When did you give your loyalty to Tamar Riadhi?

Chirp thought.

Was it many years ago, in an abandoned factory where an underground boxing tournament was held, when he, as a spectator, smashed a wad of bills at himself who was still standing with his face covered in blood?

Was it when he smiled lightly and invited himself to join the gang?

Was it when he paid for the treatment of his father, who was seriously ill?

Chirp hadn't read, but he wasn't as stupid as he appeared to be.

He knew very well that a large part of Tamar Riadi's favor to him came from the value he had shown.

This is normal, people who are incapable are not even worthy of being used.

As a humble black fighter who was once mired in the quagmire and couldn't extricate himself from it, even a penny could not be paid, a little kindness from others in despair is worth repaying the wellspring.

Even if the price is to abandon the former concept of good and evil, and to do many sins that I once dared not think of,

The thin, swarthy, unassuming chirp stood in the middle of the hallway, and behind him there were already many gang members with long guns and short cannons.

Tread, step, step.

The sound of footsteps came from the corridor in the distance,

Everyone's muscles tensed instantly, their sweaty hands grasped the guns, and their fingers gently pulled on the trigger.

Li Ang, dressed in special operations equipment, pushed a beautiful red motorcycle and walked up the stairs.

He stepped onto a Ducati Panigale V4 motorcycle, palm over glove, twisting the grip of the motorcycle.

Boom - boom - boom -

The exhaust pipe roared hoarsely, and the streamlined body trembled slightly, and this swift and hideous beast was already impatient.

In the distance, Chirp squatted down violently, picked up the individual bazooka placed on the ground, half-knelt, and pulled the trigger towards Leon.

Bang –

A huge flame erupted from the rear of the bazooka, blowing away several gang members closest to the tweet.

But the sound of the cannon seemed to be some kind of signal, causing the gang members gathered in the corridor to rain bullets towards the end of the corridor.

Warheads whizz through the corridors like a downpour.

Leon looked at the rain of bullets and tightened the throttle to the maximum.

The tires of the Ducati panigale V4 spun wildly, and the huge grip caused the entire motorcycle to rush out like a wild horse.

At this moment, he was like Don Quixote challenging the windmill, sprinting towards the rain of bullets and bullets of death.

The motorcycle moved forward, and at the moment when it was about to touch the rain of bullets, Leon took out a shield from the backpack bar.

The front of the shield is triangular, the overall shape is slightly larger than the door panel, and it is made of two 10mm homogeneous high-strength steel plates spliced together at a 60° angle.

At the middle intersection, several short steel pipes are used to support it.

In the center of the intersection also extends a long steel pipe in the shape of a thread diagonally downward, which serves as a grip for Leon to hold.

Under the shield, three pulleys were welded,

Above each pulley, a steel plate also extends parallel to the rear, intersecting the rebar pipe grip in the center of the shield, and a pulley is also welded at the intersection to be responsible for the stability of the rear.

This strange-shaped, turtle-like man-made shield was created by Li Ang himself, and it took a lot of time and energy.

Its only role is to defend against ammunition coming from the front.

Just like it is now.

Leon let go of the grip of the motorcycle, pushed the shield in one hand, pulled out the SCAR-H assault rifle in the other, and fired at the speeding rocket.

A series of bullets, precisely chiseled into the slightly curved rocket warhead,

I heard a loud bang, and a brilliant fire burst out in the center of the corridor.

The shockwave reverberated and the gang members at one end of the corridor felt their hair being blown backwards

Billowing smoke wafted and obscured people's vision.

In the smoke, the sound of the motorcycle's motor was still dull and whistling.

Without saying a word, he threw the rocket to the subordinate next to him to reload, and he quickly picked up his gun and continued to shoot at Leon at the end of the corridor.

The motorcycle under the crotch is Don Quixote's steed, and the triangular steel shield is the knight's spear in Don Quixote's hand.

Finally, the "Knight" hit the rain of bullets head-on.

When, when, when, when.

The bullets kept hitting the steel plates, but they were defeated in front of the thickness of 10mm, and they kept bouncing off, digging holes in the wall one after another.

The forward momentum of the motorcycle was slightly blocked, but Leon continued to move forward amid the wild roar of the engine.

He ran over the floor shattered by the rocket blast and broke through the smoke to the middle of the hallway.

Leon jerked the steel shield forward, and let go of the palm holding the shield, swinging the direction of the vehicle, keeping himself within the shield's defensive range,

He picked up his gun, pulled the trigger, and let the bullet pierce through the unprepared enemy.

Chirp, who had already foreseen this scene, hurriedly rolled to the side, avoiding the death line made of ammunition.

He looked back and saw his men lying on the ground, blood pouring down.

At the end of the line, some people have already begun to flee in panic,

However, before the chirp could shoot them in the back,

Bullet after bullet came through the door on the side of the hallway.

Four of Leon's teammates, while he was sprinting on his motorcycle, had already climbed to the eighth floor through the towing rope.

They quietly infiltrated the room, through the door, and aimed their guns at the ignorant gangsters.

Under the surprise attack, the battle line improvised by the poisonous insects collapsed in an instant, and the entire corridor became a deadly passage for infection and death.

Pools of blood flowed, and there was little place to settle down in the corridors,

Chirp hurriedly rolls, breaks through the wooden door of the factory, and rolls over and hides behind the load-bearing wall.

He listened to the incessant gunshots, and after a brief frantic beat, his heart fell silent.

Is that today?

He thought back to his not very glorious life, and there were scenes of pain, joy, or mixed memories in front of his eyes, and there was no sadness or joy between his eyebrows.

Eventually, the gunfire died down, and the moaning and screaming could no longer be heard.

The wooden door of the factory was kicked open,

Hidden behind the wall, the chirp bounced off the ground in an instant, holding a pistol in his right hand and a tiger claw knife in his left hand, and pointed the muzzle of the gun at the door.

He was ready to take the door open, and he would hold him hostage in exchange for his own life.

However, behind the wooden door that was kicked open, there was no one,

Instead, there was a grenade, and I don't know who pulled off the pull ring and gently threw it into the door.

The bones rolled, just behind the chirping ass.

“...”

Boom –

The grenade exploded, and the chirp didn't have time to make his last life speech, and it was cleanly blown into two.

One in the hallway, one inside the door.