Bullets whizzed through the air above the first-class lounge, weaving together into a symphonic movement.
Unfortunately, most of the passengers in the lounge had already fallen asleep and could not appreciate this rare performance. Aside from Brynhildr and Skögul, the only one still able to move was the God of Machines.
He sat stiffly in his seat, neck craned out, looking utterly dumbfounded.
After witnessing Thrúd get shot in the head, he had assumed he was as good as dead. The other side had already demonstrated just how accurate their shooting was, and the two Valkyries had reacted quickly, ducking down to find cover. That made him the most conspicuous person in the lounge.
The God of Machines had realized he could not possibly escape the second wave of attacks. He had been ready to close his eyes and await death, but unexpectedly, the bullets seemed to have eyes. They all veered around him and chased after Brynhildr and Skögul instead.
"You bastard! You deliberately disguised yourself as a lone man, but you had accomplices lying in wait all along!" Skögul said bitterly. Clutching her injured arm, she hid behind a bookshelf. Thrúd's corpse lay fewer than five steps away, her face still frozen in shock and terror, as though she could not believe she had died here just like that.
"I have accomplices?" The God of Machines was as shocked as a lottery winner named Mr. Li being told he had just won five million.
As if answering his question, the gunmen outside intensified their assault. Bullets poured toward Brynhildr and Skögul's hiding places as if ammunition cost nothing.
The bookshelf was immediately riddled with holes and looked ready to collapse at any moment. Skögul, behind it, had also fallen silent. It was impossible to tell whether she was