I Advise You To Be Rational

While thinking, Downton pulled out his submachine gun and kicked the door wide open.

As the door flew off its hinges, Downton caught sight of three Half-Dead wretches struggling to crawl on the floor.

Just as Downton finished off the trio with a few shots, a door connected to the lounge wall was being hurriedly closed, while in contrast, a trapdoor in the lounge floor began to rise.

Someone was pushing that trapdoor open!

As the gunman pushed the trapdoor aside, a good portion of his body emerged, and the moment he looked up, he locked eyes with Downton.

He abruptly stopped climbing, then raised his gun toward Downton while shouting.

"What the hell, stop pushing me, you bastards, I'm about to—"

Rat-tat-tat!!!

No wonder there were so many voices; this room really is connected to a dozen places!

After casually gunning down the unlucky bastard blocking the trapdoor, Downton suddenly noticed that as the man's body slumped into the underground passage, two grenades were tossed out from the tunnel.

Downton hurriedly prepared to turn and flee, but before he could even pivot, the grenades, timed perfectly to the explosion, plastered him right in the face.

He felt as though his eyelashes were about to be singed off, but the eyelashes weren't the point; the point was the damn shrapnel.

Once those fragments that forced him to retreat embedded themselves into his body, he felt as if he were falling apart.

He glanced down to see countless beads of blood seeping out from several holes in his suit.

"Damn it... that hurts like hell!"

The pain made Downton grit his teeth and laugh; shrapnel was truly far more painful than bullets.

Grinning with blood-stained teeth, Downton pushed through the agony and trudged toward the trapdoor.

The next moment, a hand reached out from the trapdoor, and the pistol it held fired wildly in Downton's direction.

Another bullet slammed into Downton's calf. As he collapsed, he threw his backpack to prevent the trapdoor from closing, then fished a grenade out of the bag and tossed it into the opening.

BOOM!

An explosion erupted from beneath the floor, the sound masking the noise of another door in the lounge swinging open.

Five or six gunmen seized the opportunity to rush into the lounge all at once, opening fire directly on Downton.

Thwip!

Squelch!

As Downton took more than one hit, he struggled to push the trapdoor completely open.

Grabbing the edge of the hatch, he hauled himself into the underground passage and tumbled into the depths, pulled by gravity.

Thud!

"Urgh!"

The pain of the landing forced a roar from the wounded Downton.

Not far away in the underground, the gunmen who had already found cover saw Downton's state, and their morale surged instantly.

"He's finished!"

"Take him down!"

"Why is there only one of them?"

"The boss is screaming over the radio, kill him already!"

Cursing, the Russian gunmen focused their fire on Downton.

Enduring the barrage, Downton pulled his submachine gun from his bag and emptied the entire magazine.

He didn't know if he'd hit anyone, but that didn't matter anymore.

A moment later, Downton emerged with his submachine gun into a spacious hall.

The instant he appeared, he immediately drew gasps from countless people.

"Ahhh!"

"It's the robber!"

"When did he get here?"

"Are the security guards useless? Take him down!"

"Watch out, he has a gun!"

Amidst the chorus of screams, Downton rolled his eyes at the few security guards rushing toward him.

"My bad, pal, I ended up in Gotham Bank."

Before he could even finish his sentence, a hail of bullets slammed into Downton's chest, and a flash of fire ignited within Gotham Bank.

A moment later.

"Hah."

Downton took a heavy breath, then scanned his surroundings with vigilance.

Good, this time it didn't randomize to a bank; instead, I landed in the backseat of a car.

So, can anyone explain what is going on with the bald guy sitting next to me?

Before Downton could even think, his instincts had him jamming his submachine gun into the bald man's chest.

At the same time, the bald man's pistol was pressed firmly against Downton's head.

Feeling the cold bite of the muzzle, Downton couldn't help but laugh.

"What a coincidence, Victor Zsasz. I'll be damned if I didn't land right in your car!"

As he said this, Downton glanced out the window. Although he didn't know the roads of Gotham, he recognized several tall buildings he had just seen earlier.

"Oh, even better—are you guys heading to the Dimitrov Family's turf too? Sorry, I've already had a run-around there. Their gunmen are incredibly hospitable, haha."

Downton laughed as he pulled back his gun, then slung an arm around Victor Zsasz's shoulder like an old friend.

Being grabbed like that made Victor's face twitch, but in the end, he didn't pull the trigger on Downton's head.

As a veteran associate of Falcone, Victor was bloodthirsty, but he was even more obedient to Falcone's wishes.

He knew full well that Falcone wanted to maintain a good relationship with Downton, so he forced himself to suppress the urge to fire and holstered his pistol back into the rig under his arm.

"Downton, stop pretending this is some kind of accident. You came here specifically to warn me! What kind of accident lets you coincidentally appear in my car? You're clearly here to tell me not to compete with you for Yuri Dimitrov!"

With that, Victor tapped the back of the driver's seat, and the driver immediately pulled the car over.

Victor then pointed at the bewildered gunman sitting to Downton's right and ordered, "Get in another car. Let me catch up with Downton."

The lackey naturally didn't dare defy Zsasz's orders; he immediately opened the door and scrambled out, leaving the backseat to Zsasz and Downton.

Downton scooted a bit further away from Zsasz and patted Victor on the arm. "Much obliged, pal. Though I wouldn't have minded three in the back, it would have been a bit tight."

"Cut the crap. Tell me your plan—don't tell me you just came here to mess with me!" Victor swatted Downton's hand away and glared at him viciously.

Meeting Victor's gaze, Downton chuckled as he opened his backpack to reload his submachine gun. "I told you, it's all just a coincidence. I'm not interested in your operation. Well, maybe a little. I don't care about the Dimitrov territory, but I want to take his head with my own hands!"

"Is that why you specifically came to find me?" Victor interrupted, casting a strange look at Downton's gun before continuing, "And you, you son of a bitch, you actually threatened me with an empty gun!"

"That's because I can't bear to see you die, Victor Zsasz." Downton said, speaking to him with exaggerated flair. "You know, before I went to the Dimitrov Family, I specifically talked to Liv about you. In my eyes, you're the guy in all of Gotham most worth admiring. If you don't believe me, go ask Liv; she might even have a secret recording of me praising you. Anyway, the reason I threatened you with an empty gun is that I was afraid of a misfire blowing your brains out. Falcone will get old eventually, but I'm still very young. I want you to live to see Falcone's decline, and then make your choice: whether or not to follow me, Zsasz!"

As his voice trailed off, Downton slammed the loaded magazine into his submachine gun and deftly racked the slide.

He turned the muzzle, pressing the submachine gun back against Victor Zsasz's chest.

"Now, tell me your decision. Me, or death? Zsasz, you only have one chance to choose, so... I suggest you be rational!"

Thanks to everyone's daily reading, we've managed to crawl into the top 100 of the light novel new book charts with Downton.

However, we're currently at the very bottom, where we're almost impossible to find...

I ask that you all continue reading so we can push a few spots higher. I'm hoping we can snag an opportunity for a trial promotion!