North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 22 "Party Time!"

On the streets of Chicago at night, a premeditated ambush is underway.

A van with "Loboro Fried Chicken" printed on the body was blocked by two cars. Before the driver could react, more than a dozen gunmen rushed out from the alleys on both sides!
“Bang bang bang bang bang—!”

The gunshots rang out like firecrackers, and more than a dozen gun muzzles spewed out flames at the same time, pouring bullets madly at the truck.

As a result, after these guys finished firing a round of bullets, the driver was still intact in the driver's seat and even had time to use his cell phone.

"Fuck! Installing bulletproof glass on the truck? Gus is so fucking rich!" Tu Ku cursed unhappily while ordering his men to change their weapons.

After all, this is downtown Chicago. Even if he specifically chose a road with less traffic to attack, if he can't end the battle quickly, the police patrolling nearby will soon arrive.

He reached out to the younger brother behind him and shouted, "Get the big guy! The big guy!"

The next second, Tu Ku felt his hand sink and he almost fell down due to the weight.

He turned his head and saw that he had a rocket launcher in his hand.
"Sangaofu bitch! Did you guys take drugs and ruin your brains?!"

Tuku angrily yelled, "This is Chicago! Not Somalia! We're looting, you think this is a war?! Change to submachine guns!"

"Oh oh."

Tu Ku had indeed made sufficient preparations for this ambush.

In addition to equipping each person with a pistol, he also specially prepared a rocket launcher and a dozen submachine guns.

However, just as they were preparing for the second round of offensive, something unexpected happened.

The driver, who was originally sitting steadily in the driver's seat, actually opened a door from behind and got straight into the car.

Tu Ku thought that this guy was going to escape, so he immediately rushed forward with his men, but before he had taken a few steps, he heard intensive gunfire in the distance.

A car sped out from the corner of the road, and three gunmen in front, behind, and on both sides leaned out of the car windows and fought back at Tu Ku and the others fearlessly.

Yes, Rorschach seemed to have forgotten to tell them.

Behind each truck sent by Gus, there was a guard vehicle hidden specifically for supervision and protection.

"It's Gus's men! Kill them!"

Tu Ku, who was already annoyed because he had not taken the truck for a long time, was furious when he found out that Gus's gunmen were lying in ambush behind it.

He didn't even bother to look for cover, he just rushed out with his submachine gun!

The two gangs immediately started a fight in the middle of the street. Under the cover of night, flames were seen on both sides. The whole street looked like several large boxes of firecrackers were lit, and gunfire roared continuously.

"Boss! Something's happened! The truck seems to be on fire!"

"What?! Didn't I emphasize not to hit the gas tank?!"

Tu Ku looked unhappily in the direction his younger brother pointed, and sure enough, wisps of flames were already shooting out from under the truck.

In just a few breaths, the entire truck had burned into a huge fireball!

The fire was so fierce and burned so fast that even new energy sources could not keep up.

Under Tu Ku's heartbroken gaze, the driver who had disappeared before appeared again.

He was standing next to the burning truck, holding a lighter in his hand, staring at the butcher with a fierce look in his eyes.

Each of their trucks was equipped with an incineration device in the back to destroy all drugs in an emergency, but this was the first time it was used today after all these years.

If the boss had not ordered them to destroy all the goods over the phone, the driver would have even been determined to fight to the death with Tu Ku and the others in order to protect the goods.

After all, every time they delivered a batch of goods, they could get a very considerable reward. At this moment, looking at the completely destroyed goods, both the driver and the gunmen responsible for escorting them were extremely angry.

The desperate criminals shot at Tu Ku and his men crazily without hesitation.

However, due to their disadvantages in numbers and weapons, they were quickly suppressed by Tu Ku and others and had to hide behind bunkers, anxiously waiting for the arrival of reinforcements.

At the same time, a car leaving the fried chicken shop was rushing to the nearest truck attack scene.

Gus's phone kept ringing throughout the journey. When he learned that all the goods in the five trucks had been destroyed, Gus's expression finally looked a little better.

For him, he could easily afford the loss of five truckloads of quality goods.

But if the police later discovered that there were drugs in the truck that was transported to the fried chicken shop, then the transportation and sales network he had painstakingly built in Chicago would be destroyed and the losses would be incalculable.

"If you can't hold on any longer, retreat first. Don't keep engaging in a heated battle with the enemy. Just remember their appearance."

"No, Boss! After seeing the goods burnt, these guys not only didn't leave, but instead became even more crazy and pestered us. We can't escape at all!"

"Fuck! Where did this lunatic come from? Find a chance to escape back. I'll send someone to pick you up right now."

Gus hung up the phone angrily, having lost his usual calmness and composure.

It would have been fine if five trucks were attacked at the same time, but they continued to fight even after all the cargo was burned.

He suddenly remembered an old rival of his, and the only gang in the city that dared to go against him - the Salamanca family.

"Mike, how many gunmen are stationed at the dry cleaning factory right now?"

Old Mike, who was driving, glanced at the gloomy-looking Gus in the rearview mirror and quickly replied, "About forty."

"Send out twenty men, immediately rush to the location where the truck was attacked to retrieve our men."

"Will we make it in time? I'm afraid the police will have arrived at the scene by now."

"Tell them as many people as you can. Tell them to pick up our people and kill anyone from the Salamanca family they encounter!"

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Suburbs.

Rorschach leaned against the car, gazing into the distance at the cars speeding out of the dry cleaning factory.

After the factory gate closed again, he threw away his cigarette butt and stomped it out, then walked calmly to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

In the moonlight, standard weapons were lying quietly in the carriage.

He first picked up an Alvin 37 grenade launcher equipped with three 37mm caliber shrapnel shells, but after thinking about it, he put it back.

"They're just a bunch of drug dealers. Using grenades seems a bit too high-profile."

Rorschach muttered something, shrugged, and chose a few less conspicuous weapons.

The main weapon is a Benelli M2 semi-automatic shotgun, equipped with sixteen twelve-caliber armor-piercing buckshot bullets; the melee weapon is an Austrian TTI Glock 34 pistol; and the dessert is a double-edged Troodon straight jumping knife plus an M84 flash grenade.

He nodded with satisfaction, which made it much more low-key.

Gazing at the factory in the distance that hid countless crimes, Rorschach raised his shotgun and pulled the bolt hard, and a crisp sound of loading was heard in the dark night.

“Party Time.”

Please read this and vote if you have tickets.

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(End of this chapter)