Escape

The glass door behind Beta suddenly shattered, and a burly man lunged out, his iron-like arms clamping tightly around Beta's waist.

The two slammed heavily onto the ground. The impact of their helmets against the marble floor made a sickening "bang." Fortunately, Beta's back of the head was saved from being crushed by the Kevlar helmet.

The attacker struggled to draw his gun, but Beta was faster.

Lying flat on the ground, he raised his hand and fired a shot. The bullet precisely pierced the assailant's left chest. The bodyguard grunted but still pressed down on him. Beta immediately tightened his legs, coiling around the man's neck like a python, and continued firing towards the swimming pool.

Through the swaying figures and splashing water, he saw Iosef, butt naked, scrambling up the ladder with all fours.

Beta gritted his teeth and adjusted his aim. With a "bang," he finished off the bodyguard strangling him, then emptied his magazine at the pathetic figure fleeing away.

With a "click" of the empty chamber, the bullets only left a few holes in the tempered glass railing. Iosef's pale backside flashed one last time at the corner before disappearing into the upper corridor.

Beta rolled and kicked away the corpse, using the momentum to flash behind a Roman column. He quickly ejected the empty magazine of his Glock 17, drew a fresh one from his belt, and inserted it into the grip. With a "click," he completed the reload.

Three precise shots took down the bodyguard leading the charge. The first pierced his heart, the second blew off his skull, and the third entered his spine after he fell.

The second bodyguard's .45 caliber bullet slammed heavily into Beta's body armor. Amidst the dull thud of the shattered ceramic plate, he leaned back to absorb the impact. The moment his back hit the ground, he launched a triple counterattack. Two 9mm Parabellum rounds entered the assailant's abdomen, and the third went through his mouth and into his skull.

Beta rolled sideways, spinning behind another load-bearing pillar, and slid his Glock into a quick-draw holster.

He single-handedly ejected the empty rifle magazine, flipped the modular magazine assembly, and the spare magazine, already secured to the empty one via a side clip, was ready. With a "click" of metal engaging, 30 rounds of 5.56mm ammunition were chambered. The entire reload process took less than two seconds.

Beta angled his body and fired a burst, killing the last bodyguard at the end of the corridor.

He quickly swiveled his rifle, aiming through the glass railing at the battle on the second floor. The distinctive "pop-pop" of the suppressed rifle sounded repeatedly. The 5.56mm bullets easily penetrated the multiple layers of reinforced glass, taking down the three bodyguards surrounding John one after another.

John seized the opportunity, picked up the dropped pistol, flicked open the empty magazine with his thumb, and a new magazine clicked into the grip.

"Go after Iosef!" he roared downstairs, his voice exceptionally clear in the building where the gunfire had momentarily ceased.

Beta understood. After dealing with another bodyguard lunging at John, he immediately turned and sprinted towards the equipment room. In the narrow maintenance corridor, his shoe soles made hurried "thump-thump" sounds on the metal grating floor.

Every second counted now. Their BMW was parked in the back alley. To intercept that naked scoundrel, they needed vehicle superiority.

Beta charged out of the bathroom, stepping through the pools of blood, and slammed his shoulder against the back door. The metal door frame groaned and deformed under the immense force.

He rushed towards the silent BMW in the alley. As he pulled open the car door, he flung the cumbersome Kevlar helmet onto the back seat.

The engine roared to life, and the rear wheels smoked on the asphalt. The BMW shot out of the alley, executing a beautiful drift arc at the first intersection. The screech of tires against the ground startled the entire street.

While the car was still sliding slightly from inertia, Beta had already spotted the chaotic scene at the club's main entrance. Iosef, wrapped in a towel, looked like a startled chicken, scrambling into the back seat of a silver-white Mercedes-Benz.

The two cars now formed a pursuit on the main road. The BMW's V8 engine let out a ferocious roar, the tachometer needle pushing towards the red line, and the distance to the Mercedes was shrinking at a visible rate.

Iosef turned his head in terror from the back seat. Through the Mercedes' rear window, he saw the black BMW rapidly approaching like a vengeful ghost.

"Speed up, damn it!" he screamed hysterically, slapping the back of the driver's seat, his voice cracking.

The bodyguard driving the Mercedes slammed on the accelerator. The tires screeched violently on the asphalt, emitting a burst of smoke. The powerful G-force pressed Iosef back into the leather seat, and the distance between the two cars began to gradually widen.

Beta floored the accelerator. The BMW's front bumper slammed into the rear of the Mercedes with a dull "thud" accompanied by the groan of twisting metal. The Mercedes swayed left and right like a startled beast, its hazard lights flashing urgently, but it quickly stabilized and continued its frantic escape forward.

The two luxury cars engaged in a chase on the neon-lit street, the speedometer needles long past the speed limit.

The silver Mercedes, like a mad shark, roughly shoved aside two parallel taxis. With a loud "crunch," the side mirrors snapped off, and the doors dented and deformed from the impact.

The BMW followed closely, its engine roaring and tearing through the night wind. The driver of the taxi on the right had just opened his door to check when it was instantly sheared off at the base by the speeding BMW.

The driver froze in his seat, his face pale as he watched the twisted door spin through the air before "clanging" to the ground. The two speeding luxury cars had long since disappeared down the street, leaving only the shrill sound of tires friction echoing between the buildings.

Iosef pulled out the bodyguard's sidearm from the back seat, braced his knees against the leather, and stuck half his body out the window.

His trembling hands pulled the trigger. The bullets whistled through the BMW's windshield, leaving spiderweb cracks on the glass.

Beta suddenly ducked to avoid the shots, simultaneously flooring the accelerator.

The BMW's front end, like a heavy hammer, slammed into the rear of the Mercedes. The two high-speed luxury cars instantly lost control. Under the immense impact, the Mercedes' tires shrieked and skidded, its body spinning 180 degrees like a top before its rear end slammed into the front of a Toyota parked by the roadside with a "boom."

The BMW swerved sharply to avoid, its tail spinning out due to inertia, and finally crashed diagonally into a vehicle in the oncoming lane. The airbags exploded with a "bang," and Beta's vision went black from the jolt.

He shook his dizzy head and saw through the shattered windshield that the Mercedes was emitting a dying roar. Its rear suspension was cocked high from the impact and was now slowly settling back down, its exhaust pipe spewing puffs of black smoke.

Beta decisively shot the obstructing airbag with his pistol and pressed the ignition button hard. But the engine only coughed weakly, and the dashboard flashed red warning lights. The severe frontal impact had damaged the engine, rendering the BMW completely inoperable.

The silver Mercedes' rear wheels spun wildly on the asphalt, rubber fiercely grinding against the road, sending up plumes of white smoke.

With a "clang" of metal impact, the twisted and deformed rear suspension finally broke free from the Toyota's front end and landed heavily back on the ground. The engine let out a dying roar. This battered luxury car staggered forward again, actually fleeing back in the direction it came from.

- In response to Reader Boss's comment, I did not use stills or photos of real people as character images because I don't want to define a specific character's appearance.

- Everyone has their own idea of what a character looks like in their mind. The author only needs to provide a general description of their appearance, a general image, and should not overstep by telling Reader Boss, "This character looks exactly like this."

- I am just an author. The readers who read my book are the bosses. The space for imagination should be left to the Reader Boss.