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Chapter 50 Massacre da Praa XV
people.

There are people everywhere.

More and more people, crowded and noisy.

The stench of sweat, smoke, and burning paper mingled together.

Each breath felt like swallowing a scorching cloud of waste gas, pressing down on my chest, heavy and sticky.

Shouts rose and fell, surging and expanding, engulfing the entire square.

In the distance, white smoke rose, and flames appeared and disappeared intermittently.

"Corrupt official! Damn liar!"

"Get out of Brazil! You've sucked our blood dry!"

"Fora! Fora! Fora!"

The banner was waved, and a huge, glaring "X" was scribbled haphazardly with red paint, completely covering Antonio's face.

The statue in front of the city hall was vandalized, covered in all sorts of foul language, with the paint still dripping wet.

Several young men stood on the base, yelling and pulling hard on the lasso, trying to pull it down.

"Come on! One more time!"

The ropes tightened, the statue swayed slightly, and a frenzied howl erupted from below.

The crowd grew increasingly restless.

Stones would occasionally fly out from the middle, trailing short, sharp whistling sounds, and crash into the heavily guarded FNSP[1].

"Stop! Don't come any closer!"

The soldiers' warnings came through the loudspeaker, but were quickly drowned out by louder protests.

Scott stood at the front, observing everything silently.

He wore a regular T-shirt and jeans, occasionally shouting slogans to make himself seem more like a member of the group.

"Captain, shall we fire?"

Bruno's voice came through the hidden earpiece, sounding somewhat restless.

Scott glanced around, then after a moment, lowered his head slightly and whispered towards his collar, "No, wait a minute."

It's still lacking in emotional depth and needs more time to develop.

Suddenly, a force squeezed in from the side.

A young girl nearly bumped into Scott's shoulder.

They were so close that he could clearly smell the mixture of sweat and cheap perfume on her.

In his early twenties, his cheeks flushed with excitement and his voice hoarse, he still swung his fist with all his might.

"Corrupt officials must step down! Get out of Brazil!"

"Kill those vampires! We've had enough!"

Just then, the crowd suddenly pushed her, and the girl lost her balance, tripped, and fell forward.

"Be careful."

Scott instinctively reached out and scooped the girl up before she fell to the ground.

His palm touched her sweaty arm; her pulse was rapid, but the girl didn't even glance at it.

She flung Scott's hand away and continued charging forward without hesitation, pushing and shoving, tearing a path through the chaos.

Scott narrowed his eyes and gave a cold laugh.

Hey, there are other competitors too.

It's exactly the same as the role I play.

The technique was good, but unfortunately, the equipment was lacking, preventing the incident from escalating further.

If she hadn't been leading the team on site, she probably would have returned empty-handed today.

"Captain, on the northwest side, at the 15 PM mark on the high ground, there seems to be an FNSP special response team. Should we clear them out?"

Bruno asked again.

Scott rolled his eyes and muttered in a low voice, "We're not here to fucking fight a war."

Even as he said this, he turned his head and looked in the direction Bruno had marked.

There was a small watchtower there, and two figures could be vaguely seen moving about.

Their position is high enough, and their view is wide enough.

If they are allowed to remain there, the FNSP will react faster than expected, impacting subsequent plans.

Scott pondered for a moment, then quickly made a decision: "But they really should be busier."

"02, take two people to the south side, find a good spot, throw something in there, and force those people out of the tower."

"03, continue to incite the protesters to confront each other and create some trouble for them."

"receive."

"Received." The reply from the earpiece was brief. Scott didn't say anything more and waited patiently.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the cordon on the east side began to loosen.

The sporadic disturbances are gradually escalating into a more destructive conflict.

Someone brought a Molotov cocktail that hit a police car.

Flames instantly engulfed the roof of the car, thick smoke billowed up, and a pungent, burnt smell filled the air.

The crowd was silent for less than half a second, and then, like a fuse being lit, it suddenly erupted into deafening cheers.

FNSP's formation began to crack, and they instinctively retreated, pressing their shields together and shrinking their ranks.

"Sir, we must—"

One soldier couldn't help but turn around and shout.

Before he could finish speaking, a brick hit his helmet.

The huge impact caused him to stagger back two steps, nearly falling over.

"You sons of bitches! Fascistas! Who are you protecting? Those corrupt politicians who fill their own pockets while we starve?! You bastard watchdogs!"

A series of angry curses rang out, attracting Scott's attention.

He was a middle-aged man wearing a red shirt, with bulging veins on his neck, a flushed face, and beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Put down your fucking shield! Look at my face! Look at me! Do you dare point a gun at your own people? At your brothers, at your mother?!"

As the standoff intensified, the soldiers' breathing became more rapid, and their eyes glazed over.

Scott stood behind, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

The time has come.

"04, Target confirmed, southwest side, 2 o'clock position, red-clothed target. Green light in 10. Execute clean."

Bruno's excited reply came through the earpiece: "Roger that, countdown ten, prepare to fire."

ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Scott began to move toward the edge of the square.

seven.

six.

five.

The man in red had completely lost control, gripping the soldier's shield tightly with both hands and pulling hard.

A small hole was torn in the defense line, and dozens of arms rushed out in an instant.

"Hold on! Don't let them break through!"

"They're in! Damn it, push up there!"

The commander roared hysterically, but to no avail.

Four.

three.

two.

One.

boom!
Gunshots rang out like thunder.

The man in red shuddered violently, his chest stained crimson with blood.

His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only let out a faint gasp.

Immediately, his knees buckled, and he fell backward, crashing heavily into the crowd.

The blood spread rapidly, soaking the broken bricks and stones.

"They fired!! They fired!!"

Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

Then, the heavens and earth shattered.

All the anger, fear, and pain merged into one at this moment, transforming into a storm that swept everything away.

The world is spinning.

Arms, fists, shattered flags, and fluttering banners were torn into rags.

Running, falling, tumbling, crashing—the crushed bones filled the somber melody.

Screams and roars were swallowed up by the surging impact, turning into a chaotic torrent that crushed and devoured everything.

　[1] Federal Public Security Forces (Fora Nacional de Segurana Pública)
　　
　
(End of this chapter)