Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

Inside the bar, those who had been watching the commotion earlier all stood up.

Some people were taking out their car keys, while others were checking their magazines.

Some people opened a map and calculated how far they were from the stadium.

Outside the stadium, the first wave of madmen had already begun to act.

A rooftop of an office building.

Vera left her motorcycle downstairs and lay prone on the edge with her sniper rifle slung over her shoulder.

She didn't rush onto the field.

She fired the first shot.

In the distance, the antenna of a communications vehicle snapped off.

She took a picture and uploaded it.

A few seconds later, the phone vibrated.

The notification light for the funds arriving has appeared.

Vera put away her phone, her eyes remaining calm.

"The money really arrived in my account, the system is real. So, the five billion is real too."

She did not continue firing, but continued to observe...

Another side road.

A bulletproof SUV came to an abrupt stop next to a National Guard armored vehicle.

Four professional mercenaries jumped out of the car.

Driving alone.

One person is shooting.

One person is responsible for filming.

The captain stared intently at the bounty page.

The team members in the back row carried an RPG-7 that they had bought on the black market.

The orange-red tail flame tore through the night.

The rocket hit the lead BearCat armored vehicle.

boom!

The explosion shattered all the car windows nearby.

The armored vehicle slid sideways for several meters, its doors deformed and its tires caught fire.

The person in charge of filming immediately uploaded the video.

The notification sounded that the money had been credited to the account.

The captain patted the roof of the car and shouted excitedly.

"Fire! Brothers! For the five billion bounty!"

The street corner not far away.

More than a dozen motorcycles rushed out of the darkness and circled the police car at high speed.

Someone threw grenades, someone fired at the police drone, and someone else was specifically responsible for filming.

Two police cars were destroyed in the explosion.

Upload the video and receive your reward.

The motorcycle gang members became increasingly excited as they watched, and charged straight towards the second roadblock.

On a distant hillside, a retired army sniper lies prone in the grass.

He doesn't go near the field.

One shot, one searchlight; one shot, one drone.

The police's outer perimeter positions were gradually plunged into darkness, while notifications of account arrivals rang incessantly.

The outer defense line began to collapse, tracer bullets flew wildly in the night sky, and burning armored vehicles illuminated the crowd.

The live stream on the phone was shaking violently, with screams and gunshots mixed together.

The Los Angeles Police Department's roadblocks were broken through.

The county police patrol cars were blocked.

National Guard Humvees were surrounded by a crowd.

The outer ring commander gripped the walkie-talkie, his voice hoarse.

"Outer perimeter is gone!"

"The inner ring is still in place!"

"We need more National Guard troops! Now!"

Inside the state emergency command center, Alan Gray had no interest in listening to the calls for help from outside the city.

He was staring intently at the live stream.

Whitman and Coleman not only survived, but also exposed the crimes of many Black House officials.

The countdown on the screen showed only nineteen minutes remaining.

The inner ring commander picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Acting Governor, we can continue the suppressive fire."

Allen immediately lowered his voice.

"What was just now could be called a firefight, but now the whole of America sees them alive. Continuing to fire is tantamount to a public execution; it will let everyone know we are killing people. Send in ground troops and disguise the operation as a rescue."

The commander remained silent for two seconds.

"The HRT does not carry out indiscriminate killing; their orders are to rescue hostages."

Allen looked at the encrypted screen next to him.

The White House has just issued a new directive.

An unnumbered black team has arrived in the inner ring.

To the outside world, they were FBI hostage rescue team reinforcements.

There is only one actual command.

Eliminate all survivors inside the club!

Allen spoke slowly.

"Leave the regular HRT on the outside and let the people from the Black Palace in. Have the official channels announce that this is a tactical rescue."

In the federal encrypted channel, the Black Ops commander received orders.

"Go in. Clean it up."

Inside the wine cellar, Naga peered out through bullet holes in the wall.

Through the smoke, several fully armed squads were rapidly approaching.

They did not charge blindly.

Smoke grenades cleared the way, flashbangs were prepared, and snipers provided cover; all actions were highly professional.

Naga immediately turned around.

"Boss, they're charging in. At least three teams of fully armed men, and they're moving very fast."

Whitman and Coleman both looked outside.

The burgeoning desire for revenge in the two men was quickly suppressed by fear.

Chen Mo looked at them, his voice calm.

"You should know better than I do. They're not going to waste any more ammunition. The next people to come in will smash the camera lens first, then smash your heads."

Coleman's lips were pale.

Whitman's hands trembled even more violently.

Naga glanced outside.

"Boss, we could actually just fight our way out."

Chen Mo inspects the ammunition belt.

"They haven't finished speaking yet."

Upon hearing this, both the ghost and the Naga understood.

Chen Mo is not unable to leave.

He wanted these two people to spill all the dirty secrets they knew.

The ghost shoved the laptop into the angle formed by the marble bar, the metal wine rack, and the load-bearing column.

He then pushed two metal boxes filled with ammunition to the front.

This way, even if a bullet penetrates the wall, the live streaming equipment can last a little longer.

The ghost checked the screen once.

"Boss, the signal is stable."

Chen Mo stood up.

"Give me two M240Bs, and enough ammunition belts."

Naga grinned.

"They're finally going to get serious, boss."

The two men dragged two M240B machine guns out of their equipment bags and brought over four boxes of ammunition belts.

The ghost linked the ammunition belts together.

Naga draped two bullet chains across Chen Mo's body.

Chen Mo held a machine gun in his left hand and a machine gun in his right hand.

The heavy gun in his hands was like two recoilless rifles.

Whitman watched this scene and spoke instinctively.

"You really want to hold them off by yourself?"

Chen Mo looked at him.

"Ghosts, today I'll show you a little of my power."

The ghost and the Naga exchanged a glance, and the corners of their mouths turned up.

"It would be my great honor!"

Naga held the machine gun and guarded the doorway.

Chen Mo carried two machine guns and walked out of the wine cellar.

The clubhouse lobby has been reduced to ruins and is filled with smoke.

Broken glass covered the ground.

Water was still dripping from the steel bars overhead.

The bounty countdown has only eleven minutes left.

The first black ops team sneaked in from behind the broken wall.

They were wearing FBI hostage rescue team gear.

They had no number or identification on them.

Only a unified encrypted communication channel.

The formation is very professional.

Two people looked at the front, and two people looked at the side.

The last person locked onto the entrance to the wine cellar.

One of the team members raised his hand, ready to throw a flashbang.

Chen Mo fired first.

Bang bang bang!

The bullet detonated the flashbang mid-air, and a burst of white light exploded in mid-air.

The formation of the assault squad was instantly thrown into disarray.

Chen Mo raised both hands at the same time.

Two M240Bs roared together, their muzzle flashes illuminating the smoke.

His mastery of firearms was fully unleashed, each burst of fire appearing as if the angle had been calculated in advance.

The recoil was easily suppressed by his violent strength.

The scalding hot cartridge cases fell at my feet like water.

The two gun barrels gradually turned red.