Boom!

As soon as he finished speaking, Moka pulled the trigger.

next moment.

With blood splattering on Bruce's chest, he took a few steps back and fell directly into the bathtub.

Mocha frowned.

Until now, Bruce is still holding the black windbreaker tightly in his hand.

"Just in time, let me keep you company with this windbreaker."

He noticed that Bruce's chest was rising and falling slightly, obviously not dead.

Moka raised his gun again and pointed it at Bruce.

At this moment, the bathroom window was suddenly broken, and a projectile was thrown in.

The sound of rolling on the floor immediately reminded Moka of an object.

"Grenade!"

Moka's expression changed, and he didn't care about dealing with Bruce. He jumped out of the bathroom and threw himself to the ground.

However, the imaginary explosion did not appear. Instead, there was a continuous flow of smoke, which quickly enveloped the bathroom.

Moka's face darkened, he made a mistake in judgment.

It turned out to be a smoke bomb, not a grenade.

Thinking about it, if Bruce's subordinates would have thrown the grenade in, it would have killed Bruce.

Snapped!

There was a sound of breaking glass in the bathroom. Mocha secretly thought something was wrong and walked to the bathroom door.

He did not choose to go in. The bathroom was filled with smoke and he could not see anything clearly.

It didn't matter to Mocha, he remembered where the bathroom window was.

Bah! Bah! Bah!

He raised the muzzle of his gun and fired three shots at the window.

But other than the shattering of glass, there was no other sound.

"Fake!"

Mocha cursed.

He immediately walked to the balcony on the second floor.

The villa has three floors in total. The balcony on the second floor is very large, covering an area of ​​fifty square meters. From the balcony, you can go around to the bathroom window.

He walked to the balcony and found a ladder set up on the wall below the bathroom. There were six people below. One of them fell to the ground and was being lifted up by others in preparation for moving away.

"No, Bruce is leaving."

Moka couldn't help but take out his pistol and aim it downward.

But the moment he pulled the trigger, he hesitated.

There were only three bullets in the pistol, and there were six people underneath.

Even if Bruce is removed, there are still five people, and it is impossible for him to kill them all.

"Mr. Moka, put down your gun."

At this time, a man's cold voice came from behind.

Moka heard it.

"Is it Bruce's assistant Remy?"

"That's right, count me in."

Remy raised his pistol and pointed it at Mocha, his color was gloomy and his eyes were full of anger.

Bruce was shot and his life or death was uncertain. As an assistant, he could not absolve himself of the blame.

Of course, what he cares about is not responsibility, but deep guilt and self-blame.

Originally he was just an ordinary security guard. After arriving on the satellite island, Bruce took a liking to Remy and directly promoted him to assistant.

This decision caused dissatisfaction among many people, but Bruce overcame all opinions and suppressed other people's doubts.

Remy also did a good job and lived up to his expectations. Gradually, others began to recognize Remy.

In Remy's heart, Bruce is like his reborn parent.

Now Bruce has been shot, and the shooter is Mocha in front of him.

"Remy, don't get excited."

Moka stared at the gun in his hand, a little afraid.

"Throw away the revolver, immediately!"

Remy snapped.

"Okay, I'll throw it."

Mocha obediently threw away the revolver and raised his hands.

"Are you satisfied now?"

Seeing this, Remy carefully walked to the pistol, pointed the muzzle at Mocha, and bent down to pick up the revolver.

"Mocha, just wait."

Remy said bitterly.

"If there is any problem with the captain, I will kill you even if I risk my life."

Facing Remy's threat, Moka smiled disdainfully.

"Even your captain doesn't dare to do anything to me? What can you do?"

Remy said no more, ran to the balcony, leaned over and jumped down.

Then, Remy quickly walked into the woods.

"I didn't expect that a dignified captain of the armed forces could not even recognize this method."

Remy smiled proudly.

He casually threw away the gun he had pointed at Mocha.

Of course this was not a real gun, but a fake gun borrowed from a nearby employee's house.

It was this gun that gave him some courage, and he finally succeeded in deceiving Mocha and took a revolver from his hand.

"It looks like this gun was the gun that killed Blake."

Remy thought, without losing speed, that he was going to the infirmary to check on Bruce's condition.

After Remy left, Mocha gradually came to his senses.

"Something's wrong."

Moka narrowed his eyes.

"If Remy hated me so much, why didn't he shoot me on the spot?"

"There is only one explanation, that gun is fake!"

Moka punched the wall, very angry.

His revolver was stolen!

"No, I have to find a way to get rid of my guilt."

Moka rolled his eyes and began to think about countermeasures.

On the other side, Bruce, who had been rescued, was already lying on the bed in the infirmary.

"Doctor, how is it?"

Remy breathed heavily and burst in.

Looking at Bruce surrounded by doctors and nurses, Remy's face turned pale.

"There is currently no life-threatening danger."

the doctor said.

"Although the bullet hit the chest, it did not hit the internal organs. It should have passed under the ribs. Your captain is still very lucky."

Upon hearing the doctor's words, the subordinates standing behind Remy cheered, and the whole building seemed to shake.

"Quiet!"

The doctor frowned and said.
To be continued...