I Bet There Are No Bullets in Your Gun

The night wind carried the scent of gunpowder.

Flames soared into the sky in the eastern section of the shipyard, and explosions rang out one after another.

Ling Ling'er, who wasn't wearing a top hat, stood in the shadows, gazing into the distance.

This little pork cutlet was supposed to draw the fire from the front, but it's made such a commotion.

But that's fine too; the more chaotic it is, the more flaws will be revealed.

A large number of security personnel were rushing towards Xiao Qi, leaving the headquarters building of Silver Peak Biopharmaceuticals as an undefended empty shell.

Go through the main entrance?

That's something a brute would do.

Ling Ling'er's figure swayed, and she fell to the ground like a black leaf.

He reached into the ventilation shaft at the back of the building and pulled out a wire.

With a click, the electronic lock was opened.

He slipped inside and followed the pipe downwards.

They listened intently to the subtle sounds coming from every floor of the building.

Ling Ling'er descended along the pipeline and landed silently in the outer passage leading to the underground base.

There were three armed guards left behind in front.

They were holding guns, nervously watching the surveillance screen at the end of the corridor.

"Damn it, how many people are coming from the east? A whole regiment?" "Whatever, just don't let them get here..."

They were completely unaware that a killing god had appeared behind them.

Ling Ling'er didn't even bother to slow down or hide herself.

The guards turned around upon hearing the commotion.

"What..."

Before he could finish speaking...

Ling Ling'er pushed off with her feet, leaping out like Black Panther.

Too slow.

In Ling Ling'er's abnormal dynamic vision, the way these three people drew their guns looked like they were doing elderly people's calisthenics.

With the butt of the rifle not yet against his shoulder and the safety not yet engaged, what's the difference between this and suicide?

He reached out with his left hand, grabbed the barrel of the foremost guard's gun, and twisted it.

"Snap!"

The guard, along with his gun, was thrown to the ground.

He seized the submachine gun and smashed it into the throat of the second guard.

The third guard finally pointed his gun at Ling Ling'er.

Ling Ling'er didn't even turn her head. With a flick of her right hand, she threw a flying knife, which transformed into a cold glint that pierced through her throat.

Ling Ling'er stepped over the corpse on the ground, her face expressionless.

In his eyes, the positioning and reaction speed of this group of security guards were full of flaws.

Level B1, underground logistics and equipment area.

Several vans were parked here, and a special security team of six people was guarding the gate leading to the deeper part of the building.

The team leader was yelling into his headset, "What's going on on the ground! Guard the entrance, don't let anyone in..."

He stopped talking and stared ahead in astonishment.

Under the cool white light.

A tall man wearing a black trench coat was standing there.

When!

Masaka!

It's over 30 meters from here to the entrance of the passage, how come I only noticed this thing when it was already within 10 meters of me!

"Stop!" the captain roared, and six pulse energy guns locked onto Ling Ling'er.

But he didn't care at all.

"The safety on your guns isn't fully engaged."

The six security guards were taken aback and subconsciously glanced down at the guns in their hands.

Just that one moment of distraction!

Ling Ling'er shoved herself into the crowd.

A side kick, heavy as a ton of bricks, sent the captain flying five or six meters, killing him instantly.

He became a ghost walking on the edge of a knife, weaving through dense gun barrels.

Each sidestep and slide was executed with pinpoint accuracy, placing the target precisely in a blind spot for the enemy's fire.

Click! Click!

He snapped both of their wrists, and before they could even scream, he used the force of their blows to grab them by the collars and slam them together.

The remaining two finally reacted, but they couldn't keep up with Ling Ling'er's movements at all. By the time they aimed at him, they found that he had already slid to their side.

He grabbed the two men by the back of their necks and slammed them to the ground.

In less than five seconds, the entire six-man squad was reduced to a pile of mud on the ground.

Ling Ling'er patted the dust off her trench coat.

Extremely vulnerable.

He walked to the fingerprint gate, picked up the captain's already dead hand, and pressed it onto the scanner.

"Beep! Verification successful."

The gate slid open to both sides.

Ling Ling'er stepped into Level B2, the gene research area.

The temperature here is very low, and there's a smell of preservatives and formaldehyde.

The vast space was filled with rows of culture chambers.

Floating inside were all sorts of deformed clones, some with only incomplete organs remaining, and some even resembling children.

The screen on the wall was displaying Mutants genetic data rapidly.

Ling Ling'er stopped in her tracks.

These beasts in white coats deserve to go to hell.

Leave no one alive.

This is the rule he set for today's operation.

He pulled out a miniature high-precision camera that Wenxi had made for him from his inner pocket and pressed the shutter button repeatedly on the culture chambers and data terminals.

"Bang!"

A faint whistling sound could be heard in the air.

A slight sense of danger tingled in Ling Ling'er's nerves.

There are bullets at the 10 o'clock position!

He could have easily dodged it, but he didn't move.

Because the bullet wasn't aimed at him.

"Smack!"

The camera in Ling Ling'er's hand was hit precisely by a bullet and blown to pieces.

He turned his head and looked towards the passageway at ten o'clock.

There stood a man with a blank expression.

David North, Agent Zero.

He held a pistol in one hand, the dark barrel pointed at Ling Ling'er's forehead.

"Agent, your infiltration game is over."

Facing the dark muzzle of the gun, Ling Ling'er smiled and casually tossed aside the parts in her hand.

Agent Zero frowned. Was this guy a madman?

With a gun pointed at his head, how can he remain so calm?

How can someone like you be changed?

Agent Zero froze, his index finger on the trigger instinctively loosening. What the hell was this question?

Before he could react, Ling Ling'er calmly answered her own question, "You will never change. Your fate is death."

"Playing tricks!" A savage glint flashed in Agent Zero's eyes.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Ling Ling'er strode forward toward the dark muzzle of the gun.

I bet your gun is empty.

"???"

Agent Zero almost didn't catch on.

I just blew up your camera, the gun is still smoking!

You're telling me the gun's empty?!

A sense of absurdity and anger at being slighted welled up inside him, and Agent Zero pulled the trigger without hesitation.

He wants to see this pretentious show-off's brains splattered everywhere!

Click.

A sharp, piercing sound of the firing pin striking the empty air was particularly jarring.

How could this be!

He pulled the trigger repeatedly.

"Click! Click! Click!"

The continuous hollow sounds made Agent Zero take a step back.

It's a ghost!

This gun was loaded with fifteen Damascus armor-piercing rounds, but he clearly only fired one shot. Where did the rest of the bullets go?!

Could this person be a top-tier Mutants?!

Space transfer?

Matter Oblivion?

Or is it a large-scale hallucination caused by mental illness?

Ling Ling'er stopped two steps away from Agent Zero and looked at him.

His face remained expressionless; everything before him was under his control.

Agent Zero eyelids trembling like windshield wipers, was somewhat disoriented and instinctively raised his gun and fired a shot above his head.

"Bang!"

A hole was punched in the ceiling.

Isn't everything fine?

He then aimed at the man in the black trench coat in front of him, pulled the trigger, but there was no response.

"Who... who are you?!"

"My name is Yan Shuangying."

The third strange tale of rules:

When you pointed a gun at Yan Shuangying's head, there were no bullets in your gun.

Yan Shuangying