The Walking Dead: Starting as a Cowboy

Seeing this, O'Donnell was extremely excited, feeling like a medieval king with everyone as his subjects.

I can do whatever I want, and no one can go against me.

Desire swelled in his chest, his face flushed, and he was in a state of excitement.

bang——

A grenade shattered the glass window, and he entered the hospital.

In an instant, the high-temperature, high-pressure gas expanded thousands of times and exploded.

At the center of the explosion, an extremely bright and dazzling white fireball formed, and after the flash, an invisible shockwave rippled outwards.

Shrapnel and steel balls tore through the air with a whistling, deadly sound.

Screams, cries of terror, and curses filled the air.

Lying on the ground, O'Donnell was in a daze. He leaned against the wall and slowly stood up. The tinnitus made him unable to hear any sound, and the world swayed before his eyes.

He dragged his feet, trying to take a few steps forward, but his concussion-stricken brain couldn't give the right instructions.

He could only lean against the wall, looking around in a daze.

Gorman collapsed to the ground, letting out a high-pitched scream like a pig being slaughtered. He had a large gash in his lumbar spine, and blood was gushing out like a burst dam.

"Ah, ah, ah!"

"Where are my legs? Where are my legs? I can't feel my legs anymore!"

As the pain gradually subsided, Gorman suddenly realized he couldn't feel his legs. He screamed repeatedly, trying to pry them open with his hands. He could touch them, but he couldn't feel anything in his legs.

Gorman's lollipop lay to one side, submerged in blood like Gorman himself. Gorman's screams grew fainter and fainter, his eyes wide open, and he stopped breathing.

Many of his surviving men approached O'Donnell in a panic.

O'Donnell is their leader, and at this moment, he is their backbone.

"Boss, it must be the group that killed the convoy who are attacking us."

"How about we surrender?"

His voice trembled uncontrollably; the person speaking was terrified.

The others weren't much better off; they stared at one spot without blinking, their minds somewhat dazed.

I thought at most it would be a gunfight between the two sides, and that they would be in a relatively balanced combat situation.

But the current situation is that before they even fired a shot, the other side immediately started shelling.

The smell of gunpowder, like that of a battlefield, terrified them.

Surrender is their preferred option at this moment.

O'Donnell's reason began to take over his mind. He reached down, pulled out a sharp dagger, and without hesitation, plunged it into the neck of the henchman who had spoken.

The sharp blade pierced flesh, and blood gushed out like a fountain, staining O'Donnell's entire body red. He snarled, "Disrupting morale? Die!"

O'Donnell's ruthless gaze caused every one of his subordinates who met his eyes to lower their heads.

"We haven't lost yet. They have guns and cannons, we have buildings. Since we don't have enough firepower, we'll fight them in street battles."

O'Donnell's head and face were also covered in blood. He raised his head and said, "We've been cops for so many years, we should have plenty of experience killing people, right?"

Yes, if we can't outgun each other with firepower, then we'll outgun each other with experience.

In their "peaceful times," free countries are rife with gunfights every day. With these unique advantages, their combat capabilities are truly remarkable.

Because the bad ones are basically all dead.

This is their time for revenge.

The bewilderment in the eyes of the surviving henchmen gradually disappeared, replaced by ferocity, hatred, and a thirst for revenge.

Seeing the change in his subordinates' morale, O'Donnell nodded to himself.

If morale still doesn't improve, O'Donnell is prepared to surrender.

He couldn't possibly take action against all his subordinates who were unwilling to fight, could he? If his subordinates pushed him too far, he would be the first one killed, and he could use him as a token of loyalty.

O'Donnell didn't go to Guan En; he knew that faced with such heavy firepower, she was probably already prepared to bury her head in the sand.

"Walk!"

O'Donnell raised his gun and roared, his men echoing him, their demeanor menacing.

……

The tightly closed door collapsed with a roar under the impact of the explosives, kicking up a cloud of dust.

A cold, white beam of light pierced the dimly lit hall, followed by crisp footsteps and the sound of steel guns striking armor.

O'Donnell hid behind a wall, licking his dry lips. He had a gun in his hand, but he was very nervous.

Swallowing hard, O'Donnell called out, "Brother, what brings you to our hospital?"

Are you lacking anything? Medicine, food?

"If you want it, just tell me the price, and I'll send it to you directly. There's no need to make a fuss."

After saying that, O'Donnell waited for a reply from the other side.

Unexpectedly, O'Donnell was met with a barrage of bullets.

The whistling sound of bullets piercing the air shattered the outer layer of the wall, and the fragments hit O'Donnell, causing him sharp pain.

The anger in my heart was also burning fiercely.

Fuck, you won't listen to reason, so you'll have to suffer the consequences.

"Beat them!"

When the gunfire stopped, O'Donnell roared and stretched out his right hand to fire wildly forward.

Reality is not a game; there is no such thing as probing or testing the waters. It only requires caution, caution, and more caution.

At close range, there's absolutely no reason to conserve ammunition; firing indiscriminately can repel enemies or rely on ricochets for attacks.

O'Donnell was a very capable military man, having set up three lines of fire to create crossfire, which was enough to deal with a large number of enemies in urban warfare.

Moreover, the position from which the gun is positioned makes it very difficult to hit from the angle from which the enemy fires.

As long as we can kill more enemies and hold out for a while longer, we will have the leverage to negotiate with the other side.

We might even be able to extort a lot of supplies from them.

An excitement flashed in O'Donnell's eyes, and he fired with even more force, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Brothers, don't be afraid, they can't beat us!"

The gun positions kept firing bullets, but the enemy showed no sign of advancing.

A few minutes later, O'Donnell felt uneasy.

Why don't they attack?

The next second, his question was answered.

bang——

A wall not far away exploded violently, the bricks that made up the wall shattered instantly, turning into deadly weapons that buried the gun positions hidden behind the wall.

Those men lay prone in the dust, their fate unknown.

Amidst the rising dust, warriors, their bodies gleaming with murderous intent, slowly emerged from the broken wall, their paint jobs black and their steel guns cold and menacing.

O'Donnell stared at the dark muzzle of the gun, his pupils contracting, and dove to the side. "Get out of the way!"

He had just leaped behind a scaffold when he saw his men, who had been standing still, being torn apart by bullets.

The severed arm rolled not far away, and puffs of blood mist rose as they collapsed to the ground.

O'Donnell's eyes widened in panic.

He was not afraid of the deaths of his men; he was afraid of his own impending death.

The bullets flew through the air at high speed, and the people at the three firing positions died quickly.