmanship. Paul suppressed more than a dozen automatic rifles with a single pistol, leaving Frank, who was in the Marine Corps, stunned.

Who can tell him if such a thing as bullet turning is really scientific?

What is the principle?

…

"Monster, this is a monster..."

Seeing their companions fall one after another and the motorcycle getting closer, the remaining gangsters were completely terrified.

No matter how they shot, the motorcycle remained unscathed, and the bullets missed every time.

While they hid behind the bunker, those damned bullets could always find their exact location and take their lives one by one.

Every time a companion fell, it left a deep haze in their hearts. This feeling was like a knife on their necks, with the constant threat of death crushing their willpower.

The gangsters had long forgotten about the capture order.

They squeezed the trigger tightly and shot ferociously at Paul, just hoping that one bullet could hit this terrifying monster.

At this moment, the motorcycle was less than 20 meters away from the intersection.

The originally scattered bullets gradually became denser, almost covering the road ahead of the motorcycle.

Paul didn't panic. He casually raised his hand and shot to the right.

"Boom!"

Suddenly, a billboard of a street shop fell to the ground, making a loud noise. It fell on the trash can on the side of the street, forming a slope.

The motorcycle roared and rushed to the street. The tires gripped the billboard tightly, and with a strong inertial force, it suddenly flew into the air, soaring over the heads of all the gangsters.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Paul swung his arm in mid-air and continuously pulled the trigger.

Several bullets exited the chamber, hitting the gangsters' bodies in a strange C shape from high to low. Before the motorcycle landed, all the bullets in the magazine had been fired.

"Boom!"

The motorcycle landed on the ground with a low growl, and the gangsters behind were shot and fell to the ground simultaneously.

With no convoy obstruction, the motorcycle continued to speed away, soon disappearing from sight.

This seemingly long shootout actually took only a dozen seconds.

Four jeeps arrived late, and the remaining gangsters got out.

There was a dead silence.

The strong smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air. The gangsters looked at the massacred corpses, cold sweat rolling down their faces, some even trembling uncontrollably.

Everyone's heart felt cold.

So many armed forces intercepted them, but they were wiped out by just two people!

Is he still human?