the end of the heavens

There were a few more bang bang bang bangs, and the last killer rolled over the corner, screaming in a collapsed manner, and pulled the trigger on Russell.

The bullets hit Russell, jumping happily on his body, two of them hit his face, and biu flew into the air in one go.

Click!Click!Click————

The magazine had been emptied, but the killer threw the trigger and curled up in a corner looking extremely helpless.

"Go away, monster! Please... go away!!"

Russell shrugged, amidst the killer whimpering, he stuffed two 249 machine guns into his trouser pockets, and then took out the 4a1 to replace the magazine.

"Don't move, I'll hit you on the head if you move, don't be afraid, I'll just try on your body armor."

Russell pulled the bolt, and the corners of his mouth curled up, revealing a sunny and righteous smile.

"Woooooooo, don't come here!"

The killer slammed his gun at Russell, then pulled out his pistol and fired, the magazine was empty, and he cried more fiercely.

-------------Chapter Dividing Line---------------

Bang!Bang!Bang!

Three 556mm bullets hit the reinforced body armor on the killer's chest. The initial velocity and kinetic energy of the 4a1 failed to break through the armor. After hitting the same location, two bullets bounced off and one embedded in it.

Bang!Bang!

Another two bullets hit the same place, this time it was an arm. The armor here is relatively weak. It can be seen that in the design of the body armor, the protection of the body is not as important as the protection of the internal organs.

It is understandable that considering factors such as flexibility, bloated armor is not suitable for special tactics teams to perform tasks.

"Don't be afraid, the last position, I will let you go after the test."

Seeing that the killer's spirit was about to collapse, Russell quickly comforted him.

The effect was very mediocre. Seeing the muzzle of the pressed gun pointing between his legs, the killer gave up on himself and roared, got up and ran towards the hotel gate.

Whoosh!

The tactical dagger struck from behind, penetrated the bulletproof helmet on the back of the killer's head, charged out with the corpse, smashed the glass of the hotel's revolving door, and rolled over the steps of the gate.

Outside the door, two doormen shivered in unison, they stepped forward together to drag the corpse away, and then cleaned the steps with a dust pusher.

Before the cleaning work was finished, killers lurking around rushed in.

They have been waiting for a long time and have been refused entry. Now all those in the way are dead, and no one can bother them to earn 3 million dollars.

One after another, within 3 minutes, about 40 people walked into the New York Continental Hotel.

Boom!Boom!Boom!Bang

After 15 seconds of gunfire, the two doormen looked at the dark hotel lobby, swallowed and hurriedly moved their heads away.

pat!

One doorman threw the pistol in his back into the sewer, and the other followed suit. They were just doormen and didn't know anything about the killer.

Gunshots were fired upwards from the hotel lobby, and because the elevator was blocked, the speed of death's scythe was not fast.

Second floor, third floor, fourth floor

Every 30 seconds, the gunfire moves up one layer, not more than one second, not less than one second, and the traceable frequency makes people extremely desperate.

"Dead, are they all dead?"

Holding the red wine glass, the adjudicator looked dumbfounded as if struck by lightning, and murmured in disbelief: "This is impossible, they are killers trained by the High Table since childhood, with excellent equipment and first-class tactical skills, even the best special forces can fight against them. I can't last more than 2 minutes in front of me."

"Mr. Judge, it appears that you have failed to prove my incompetence."

Winston said taunting words, but his face was extremely solemn.

He has long been famous for the horror of the elite troops of the High Table. Every killer in it, or every fighter, has been cruelly screened, and the elimination rate is as high as 90.00%.

In other words, only one person can be left for every 20 people. Behind the forty fighters in the lobby are the super elite left by 800 people after brutal competition.

Coupled with the most advanced tactical equipment of the high table, fighting in a team, the combat effectiveness is beyond doubt.

Then the question arises, what kind of enemy did they encounter that made these first-rate elites scream like pigs in fright?

It really is a monster!

Winston thought to himself, got up and walked out of the office. Even the best troops at the High Table couldn't stop Russell's progress, so he wouldn't stay and pretend to be aggressive.

Can't afford it!

"Mr. Winston, where are you going? Take me with you, I'm leaving here."

The adjudicator stepped forward quickly, ignoring Winston's disgusted eyes, and followed him with a deadpan face.

"Mr. Idiot, the same sentence, you should thank me for my loyalty to the high table, otherwise I won't care about your life."

"Understood, your loyalty is beyond doubt, and I will pass it on to the twelve chiefs."

The adjudicator took out a handkerchief, wiped off the sweat that kept falling, and added: "There are also previous incidents, which have nothing to do with your personal ability. You are very good, but that monster is too scary."

While the two were talking, they came to an independent elevator. Caron, the lobby receptionist and Winston's most trusted deputy, held an AR15 semi-automatic rifle, nodded to Winston, and swiped his card to open the elevator.

A helicopter was parked on the top floor, and it could retreat directly after Winston arrived.

"As the manager of the Continental Hotel in New York, I never thought about today's scene. It's too ridiculous. Fortunately, you are here, otherwise no matter how I explain it, the High Table Conference will not believe me."

Winston said with emotion, if he hadn't experienced it personally, he would never have dreamed that the Continental Hotel in New York would be shot down by one person.

"Mr. Winston, please stop talking. Evacuate to a safe area first. I'll listen to whatever you want to say." The adjudicator urged.

"Mr. Idiot, stay classy and remember you represent the High Table."

Winston mocked as usual, and then said: "Don't panic, there are no stairs on the No. 13th floor. It's not so easy to get to the [-]th floor after locking the elevator. The monster can't catch up with us."

"Very sensible design, I love God!"

A smile appeared on the adjudicator's stiff face, embarrassed yet polite.

The two entered the elevator, but there was no movement after a long while. Kalong beside him was sweating profusely, and there was no response when he swiped his card several times.

"What, what's wrong?"

"Caron, what's going on?"