A global reward of 100 million US dollars was publicly offered, and killers all over the world went crazy. They witnessed the account amount soaring from 6 million, and the information came with a friendly reminder from the New York branch of the Continental Hotel.
It's said to be a friendly reminder, but it's more like a warning. It's a long sentence, and the general idea is: great value for money, don't bother newbies.
In other words, this $100 million is very hot, so be careful not to spend it without your life.
Maybe killers in other cities, or even other countries, are still lucky and are preparing to take a long trip to earn a lot of extra money, but the killers in New York City have basically stopped, and they are still sitting on the 100 million US dollars that they are making fun of.
The killers far away from the slums lamented for the first time that traffic jams are not without their benefits. At least this time, they saved a small life due to the slow speed of the car.
But the killers in the parking lot were not so lucky. After the group text message worth 100 million US dollars, there was another wave of parking craze in the slum area, and the number of killers gathered here approached three digits.
After two consecutive failed attempts to break into the abandoned building and three consecutive failed attempts to escape by car, the remaining fifty killers huddled behind the car and trembled.
If you can't advance or retreat, you will die if you show up!
The pressure of death was like a huge boulder, weighing them down and suffocating them. Some people jumped repeatedly on the edge of collapse, covering their faces with their hands and crying bitterly.
"I can't take it anymore!"
A killer couldn't bear the pressure and stood up from the ground suddenly. After a gunshot, the killer got his wish and received his lunch box.
He left with a smile on his face!
The corpse's hands and feet were twitching, and the killer next to him looked at the bean sprouts all over the floor, his eyelids twitching slightly, but he didn't say anything more.
It’s a small scene that I’ve seen many times today.
"Damn it, he's out, the monster is coming towards us."
A female killer was holding a makeup mirror. When she saw Russell carrying M4A1 out of the lobby on the first floor, she was immediately frightened and the air humidity increased.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang————
There was loud gunfire in the parking lot, and the killers aimed their guns and cannons at the lobby on the first floor, unleashing their firepower like crazy.
Unwilling to give up, two people took the opportunity to slip into the car door and start the car to escape.
After the gunfire, the car turned sharply, lost control and hit the wall. However, this was not a traffic accident because the people inside were gone before the car accident.
When the intensive gunfire stopped, Russell stepped out of the corner, raised his M4A1 horizontally, and passed in front of him from right to left. Bullets accurately hit the killers' guns or arms exposed outside the car.
Occasionally, a few people poked their heads out, and their foreheads were all blooming, and they just left without saying hello.
Click!
The sound of m4a1 changing the magazine sounded, but in the parking lot there was only the groan of the injured killer, but no one dared to show his head or even fire back.
The spiritual defense line was crushed to pieces. This group of people had lost their will to fight. Some of them wiped some blood on the ground, smeared it on their faces and fell to the ground to pretend to be dead...
Then he was kicked awake by his companion. This was so stupid.
Russell walked into the parking lot and walked through the chaos of vehicles. Gunshots were fired one after another, biting away at the killers' mental will.
"Don't shoot. I have a daughter to raise. She is only three years old. I can't die here. Please let me go."
A crying voice sounded, and a killer stood up from behind the car with his hands raised.
There was a dead silence in the parking lot, and the killers were full of expectations. If the colleagues with daughter characters were not dead, then... then they all had daughters.
Russell narrowed his eyes slightly and grinned after a moment: "You do have a daughter, but she is already twenty years old. She is the daughter you paid to find."
Bang!
One bullet sent this scumbag to hell. Russell continued to clean up the killers in the parking lot. However, the killers saw his style of leaving no one alive and angrily launched a final wave of counterattacks.
After the magazine was replaced, more than thirty killers stood up at the same time and pointed their guns at Russell.
They bet again, bet on their luck, and confront each other head-on. Russell can't kill them all in an instant. Some people will survive.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang————
Russell unloaded the magazine, and the killers in front fell to the ground neatly with their guns raised, as if the Internet cafe had lost power and went offline collectively.
They lost the bet, Russell could really kill them all in an instant.
"Hey, if you're a man, put down your gun and have a life-threatening duel with me."
In the parking lot, the two remaining killers stood up, their eyes bloodshot and red, each holding a dagger in their hands.
Russell: "..."
Where did this silly beep come from?
"Throw away the gun, it's time for you to prove yourself!"
Bang! Bang!
Russell pulled the trigger speechlessly and shook his head at the corpse: "Sorry, I don't have to prove anything to you."
Tsk!
A convertible sports car drove into the parking lot. In the driver's seat, the blonde beauty killer was wearing a red evening dress. Her slender waist was cinched and her breasts were bulging. She looked at Russell in the pile of corpses in shock. She quickly reacted, reversed the car and fled from the place.
"Little sister, walk slowly, no one will chase you..."
When facing high-quality resources, Russell couldn't bear it and didn't want to see the tragic situation of his forehead blooming, so he suppressed the m4a1's gun.
After the sports car drove out of the corner of the parking lot, he pulled out the M9 and flicked his arm violently, and an arcing bullet came out of the chamber, followed immediately by the sound of the sports car hitting the wall.
This way you won’t be able to see it!
At this point, the killers in New York City have completely calmed down. More than 200 of their colleagues have died in civilian areas. They can't help but calm down.
At the same time, the "High Table Organization" to which the New York branch of the Continental Hotel was loyal was paying close attention to Russell. More than two hundred killers were certainly an extremely serious loss, but what was even more frightening was that the reputation of the Continental Hotel had been hit hard. For the first time in history,
Second-rate.
What should I do if I take off my clothes?
Just wear it again.
The idea of the High Table Organization is also simple and crude. Kill Russell to restore credibility and eliminate uncontrollable risks.
Maybe Russell showed a powerful fighting ability of one against a hundred, but after all, he is a body of flesh and blood. The High Table Organization firmly believes that Russell cannot be on full alert 24 hours a day.
He needs to eat and drink, he needs to sleep to replenish his energy, and he cannot always carry a gun with him...
A 40-member professional team set off for New York, and the reward for Russell was increased again. Any killer who can kill him will become rich overnight and gain a high status and status within the organization.
[Name: Russell]
[Status: Global Open Contract]
[Amount: US$300 million]
…
"Hello, Director?"
Russell took out his mobile phone and walked towards the surveillance camera: "It's me. The situation is a bit serious. About 200 killers surrounded me."
"I'm fine, not injured, in fact I've got the situation under control... Of course, who am I, I've got them all under control."
"My current position is in xxx, not in our jurisdiction. I hope you can explain to your colleagues here that we are all on our own, so please don't embarrass yourself... Oh, I mean, don't embarrass me."
"It's really okay!"
Russell turned to look at the parking lot and nodded seriously: "I'm not going to lie to you, they are all honest, actively cooperate, and have no unrealistic illusions."
After making the call, Russell raised his hand and pointed at the surveillance camera, then pulled out his M9 and shot it.
After finishing all this, he turned sideways and looked towards the lobby on the first floor, shrugged and said: "I know you are there, there is no need to hide, come forward!"
There was no response, as if Russell was talking to himself.
"Stop hiding, I'm talking about you, the invisible one."
"..."
After the words fell, Russell's forehead had three more infrared aiming points, and a tall figure with a gray body and a metal mask appeared.
He is visually estimated to be 2.2 meters tall, with a majestic build, a cool braided reggae shawl, and a plasma cannon ready to go off on his right shoulder.
Predator!
Russell raised his eyebrows. Based on the biological reaction, he speculated that the visitor was an alien, but he did not expect it to be a Predator.
He dispersed electromagnetic waves, sensed communication equipment within a two-kilometer radius, and confirmed that there were no probes or other objects before pointing his gun at the Predator.
Bang!
There was a gunshot, and the Predator's head shook slightly, and the high-tech visor bounced off the bullet, leaving a trace of scratches.
To Russell's surprise, the Predator did not activate the electromagnetic gun to fight back. Instead, he took off his face armor and placed it respectfully on the ground.
The electromagnetic gun was folded behind the bed, and the Predator opened his mouth like a mouthpiece, fixed his ferocious gaze on Russell, and with a clang, ejected his wrist knife.
A melee arm weapon, mounted on the outside of the wrist, with two parallel serrated blades about 40 centimeters in length, which are sharp enough to cut the bones of various prey.
"Wow, you are so chic, you look really good!"
Russell sighed with emotion, and then asked: "What do you mean by taking off your mask? Do you want to fight alone?"
Russell looked confused and gestured with his hands and said: "Watch the game and you will die, Yingge is tired?"
The Predator was silent for a few seconds, pointing to his chest, and then to Russell: "Strong! Challenge! Honor!"
When a Predator fights or hunts with a wrist knife, it means that the hunter is putting his honor and pride on the line in battle, as well as his respect for his enemy.
Through the collision of muscle with muscle, blood with blood, the Predator will kill the enemy, or be killed by the enemy.
No matter whether this battle is life or death, they don't mind, because their beliefs and codes of conduct make them regard honor as the supreme glory and more important than life.
It's ridiculous, but the values of the Predator are so true. It is generally believed that shame is more terrible than death.
Of course, honor is honor, and the Predators are notoriously bad losers. Whenever they are knocked down by a powerful enemy, they will self-destruct and die together with the enemy.
The power is average, at the level of a micro-nuclear explosion. It can only destroy Brooklyn and one Manhattan.
"Well, you are different from them. You are a warrior rather than a killer. Then I will satisfy you once."
Russell sighed, threw away the M4A1 and M9 in his hand, and took off his bulletproof vest.
The Predator on the opposite side was stunned, snorted coldly, and took off his breastplate, as if he didn't want to take advantage of Russell.
Then, he took out the fighting cane from his waist and ejected it into a double-headed spear that was more than two meters long. Both sides were extremely sharp and had an electric shock effect.
The Predator threw the spear and it fell at Russell's feet.
"I understand, I have weapons."
Russell shook his head slightly, kicked the spear back, and then pulled out the Adamantium knife from his pants pocket.
"..."
The Predator looked at Russell's pockets in confusion, preparing to take off his pants as a souvenir of honor after the battle.