Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Ironhead lay on the ground, bullets flying over his head, whistling like ghosts wailing.

He pressed his face to the floor, his finger on the trigger, and fired a burst of bullets toward the door.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—In the darkness, you can't see your target clearly, so you can only rely on your senses and memories.

He remembered the location of the doorway, the width of the door frame, and the direction from which those people rushed in.

The gap-toothed boy hid behind the bar.

The bullet hit the bar, sending wood chips flying, bottles shattering, liquor spilling all over the floor, and the air filled with the pungent smell of alcohol.

He tucked the knife back into his waistband, pulled a submachine gun from under the bar, and fired a burst towards the doorway.

Mudfish crouched in the corner, not firing a shot—his gun had no silencer, and firing it would reveal his position.

He simply huddled in the darkness, his eyes gleaming like a mouse's, waiting for those people to approach, waiting for their attention to be drawn to Iron Head and Gap Tooth, before making his move.

Outside the Golden Princess.

Gunshots rang out from inside the Golden Princess building, so dense they sounded like popping beans, echoing through the quiet streets in the early morning.

Amin squatted at the alley entrance, listening to the gunshots, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

It got stuck.

He picked up his MP5 submachine gun and rushed out of the alley.

The twenty-nine people behind him followed him like a swarm of wasps whose nest had been disturbed, pouring out simultaneously from the alley entrance, the alley end, and the back door of Princess Jin.

He rushed up the steps, raised his submachine gun, and fired a burst into the Golden Princess.

The bullet pierced through the iron gate, hit the wall, hit the floor, and hit the ceiling.

The iron gate was riddled with bullet holes, letting in light through.

Amin paused at the door.

so easy.

He's been in this line of work for over a decade, from Vietnam to Cambodia, from Myanmar to Laos. He's killed more people than the average bodyguard has ever seen, and he's never thought killing someone is an easy thing.

But tonight was too easy—rush in, shoot, kill.

Like killing a chicken, like butchering a fish.

so easy.

He hesitated for a second.

Just a second later, a soft buzzing sound came from my feet, and the indicator light flashed.

Sensor mines.

He looked down and saw that damned black discus pressing under his shoe, the indicator light flashing red in the darkness.

His pupils contracted sharply; he tried to run, but it was too late.

Boom—the landmine exploded beneath his feet.

Flames surged out from the entrance of Princess Golden, and waves of heat, carrying iron nails and pebbles, swept in all directions.

Amin was thrown into the air like a tattered sack caught in a gale. His body tumbled in the air before crashing to the ground several meters away, face down. His back was torn open by shrapnel, leaving it a bloody mess.

The black T-shirt looked as if it had been cut open with scissors, revealing the charred flesh underneath.

The MP5 submachine gun fell a few steps away, its barrel bent, magazine flying out, and spent cartridges scattered all over the ground.

Several of the twenty-nine people behind them also fell—those at the front were blown up by landmines, some lay motionless on the ground, others clutched their severed limbs and screamed in agony, their cries echoing mournfully in the night sky.

The people behind them lay prone on the ground, too afraid to move.

We don't know how many landmines are left, or where they are buried.

Inside the Golden Princess, Chen Feng rushes down from the third floor.

Tactical jacket and vest, pistol tucked into his waistband, submachine gun slung over his shoulder, magazines stuffed in his pockets.

The night vision goggles were hanging on the helmet, but flipping them up was useless; the dagger was stuck in the boot.

The bulletproof plates I redeemed from the system were inserted into my tactical vest. They were heavy, but when I ran, it felt like I wasn't wearing any at all.

The skinny monkey followed behind him, his hands in his pockets, his waist bulging.

Chen Feng stood at the top of the stairs on the second floor, with the lobby on the first floor in front of him.

With the night vision goggles down, the world turned green.

Iron Head and Gap Tooth were lying on the ground. Iron Head was hiding behind the overturned sofa, Gap Tooth was hiding behind the bar, and Mud Loach was huddled in the corner—the outlines of the group were clearly visible in the green landscape.

Several corpses lay at the entrance—killed by landmines, lying haphazardly, their blood appearing black against the green backdrop, like spilled ink.

Chen Feng rushed down the stairs.

Holding a submachine gun, he ran and fired, rat-a-tat-tat-tat—bullets shot out from the doorway, hitting the wall, the ground, and the door frame.

Cement fragments flew everywhere, and dust rose up.

Several people were lying face down at the entrance, their heads pinned down by bullets.

Chen Feng rushed to the front gate, stood on the steps, and swept a burst of bullets outwards.

The person crouching at the bottom of the steps fell down, with two bullet holes in his chest, blood gushing out and soaking his entire camouflage uniform.

The remaining people began to fight back.

Bullets flew in from different directions, hitting Chen Feng's body—chest, shoulders, arms, thud, thud, thud, like raindrops hitting a piece of metal.

The bulletproof plate blocked it, but the impact still made him take a step back.

Stabilize the fire, continue firing.

Skinny Monkey rushed down the stairs, hid behind the door frame, and fired a burst of bullets outside.

Tie Tou stood up from behind the sofa, leaned against the wall, and swept a burst of bullets toward the door.

The man with the gap-toothed man stood up from behind the bar, rested his submachine gun on the bar, and fired a burst towards the door.

Four men, four guns, four directions, completely blocking off the area near the entrance.

Bullets rained down like a storm, and those lying on the ground, hiding behind cars, or huddled in corners fell one after another.

Three minutes, less than five minutes—the gunfire stopped.

The area in front of Princess Golden was in a mess.

Bullet holes were everywhere, the wall plaster was peeling off, cement fragments were scattered all over the ground, the craters from the landmines were still smoking, and the air was filled with the mixed smell of gunpowder and blood.

Amin lay on the ground, his face buried in a pool of blood. Blood was still gushing from the gash on his back, torn open by shrapnel, dripping down his charred flesh and onto the ground.

He wasn't dead yet; his fingers twitched, and his legs twitched, like a frog struggling in vain with its back stepped on.

Chen Feng stood on the steps, looking down at the still convulsing body.

He slung the submachine gun over his shoulder, drew his pistol from his waist, screwed on the silencer, and delivered those words to him: "Don't come back in your next life."

Pulling the trigger produced a soft sound, barely audible on the quiet street, like a punctured whistle.

Amin twitched and then stopped moving.

Chen Feng tucked the gun back into his waistband, turned around, and walked back inside the Golden Princess.

Skinny Monkey is taking stock of the battlefield.

Outside the entrance of Princess Jin, more than twenty corpses lay scattered about, some wearing camouflage uniforms, some wearing black T-shirts, and some wearing flashy shirts.

Blood flowed on the concrete, gleaming a dark red under the streetlights.

Iron Head squatted down next to a corpse, picked up the man's submachine gun, weighed it in his hand, and slung it over his shoulder.

He then took out the magazine from his pocket and stuffed it into his own pocket.

The man with the gap-toothed man squatted next to another corpse, unfastening the man's tactical vest—a bulletproof vest, better than the one he was wearing now. He took it off, put it on himself, tightened the buckle, and it fit perfectly.

Mudfish crouched in the corner, clutching a knife that was still dripping blood—he had just stabbed two people.

Chen Feng walked into Golden Princess, went up to the first-floor stairwell, and stopped.

He turned around and looked at the skinny monkey.

The skinny monkey caught up.

Iron Head caught up, Gap Tooth caught up, and Mud Loach followed at the very back.

Not a single person is missing.

Several people sustained minor injuries, but none died.

Chen Feng's gaze swept across the four of them, he nodded, and then turned and went upstairs.