Fierce Battle in the Hall

The first batch of Mafia members charging down had been completely unprepared. They took a barrage of bullets head-on, and several of them went down the moment they appeared.

The rest hurriedly ducked down behind the stair railings. The ornate, sturdy marble balustrades blocked some of the bullets for them.

But bullets still occasionally slipped through the gaps and struck someone. The Mafia members were completely pinned down, unable to raise their heads or fight back.

Before long, however, wave after wave of Mafia members ran down from the second floor, using the staircase as cover as they launched an attack on Chen Mo and the others.

Although Howard and the others kept taking out enemies who showed themselves, more and more gunmen gathered on the stairs. Each of them stayed behind cover, engaging the Mafia across from them in a fierce firefight.

Perhaps caught up in the heat of battle, the usually deathly afraid Howard actually moved out from behind Chen Mo. He stood brazenly in the middle of the hall and fired repeatedly at the staircase, his eyes shining with excitement.

Everyone else was shooting from behind cover, so Howard's sudden appearance drew the attention of several Mafia members. Seeing this, a burly man holding a double-barreled hunting rifle immediately shifted his muzzle toward Howard.

With a bang, a burst of flame erupted from the muzzle. The dozen or so lead pellets packed into the No. 20 shotgun shell spread out in a small cluster and struck Howard squarely in the chest and abdomen, the tremendous impact sending him flying.

Howard hit the floor and bared his teeth in pain. The instant the buckshot had hit him, it felt as though he had been punched more than a dozen times at once, jolting his bones painfully.

Before he could marvel at the Bulletproof Armor's incredible defense, Howard rolled several times in succession and ducked behind a pile of sofas. Their solid, heavy hardwood frames were enough to withstand attacks from these small-caliber bullets.

The burly man who had hit Howard stared wide-eyed at the seemingly unharmed man, wondering if he had accidentally loaded rubber bullets. Before he could raise his gun and attack again, a bullet fired from the corner pierced his skull.

More and more gunmen poured down from the second floor, gradually suppressing the Martial Arts School members. They could only hide behind cover such as corners and pillars, poking their heads out to return fire during lulls in the enemy's barrage.

In truth, with Chen Mo's strength, he could have quickly wiped out all these gunmen by himself. Yet he remained in a corner of the hall and rarely made a move.

Most of Chen Mo's attention was focused on Albert and the others. Whenever they poked their heads out from behind cover and exposed themselves to the opposing fire, Chen Mo carefully watched the direction of the enemy muzzles. Whenever someone aimed at their heads, Chen Mo's bullets would get there first and take out the threatening gunman directly.

As for Howard taking that shot? As long as it was not aimed at his head, Chen Mo ignored all nonlethal attacks.

He was in no hurry to end the battle. It was rare for the Martial Arts School members to get a chance at real combat, so this was the perfect opportunity to train them properly. Fighting with real guns and live ammunition was the fastest way to grow.

With Chen Mo secretly watching over them, although they were being suppressed by the enemy, they were not in any mortal danger. Even when the occasional bullet struck them, it only felt like being punched, while the spot that had been hit remained completely uninjured.

Their marksmanship was not weak either. Despite being pinned down by the enemy's dense barrage and having their own firepower greatly reduced, they continued taking out enemies on the stairs. As the intense gunfight continued, the broad, luxurious staircase gradually became littered with the bodies of dead Mafia members.

Fewer and fewer people were charging down from upstairs, while more and more were being killed. Facing these invaders, who were few in number but formidable in combat, the Mafia gunmen still held the numerical advantage, yet their momentum gradually faded.

The firefight was so fierce, and their own side had suffered devastating casualties while the enemy had not lost a single person. Feeling the companions around them steadily dwindling, the remaining men could not help growing afraid, and their firepower weakened accordingly.

Huang Quan hid behind a thick marble pillar and swiftly changed magazines. In the fierce exchange just now, relying on his sharp reactions and precise marksmanship, he had taken out at least five enemies.

After changing magazines, Huang Quan keenly sensed that the bullets striking the marble pillar behind him had become noticeably sparser. Not wasting the opportunity, he immediately darted out, aimed both guns at the enemies on the opposite staircase, and rapidly pulled the triggers.

The first bullet struck the marble railing of the staircase, blasting a chip out of the smooth, ornate stone.

The second bullet followed close behind, passing through a gap in the railing and burying itself in the chest of a Mafia member hiding behind it.

Two shots, one enemy down. Huang Quan immediately ducked back behind the marble pillar as a dense barrage of bullets followed, sending stone chips flying from the pillar.

Han Qing, Wang Kun, and Luo Zhen were not idle either. They likewise seized the chance created by the enemy's weakened firepower, firing a rapid volley and each taking out an enemy.

Old Albert's performance was particularly eye-catching. He had originally been hiding at the corner of a wall on one side of the hall, his back against the wall, a pistol in each hand raised beside his ears. His refined, steady face now carried a trace of cold killing intent.

Taking advantage of the lull in fire, he spun out from cover. As his body turned, his arms extended forward with the motion. His sharp gaze locked firmly onto the enemies on the opposite staircase, and his two pistols fired almost simultaneously. Driven by the explosive force of the gunpowder, two bullets shot from their chambers one after the other, spinning at high speed as they streaked toward the staircase.

On the staircase, two Mafia members stood before the railing, each holding a Thompson submachine gun and spraying bullets downward with vicious expressions.

With two muffled puffs of bullets entering flesh, blood burst from each man's chest. They grunted and collapsed to the ground, never rising again.

Albert's gun-wielding hands moved without pause, constantly aiming and firing, while his feet kept moving as he rapidly headed for a marble pillar to one side.

Albert could be said to have the best marksmanship among them aside from Chen Mo. With his dual pistols firing continuously, the Mafia members across from him fell one after another. Their return fire only made his movements stall slightly when it struck him.

By the time he ducked behind the pillar again, the bullets in his guns had been used up.

His agile figure and calm bearing made Chen Mo, who had been watching the battlefield all along, nod to himself. He could not help thinking of Harry, the highly skilled, elegant gentleman spy from Kingsman.

As for Howard, who loved fighting yet feared death, he hid behind a pile of heavy hardwood sofas and fired upward through the gaps. He had chosen a particularly tricky position, making it difficult for the gunmen on the opposite staircase to aim at him. So he stayed there, firing continuously with an excited look on his face, and had killed no fewer enemies than Old Albert.

A Mafia gunman on the staircase noticed Howard hiding behind the sofas and quietly raised his gun to aim at him.

Howard, who believed himself to be well hidden, noticed nothing and continued firing with complete focus.