You went on a blind date and presented an A-level wanted criminal as a meeting gift?

The moment twenty pistols fired simultaneously, the whole world seemed to be slowed down.

Lin Chen's lips curled into an extremely cold smile.

[Physical fitness doubled!]

[God-level Firearms Mastery]!

boom!

A violent force exploded through his limbs and bones, and the sound of blood rushing out was like thunder!

His neural reaction speed broke through the physiological limits of humans at this moment!

Time, in his perception, was stretched infinitely.

He could clearly see the twisting ripples left in the air by each spinning bullet as it left the barrel.

He could see the ferocious expressions on the faces of the bodyguards opposite him, and the nascent astonishment deep in their pupils.

All of this happened as slowly as a poorly made silent film.

He was the only dancer in this murderous spectacle.

Just moments before the dense barrage of bullets was about to tear him apart.

Lin Chen moved.

His body slid to the left at an unbelievable angle, and with the power of his waist and abdomen, he twisted strangely amidst the hail of bullets, as if he had no bones.

call out!call out!call out!

Countless scorching bullets flew past him, almost grazing the hem of his clothes and the tips of his hair, and burst into dense sparks and debris on the marble wall behind him!

at the same time.

Lin Chen's hands flashed to his waist, and two specially modified Glock 18s quietly slipped into his palms.

Without the slightest pause.

Gunfire, spitting fire!

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Two crisp yet deadly gunshots, seemingly insignificant amidst the frenzied roar of twenty pistols, yet clearly pierced everyone's eardrums.

On the far left, a bearded bodyguard who had just pulled the trigger suddenly had a burst of blood erupt between his eyebrows.

The sneer on his face froze instantly, and his body fell straight backward.

On the far right, a tall, thin bodyguard tries to flank him; in the same spot, with the same bloody hole.

Before he even understood what had happened, the light in his eyes quickly dimmed.

One shot, one kill.

Lin Chen's movements were completely devoid of any human touch.

It was as if he wasn't killing someone, but rather conducting a highly precise proofreading.

His body weaved through the dense hail of bullets, each step landing precisely avoiding all the fatal trajectories.

That wasn't dodging.

That was a prediction!

It's a ballet of death, a fusion of the combat instincts brought by [Grandmaster-level Combat Mastery] and the absolute control over ballistics by [God-level Gun Mastery]!

The twenty elite bodyguards opposite him looked like lambs called by the Grim Reaper.

Their gunfire became the drumbeats accompanying Lin Chen.

Their bullets became the backdrop for Lin Chen's dance moves.

They watched helplessly as that ghostly figure strolled leisurely through the web of death they had woven.

Then, using two pistols, they called out names one by one with an appalling calmness.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

The gunshots were rhythmic, and with each one, a body inevitably fell to the ground.

Not a single bullet missed its mark.

Not a single shot hit anywhere other than the center of the forehead.

Inside the hall, the battle-hardened bodyguards completely broke down!

They weren't facing people at all!

They are harvesters who crawled out of hell wearing human skin!

Fear spread like a plague.

Some people's hands began to tremble, and the bullets were fired aimlessly.

Someone wanted to change the magazine, but found that their fingers were no longer obeying their commands.

Some people turned to run away, but as soon as they took a step, a bullet pierced the back of their heads.

Thirty seconds.

It felt like an eternity.

When Lin Chen emptied the last magazine, the gunfire suddenly stopped.

He casually tossed the two scorching hot pistols to the ground, making a crisp "clang" sound.

This sound became the only noise in the hall.

Dead silence.

A deathly silence so profound you could hear a pin drop.

Twenty fully armed bodyguards were now lying on the cold ground.

Crimson blood gushed from the bullet holes between their brows, pooling into streams that stained the precious handmade carpets.

The strong smell of gunpowder and blood mingled together, creating a nauseating odor.

The entire luxurious hall had been transformed into a battlefield.

Lin Chen stood in the center of this mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood.

He was completely unharmed.

Not even the hem of her clothes was torn.

At the far end of the hall, Zhao Tailong and the "director" stood frozen in place like two petrified statues.

Their legs trembled violently, and their faces were completely drained of color.

A warm liquid flowed down their trouser legs, forming a small, foul-smelling puddle at their feet.

They were so scared they wet themselves.

"what……"

The "director" let out a hissing sound that sounded inhuman. He suddenly came to his senses, and a crazy determination flashed across his face.

He trembled as he tried to raise the silver Desert Eagle in his hand.

However, Lin Chen didn't even look at him directly.

He simply picked up a P226 with a few bullets left from the hand of a dead bodyguard on the ground.

Raise your hand.

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out.

"ah--!!!"

The director's right wrist instantly exploded into a cloud of blood mist!

Bones and bits of meat flew everywhere!

The heavy Desert Eagle flew out of his hand and landed on the ground with a dull thud.

A piercing scream shattered the deathly silence, echoing throughout the empty hall.

Lin Chen blew away the smoke from the muzzle of the gun and casually tossed it aside.

He strode forward, stepping over the blood and bullet casings scattered on the ground, walking step by step toward Zhao Tailong, who had completely collapsed.

"tread."

"tread."

"tread."

Every step felt like stepping on Zhao Tailong's heart.

Zhao Tailong could no longer hold on and collapsed onto the leather sofa behind him, his obese body shaking like he had Parkinson's disease.

Lin Chen walked up to him, looking down at him with indifferent eyes, as if he were looking at an ant.

"Is this your trump card?"

His voice was soft, yet it carried a chilling intensity capable of freezing the soul.

"Too weak."

These three words were like three heavy hammer blows, completely shattering Zhao Tailong's last psychological defense.

But his survival instinct kept him going, and he let out a roar that sounded fierce but was actually weak.

"Lin Chen! You...you're trespassing! This is massacre!"

"I'm a major taxpayer! I'm a philanthropist in Jiangcheng! I'm going to sue you! I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail!!"

Upon hearing this, Lin Chen scoffed.

The laughter was filled with undisguised contempt and mockery, as if one had heard the funniest joke in the world.

He didn't even glance at Zhao Tailong; his gaze fell on the bottle of Romanée-Conti worth hundreds of thousands of yuan on the wine cabinet next to him.

He walked over and gracefully picked up the bottle.

Under Zhao Tailong's horrified gaze, he unscrewed the bottle stopper.

Then, he walked up to Zhao Tailong and slowly poured the deep red, expensive wine over his thinning bald head.

Splash...

The alcohol mixed with cold sweat streamed down Zhao Tailong's greasy face, making him look as pathetic as a drowned dog.

"A major taxpayer?"

Lin Chen's voice carried a hint of mockery.

He tossed aside the empty bottle, leaned down, and whispered in Zhao Tailong's ear in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Check your phone."