Absolute Overwhelming Dominance

Although the height difference was only about forty-five meters, the sight of fifty-six empty iron boxes, each weighing more than three hundred forty pounds, crashing down in a hailstorm of clanging, avalanche-like violence was terrifying enough to send the armed contestants scattering in all directions.

With a thunderous, metallic din, the boxes struck the ground and kept rolling, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Only after the contestants had fled a good distance away, and the noise had finally subsided, did they dare turn back and resume firing. By then, however, Hou Rui’s police revolver had already spoken first.

Amid a burst of gunfire, Hou Rui dropped the man with the Type 74 submachine gun first. Of the three shots he fired, one shattered the other man’s visor and robbed him of sight, one struck the vulnerable neck, and the last, mercilessly, slammed into the groin. The poor fellow instantly convulsed like a human shrimp, clutching himself and howling on the ground.

Hou Rui’s second target was a man gripping a Beretta nine-millimeter pistol with both hands.

While evading the falling iron boxes, this crafty fellow had somehow tucked himself beneath the metal walkway, using the narrow gaps between the boxes to hide in a dead angle. He was still congratulating himself when Hou Rui, holding the railing with one hand, had already leaned his entire body out over the steel catwalk and taken aim from above.

In the blink of an eye, the last three white-ink rounds in the police revolver struck the top of the man’s head in quick succession. The shots landed like three consecutive hammer blows, knocking him senseless on the spot.

“Damn, I’ve never seen that move before. That guy’s amazing!”

“Those three shots to the crown of the head deserve a place in the year’s best-shots list.”

“I’m backing you, man. Wipe them out.”

“Wipe out what? There are still three of them left. Tyrant and Fast Hammer are both solid.”

“Shut up already. Are you watching or not?”

At the same time, outside the warehouse simulation area, the crowd watching on the big screen had already begun to stir. A setup like this, a six-on-two situation, had happened before in Shooting Hall Six. But those who fell for it, after losing a teammate, were usually beaten to death in brutal fashion, so the spectacle had generally lost its appeal.

Today, however, was very different. After losing his partner, Jin Shanshan, Hou Rui had not wilted and given up; instead, he had launched a fierce counterattack. The audience grew excited, buzzing with anticipation as they waited to see what more dazzling display he might produce.

By then, Hou Rui was sprinting swiftly along the metal walkway, while the other man with a Five also ran on the ground below, matching his direction. The two of them fired at each other while running, each trying to outpace the other and prove more accurate on the move. Their ink rounds left splashes on the floor and walls, yet they always seemed to miss by the slightest margin, never quite landing on flesh.

The man running on the ground had already spent a fair number of rounds dealing with Jin Shanshan, and his magazine was nearly empty. Just as he darted behind a box to swap in a fresh magazine, the Model 92 in Hou Rui’s hand had only one round left as well.

With a furious roar, Hou Rui lunged, leaping straight out from the forty-five-meter-high metal walkway. He cut through the air and aimed himself at a stack of four boxes two meters away, then came down upon them with savage force.

The moment he landed and stamped hard, the stack began to shake violently. Hollow iron boxes could not possibly withstand such impact; just as they were about to collapse, Hou Rui sprang again. In midair, he somehow altered his direction and dove toward the box where the man with the Five was hiding.

“Want to act all cocky, do you?” But before Hou Rui’s feet even touched down, the other man with the Beretta nine-millimeter suddenly ran out to snatch the advantage. Yet Hou Rui was not so easy to ambush. He almost simultaneously traded shots with the nine-millimeter pistol, but both of the other man’s rounds missed, while Hou Rui’s own shot struck him square in the chest, at the heart.

“You...” In a fit of frustration, the man with the nine-millimeter pistol hurled the gun violently to the floor. Only then did Hou Rui land with a heavy thud atop the box where the man with the Five had been hiding. But by then the Model 92 in his hand was empty, reduced to a useless piece of scrap.

“What a pity. If he’d had one more round, Tyrant would definitely not have been a match for him.”

“What’s there to pity? He forgot to take his bullets because he was too busy avenging his girl. That just makes him a lovestruck idiot.”

While the spectators at the big screen were still talking, Tyrant, having finished reloading, raised his muzzle. Just as he was about to riddle Hou Rui with holes, Hou Rui took a different approach and simply hurled the Model 92 in his hand like a brick.

With a sharp clang, the 92 struck Tyrant squarely on the visor and bounced away. But in the instant Tyrant reflexively squeezed his eyes shut, Hou Rui had already transformed into a great bird diving straight at him, crashing into him and pinning him beneath his body.

“Was that fun, just now?” Hou Rui said, driving a hard elbow into Tyrant’s stomach. Before Tyrant could even cry out, Hou Rui, unwilling to stop there, grabbed the Five hanging on his chest and yanked it free. With a powerful swing, the butt of the gun smashed hard into Tyrant’s helmet.

Though the helmet had a face shield, the blow still left Tyrant dizzy and unsteady, especially around the neck, which felt horribly strained, as though it had been broken.

Tyrant, now stripped of any will to resist, quickly had the Five seized from him. Hou Rui then used it as a weapon, striking left and right at Tyrant’s head, slapping and hammering him mercilessly until he had no fight left at all.

At last, when Tyrant had been beaten half unconscious by those blows, Hou Rui pressed the Five against the lowest rib on his chest and squeezed the trigger with savage force.

Bang, bang, bang, then a scream. Those three shots carried enough force to snap that rib clean in two.

Only then did Hou Rui let Tyrant go. But as soon as he rose from him, his eyes swept toward the man with the nine-millimeter nearby. The feral, murderous glare in Hou Rui’s eyes made the other man tremble all over. He hurriedly lay flat on the ground, waving both hands.

“Bro, bro, don’t get excited. I’m already dead. Dead.” As he spoke, the man with the nine-millimeter even pointed deliberately at the white ink mark on his chest.

“Then I’ll whip the corpse,” Hou Rui said, and the Five in his hand fired again. The remaining rounds in the magazine struck the man’s stomach one after another, like a rapid series of heavy punches, instantly driving him to his knees and then flat to the floor, where he spat up sour water and bloody threads.

“Damn, that’s ruthless. But I like it.”

“Exactly, exactly. That’s what a real iron-blooded man looks like. I’m going to ask him out later, and tonight I’ll take him down myself.”

“Give me a break. His girl is way prettier.”

“Damn it, Cui Wei, what did you say? Say that again if you’ve got the guts.”

“All right, enough arguing. There should still be one person left in the game area. Why can’t we see him?”

“Yeah. Is he hiding to stall for time?”

“I hate that trick the most.”

In fact, the onlookers were right on the mark. While Hou Rui was avenging Jin Shanshan and mounting his fierce counterattack, the last man arranged by Zhou Xing had quietly taken the folder, all in the hope that Hou Rui would lose this match.

Having finished off the four men who had besieged Jin Shanshan, Hou Rui finally felt some of the rage in his chest ease. Standing on the ground and looking at Jin Shanshan from afar on the walkway, he suddenly made up his mind: he would win this match beautifully, and for the little policewoman.

Thinking this, Hou Rui immediately moved with speed. He slung the Five around his neck, then bent down and found a full magazine on Tyrant’s still-groaning body. But just as he was about to stand up, a shot suddenly whisked past his ear.

In that instant, if his body had risen even a few centimeters higher, the bullet would have hit his shoulder, or even his chest, right at the heart.

“Damn it, it’s an English P sniper rifle. Now this is going to be good.”

“Heh heh heh, six hundred meters of range against two hundred, with a rate of fire of one round every 0.9 seconds. Fast Hammer is really making his move.”

“Brother, I’m watching you. Blow him away with the Five.”

Outside the warehouse simulation battlefield, the excitement was off the charts. The spectators were completely lit up, nearly all of them shouting and anticipating a top-tier charge-versus-sniper showdown. Only Zhou Xing, with a sullen face, watched in silence from the corner.

Hou Rui’s performance in the match had clearly exceeded Zhou Xing’s expectations by a wide margin. It seemed the plan to teach Hou Rui a lesson by exploiting partner chaos had come to nothing. All Zhou Xing could hope for now was that the match would drag on until the end; then, at least, he could say he had gotten back at Hou Rui and beaten Liuhai by one point.

“The warehouse simulation game round is about to end. Participants in the game area, please prepare to leave the field.”

At that very moment, the system broadcast sounded like heavenly music to Zhou Xing. Just as he was preparing to mock Hou Rui a little, the big screen showed Hou Rui suddenly charging toward the sloped passage.

“What? The match is already over. What is this guy trying to do?”

“Strictly speaking, there’s still a minute left. Is he planning to rush up to the third floor within that minute and take out the sniper too?”

“That’s not impossible. Real experts and masters all have a crazy, relentless side.”

Clearly, the spectators had guessed right once again. Hou Rui really was going to take out that P rifle.