The killers who had just entered the fourth floor were pleasantly surprised to find that the other party had no intention of playing hide and seek with them again, which saved them a lot of time. Pen ~ Fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info However, what frightened them was that the other party's combat power was far beyond their imagination.

Just as they began to disperse their search, one of the squads had already been attacked.

Peter burst out of the shadows, grabbed the head of the man at the back of the line, and slammed it against the wall across the hallway. Before the man's teammates could react, Peter had disappeared into the shadows again. They fired a few shots in the darkness and hurriedly tried to go up to check on their teammates.

However, this carelessness comes at a cost. Peter didn't go far, he silently appeared behind a man, locked the other's throat and dragged him backwards. The remaining two people hurriedly chased after them after reacting to it, but they only saw their companion's unconscious body.

The second attack occurred less than four minutes later. The 6th Squad, which was searching the south-east direction, was attacked by Peter in a utility room.

Seconds after they entered the room, Peter, who was hiding from the ceiling, fell from the sky, and the steel roller in his hand knocked down the hapless guy below him.

The few people who were left had already raised their vigilance when another group was attacked, and their reaction speed was extremely fast. Peter's position was flooded with bullets less than a second later, and Peter was long gone. It was the guy he had put to the ground who had the misfortune of lying down and getting two bullets in the butt.

In the darkness of his fingers, Peter used the advantage of his perception to the fullest. His form shifted between darkness and light, as if he were an apparition that could appear in multiple places at once. Each appearance seemed to have no pattern, leaving all the enemies trying to guess his location into the air, and the whistling bullets all hit the air.

And in the midst of their hysterical counterattack, Peter seized a gap and appeared beside a man like a phantom. In the next moment, Peter's attack erupted like a storm.

Headbutt, right hook, elbow, left hook, top knee, hand knife, and finally a straight triple hit to the opponent's face.

The opponent was unconscious halfway through Peter's combo. When Peter's final punch knocked him away, he collapsed to the ground like a sack, with at least three broken bones and a face that would require a fairly comprehensive cosmetic surgery.

Before Peter could make any more movements, he suddenly took a few steps back. In the next moment, the lights illuminate the entire room. The rest of the personnel who heard their distress call poured in through the front and back doors of the storage room, and a dozen flashlights illuminated the room as if it were daylight.

However, they did not see any trace of the attacker in this small room, and Peter disappeared again.

"Windows! He escaped through the window! After more than ten seconds of searching, a killer pointed to a nearby window and shouted. And he was right. When they looked closely, they realized that the window, which appeared to be firmly locked, was in fact only partially hidden, and a small piece of dust had been wiped off the eaves.

There is no doubt that the man left from here.

The two people in the team immediately subconsciously rushed out and ran towards the corridor where the window was connected. Taking the initiative at the first time has become an instinct that has been cultivated over the course of their long careers.

"Come back to Lao Tzu!" Michael roared angrily behind them, but it was too late. Their figures had already walked out the door.

At the same time, two tooth-aching crashes came from a distance of only two or three meters from the door.

What followed was a mess. Screams and gunfire mingled. When Michael drove out of the storage room, there was only one person left in the hallway outside the door, sitting on the floor with a loaded pistol in his hand and a blank look on his face.

The other man was gone.

"What's going on?" Michael crouched down in front of the man sitting on the ground and asked word by word with anger in his anger.

"He.—" The man shuddered a few times, but couldn't spell out a single word he could understand. Michael rubbed his forehead and slapped the man in the face.

The man finally came back to his senses, and when he saw Michael, who was already pale, his cold sweat immediately flowed.

"He came out from behind us like a ghost! Sid was captured by him, and I shot him several times in quick succession without hitting him! That guy has a quirk! The man's words began to become incoherent again, and it seemed that he had been a little frightened a little too much just now. Michael was silent for a few seconds before a knife knocked him unconscious.

This kind of morale-disrupting guy is good if he doesn't kill with a single shot. For some reason, Michael suddenly missed the time when he was a mercenary.

Although the strength of the other party seems to be a little stronger than he imagined, from Michael's point of view, they still have the upper hand in this cat-and-mouse game. It seems that his goal has been cornered, and he has begun to do the final battle of the trapped beast, but it will all be in vain. They have an almost decisive advantage: for some reason, they seem reluctant to kill.

Although the other party was heavy enough, these people were afraid that they would have a concussion, but the helmet man caused no fatal injuries after all. Of the seven people knocked down by the other party, three have now woken up, and they have somewhat recovered a little combat effectiveness, and the other two wake up is just a matter of time. There is such a woman's kindness on the battlefield, which is undoubtedly self-defeating.

"Looks like we're going to have to be a little more careful now. You can see that the enemy is not easy to mess with," Michael glanced at the crowd. "Now it is divided into four brigades of five people each. First of all, you should ensure your own safety and do not act alone. Alright, let's go! ”

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A few hallways away, Peter lay on top of a cabinet, gasping for air. His wounded lungs were overwhelmed.

Now, if he takes a deep breath, the blood foam in his lungs will accumulate and make him hurt even more. But the air that can really be absorbed by ordinary shallow breathing is not enough for his body to function properly. Now there are a lot of black spots in his vision, and this is a phenomenon caused by lack of oxygen.

He sat down and used the last of his mental strength to heal his wounds. When it was consumed, Peter felt a sense of exhaustion that almost came from the depths of his soul take over his brain, as if he hadn't slept for two days and two nights.

Now he doesn't want to talk about his prediction ability, even the reaction speed of his own body has been reduced by nearly half, and his combat effectiveness has been greatly reduced. But that's what he had to do, and after roughly repairing his lungs again, he had briefly regained his physical mobility.

Force perception unfolds again, enveloping most of the floor. But this time, what he perceived was blurry, like a sighted person wearing a pair of high-strength glasses. An inexplicable headache followed, and Peter only lasted for a moment before he had to withdraw from his state of perception.

He rubbed his sore temples. The two attacks were quite effective, and now the local staff had been drawn to this side of the level by Peter. If Joe had been able to seize this opportunity, he might have managed to escape.

As his head grew more and more painful, Peter scratched at the back of his head sadly, and for some reason the pain always gave him a sense of déjà vu.

At this moment, he suddenly understood something, and a lazy donkey rolled and threw himself on the ground.

Three bullet holes appeared on the cabinet where Peter was lying on his stomach, and Peter rolled to the side several times with a sharp force, dodging another round of bullets. Michael, who was on the other side of the hallway, sneered a few times and fired another triple shot.

"I guessed right, you didn't run far!" Without hesitation, Michael fired all the bullets in the magazine. Peter's current early warning ability has been greatly weakened due to the squandering of his mental power, but in this dimly lit scene with many obstacles, the opponent's accuracy rate is not very high.

Peter's counterattack also came in the next moment, and Peter's dodging figure changed strangely, and he immediately escaped from the range of his flashlight. And just one breath later, Peter's figure appeared in front of Michael, and a punch was slammed into his face.

Pretty bad technique, but it's undoubtedly an excellent timing.

Michael commented silently in his mind, and then made the best course of response. Instead of needlessly using his rifle to shoot an enemy that was already taped to his face, he would block Peter's punch with the barrel of his gun, and then smash the rifle into Peter's head like a short stick.

Peter, who had lost most of his foresight, was rather unaccustomed to this style of fighting, narrowly dodging the blow. But Michael's attack was not over, as he first threw his rifle, which had become a burden in close combat, at Peter, and then pulled out his spare pistol.

The moment Peter caught the rifle, Michael fired four shots quickly.

The first bullet flew through Peter's throat and landed in the air, but the next three shots hit the target.

The first two bullets hit him in the arm, adding two more wounds to Peter's body. And the last bullet went straight through the windshield of his helmet. Peter took a few steps back and exhaled in pain.