After the walkie-talkie fell silent, Lin An casually tossed it aside, then bent down and pulled the rifle sling off the short gunman.
It was an M4 carbine—or, more precisely, a civilian AR-15. It had originally been semi-automatic, but someone had drilled a third hole in the lower receiver and replaced the entire fire-control group, allowing it to fire fully automatically.
Of course, that modification came with risks. But for now, it solved some of Lin An's problems, so he slung the rifle over his shoulder and searched out three magazines, stuffing them all into his pockets.
Then he stood and looked toward the end of the corridor.
The Black man was still there.
He was crouched behind a pile of rusted sheet metal, pistol raised above his head and aimed at Lin An, but he had shrunk so far down that only the top of his head and two wide, staring eyes showed.
[This guy's scared shitless.]
[I can see his legs shaking.]
Lin An beckoned to him.
The Black man didn't move.
Lin An beckoned again.
The man slowly stood up, still aiming the pistol at Lin An, but his finger wasn't on the trigger... That was a good sign. It meant he still had a little sense left.
Hunched over, he jogged toward Lin An, his sneakers crunching over the broken glass like someone stepping on a bag of potato chips.
Only when he got close did Lin An get a good look at his face.
He looked to be at least in his thirties, with a face covered in stubble, deep forehead wrinkles, and drooping eyes.
"You want to live..."
"Bro, you killed someone, and I killed someone... Okay, I didn't kill anyone. I fired a shot but missed, but that's not the point. The point is, those idiots are gonna kill everyone in here. You help me, you're helping the protagonist."
He spoke so fast he sounded like a car with failing brakes hurtling down a hill.
"First, my name is Darnell Washington. Second, thanks for saving me, and also..."
He held up three fingers and waggled them in front of Lin An.
"Could you give me that shotgun? You've already got a rifle, and all I have is a pistol I can't shoot straight. That's not fair, you know what I mean?"
Lin An looked at him without saying a word as the bullet screen went wild.
[Holy shit, this guy's a stand-up comedian.]
[Ni Ge's got a silver tongue.]
[Take him out.]
[Sigh, everyone in the bullet screen is a genius. You all understand English. What am I supposed to do? I don't understand it.]
[To the guy above, you haven't turned on the AI subtitles?]
Darnell waited two seconds, then carried on talking by himself.
"Okay, you won't give it to me. I get it. A normal person would hesitate if a stranger asked for a weapon in the middle of a shootout... But you gotta understand, I'm not normal. I'm the calmest, smartest, most—"
A burst of gunfire suddenly rang out in the distance. Three shots, evenly spaced, like someone beating a drum.
Darnell's voice cut off abruptly.
"Go, go, go!"
Darnell grabbed Lin An by the arm and started to run.
"Over there! Go that way. There's an exit over there. We can get out that way!"
"Wait..."
"Wait for what?"
Darnell was already dragging Lin An along, his sneakers skidding across the floor.
"You know what kind of gun that is? An AR-15. I hate that gun in Call of Duty. One shot and you're dead, you know what I mean?"
Lin An stumbled as Darnell pulled him along, nearly dropping the shotgun. He tried to shake the man off, but the guy was absurdly strong... There might have been a bricklayer's body hidden beneath that older face.
"There are people blocking the way up ahead. We'll die if we go there!"
"Seriously!?"
Darnell stopped in astonishment.
"How do you know?"
Lin An glanced at the bullet screen on his left.
[Five gunmen are hiding up ahead.]
[Two are coming up behind you, two walls away.]
[Three people are flanking you from the right.]
Lin An handed Darnell the AR-15 from his shoulder, then gave him the three magazines as well.
"Find somewhere to hold up. Don't run around. I'm going hunting."
With that, Lin An turned and headed back the way they'd come.
Darnell stared down at the AR-15 in his hands, then looked up at Lin An's back as it disappeared into the darkness.
"Wait, what do you mean by 'hunting'? You're going hunting? What's there to hunt here? Rats? Raccoons? Or..."
Lin An had already vanished into the darkness.
Back at their original position, the tall man's body was still there, his weapon trapped underneath it. Lin An rolled the body aside. It was an AMD-65, a shortened AKM made in Hungary—a military-grade assault rifle that came with fully automatic fire without needing any modifications.
It was a good gun, but its heavy recoil made it unsuitable for Lin An right now.
Even so, he picked it up and searched the corpse for five magazines. Then he was faced with a dilemma.
Lin An already had a shotgun and a pistol, and he was close to his carrying limit. Taking the assault rifle and five fully loaded magazines would take a great deal of energy, even just to walk around.
Seeing Lin An's hesitation, someone in the bullet screen offered a suggestion.
[Check the interface. There's a Live Stream Store in the upper-right corner. You can put items in there and take them back out when you need them.]
Lin An saw the message and opened the Live Stream Store.
There was no time to think it over. He took a quick look. The feature worked just as the bullet screen had described, and viewers could redeem items in the store with points. As for how they earned points, it was probably through donations.
With no time to spare, Lin An willed it, and the AMD-65 and its five magazines vanished from his hands. Then the AMD-65 appeared again before disappearing once more.
Huh. It really worked.
Lin An then put the shotgun shells and Ruger pistol from his person into the store as well. Taking things from the store was far more convenient than switching weapons or digging out ammunition himself.
Once he was ready, Lin An held his breath, moved quietly, and followed the bullet screen's guidance into a dark corner of the abandoned factory, closing in on the nearest enemy.
The abandoned factory covered a vast area and was pitch-black. It was also cluttered with all sorts of things: discarded, rusted machinery and makeshift shelters built between machines and walls. The result was a maze of a place.
The armed men of unknown origin had been slaughtering people without restraint, but they hadn't actually killed every resident hiding there.
As Lin An moved through the darkness, the bullet screen told him one thing after another: where danger lay, where a homeless man was hiding, where he could slip past a rusted stamping press, and how to avoid the defensive traps set by the locals.
Gunfire suddenly erupted in the distance, followed by Darnell's loud cursing.
Clearly, he'd been spotted. He was fighting for his life.
Lin An didn't care if that Black guy lived or died. Even if he ignored the orders and ran off only to get shot, Lin An wouldn't care, let alone stop playing this fun game.
"Bang!"
Two gunmen were hurrying toward the area where the shots had come from when a shotgun muzzle flash suddenly flared at their side.
One of them took a blast of twelve-gauge buckshot and immediately hit the ground, falling fast asleep without a sound.
The other Black gunman spun around as fast as he could. His submachine gun was still swinging into position when he opened fire, sweeping a fan of bullets toward the direction of the attack. The rounds struck the cast-iron base of a stamping press, spitting out a string of sparks, while ricochets left white streaks on the wall.
The submachine gun fired rapidly. In less than two seconds, it had run out of ammunition and gave a muffled metallic clank.
As soon as the gunman felt the weapon go empty, he spun around and ducked behind a wall. He peeked out with one eye to watch the area while rapidly changing magazines.
Just then, the walkie-talkie on the Black man's shoulder crackled to life.
"Deshawn, what's going on?"
"Marquis is dead... Someone's shooting at us with a shotgun!"
The Black gunman shouted in terror.
"I need help... Damn it, I just sprayed him, but I didn't hit anything. He—"
"Pop... Pop!"
Two crisp pistol shots rang out behind him, and the Black gunman, who'd been nervously watching the area, dropped like a stone. The walkie-talkie still in his hand let out a burst of static.
"Deshawn... Deshawn!"
Lin An picked up the walkie-talkie and put it in the store. He didn't know how to use it, but he could let the viewers redeem it. Better than letting it go to waste.
Inside the abandoned factory, Lin An moved like a fish returning to the river, striding through the dark and between the gaps with his gun in one hand.
He never approached a gunman from the front, always coming at them from the side or behind. He'd fire the shotgun without warning, killing one man, then turn and step into nearby cover to avoid the enemy's return fire. Once he'd circled around, he'd use the Ruger .22 Pistol to fire two more shots.
Lin An never fired a second shotgun blast near a gunman. When he racked the Remington M870, the mechanical clack of the pump was too obvious and would give away his position.
The Ruger .22 Pistol didn't have that problem. It was semi-automatic, and it wasn't very loud when fired.
Lots of people said .22 rounds were too weak. If you hit someone in the torso, they could still keep moving or even raise their weapon to shoot back... But no matter how small the caliber, a bullet could still kill.
At close range, Lin An fired the Ruger .22 Pistol at the gunmen. First, he shot them in the chest to stop them from moving around. Then he put a second round in the head to finish them off.
The shotgun and .22 pistol shots rang out one after another inside the abandoned factory. Each time, someone died.
Darnell was hiding in a room.
Calling it a "room" was generous. It was probably a guard room from the old factory. Four walls were still standing, but bullets had blasted away all but half the door. Wood chips and the feces left behind by homeless people littered the floor, making for a "pleasant" environment.
Darnell crouched in the corner, his back pressed against the wall and knees drawn to his chest. The AR-15 lay across his legs, pointed toward the half-door.
His posture looked pretty professional... If you ignored the fact that his whole body was shaking.
Gunfire sounded outside again.
"Bang."
It didn't sound far away, maybe just behind the row of machines next door.
Darnell jerked, nearly hitting his head against the wall. He clutched the rifle tighter, his finger trembling outside the trigger guard.
"Okay."
He whispered to himself.
"Another one's dead. One of the idiots is dead. It's gotta be one of the idiots, because bro's the hunter and the idiots are the prey. Hunters don't die. Hunters are... Hunters can't be killed, Darnell, you know what I mean?"
Another burst of gunfire rang out, two shots this time... Pop, pop.
The .22 rounds sounded like someone hammering in nails.
"Two more."
Darnell counted.
"First one to the chest, second one to the head. That's so cool, like a hitman in a movie. When he shoots, his face's gotta be totally blank... Totally blank, you know what I mean?
A normal person ought to show some kind of expression when they talk about killing someone, right? At least smile a little? Or frown? He didn't show anything, like he was saying the shrimp chips needed to fry for three minutes."
He stopped and swallowed.
"My stepdad used to say the scariest people weren't the ones who shouted. They were the ones who said nothing. Those are the ones who kill the hardest..."
Gunfire sounded again, closer this time, in the corridor beside the room. A shotgun blast, then a minute later, two .22 shots.
Darnell's mouth immediately snapped shut.
He curled up into a ball, his forehead against his knees. The rifle slid off his legs and hit the ground with a clang. He hurriedly picked it up, clutched it to his chest, and pointed it at the door again.
"I'm Darnell Washington. I'm the coolest Black guy in New York..."
Darnell kept muttering to himself, unaware of when the gunfire outside had stopped.
After a long while, the walkie-talkie he'd picked up from a gunman crackled to life. Even with the volume turned down, it sounded loud in the quiet factory.
"...Who's still alive?"
Silence.
"Who's still there... Answer me..."
Still no reply. After a while, the man on the other end swallowed. Darnell heard it clearly. Then the man spoke.
"Boss, you must've heard. My men are all dead. I'm getting out of here... Let out the dogs you brought. Have them tear that bastard apart!"
"How many gunmen are left? One, running for the exit?"
In a corner of the factory grounds, Lin An loaded his Remington shotgun as he questioned the bullet screen.
After some time to get used to them, he'd become familiar with the pistol and shotgun, and had gotten pretty good at using them. At distances of three to ten meters, he could hit a human-shaped target. He'd also gotten used to the viewers behind the bullet screen and knew they could watch his surroundings from every angle, as well as see through walls to places farther away.
That farther range was somewhere between fifty and eighty meters. The viewers sending the messages couldn't say exactly how far, let alone Lin An.
Fortunately, during the fighting, the viewers had also started learning how to use the bullet screen to help Lin An.
For example, if they spotted a gunman, they'd use lines of text to draw a box around him. If the box moved, that meant the gunman was walking. If it grew larger, he was coming toward Lin An; if it shrank, he was moving away.
If there was an obstacle ahead, they'd use lines to sketch out its approximate shape. If the floor was covered in small, fragile objects that would make noise, they'd lay wavy lines over it.
Thanks to these clear and simple signals, Lin An could hunt down the armed scum in the dark factory grounds as easily as a fish in water.
[This is bad. Something monstrous just got in.]
[A big black dog. It's moving so fast.]
[No, it's standing up! It's standing like a person—two meters tall!]
Lin An read the bullet screen and pushed the last shotgun shell into the chamber.
From the flood of messages, he got a general idea of what was coming. He wasn't afraid. If anything, he was excited.
[It's coming your way.]
[No, no, it turned. It's heading for the warehouse on the right.]
[We're screwed. There are a lot of homeless people's shacks over there. Lots of people hiding inside.]
[It's moving so fast.]
Lin An still didn't move.
His breathing was steady, his chest barely rising. His eyes narrowed to slits in the darkness, like an owl waiting for its prey to pass by a hollow in a tree.
Then a low, guttural growl came from the wall across from him, the sound of a beast forcing its way up from deep in its throat.
Then came a human scream.
"Ah... Help me! Help..."
"Crack... Crack."
Even through two walls, the sound of bones breaking was unmistakable, like someone snapping wet branches one after another.
The screaming stopped soon after.
The growling continued, low and satisfied, like the purr of a beast licking its paws.
Lin An furrowed his brow.
[Shit, that big dog is eating people.]
[Kill it quickly! Shoot it dead! We can't let a man-eater live!]
[Kill it, my ass! Streamer, run! You can't take that thing!]
[Run!]
Lin An didn't run. He raised the shotgun, aimed toward the sound, and started walking forward.
[Streamer, are you crazy?]
[That thing's two meters tall! That piece of junk in your hands won't kill it!]
[Switch to slugs. In Monster Hunting Game, you need slugs to pierce its hide.]
[Run! Go find that Black guy and run with him!]
Lin An ignored the Bullet Screen. He walked slowly and calmly, adjusting his breathing as he went and working out a strategy that suited him.
He rounded a corner and saw his target.
At the end of the passage, about fifteen meters away, a shack had been torn apart. Its sheet-metal walls had been ripped open like paper, and its blankets, cardboard boxes, and plastic bottles were scattered everywhere.
Beside the shack lay a heap of things... human remains.
A monster crouched with its back to Lin An, shoulders heaving as it crouched beside the remains and chewed with wet, smacking sounds.
The monster's back was broad as a wall. Its black fur was almost invisible in the darkness. Only the moonlight spilling through the skylight touched its shoulder blades, outlining its muscles.
Even crouching, the monster was as tall as Lin An was now. By his estimate, it had to be two meters tall. The Bullet Screen hadn't exaggerated.
Lin An stopped and aimed the shotgun at its back. The sights wavered twice in the darkness, then steadied.
The distance was about twelve meters.
The Bullet Screen kept scrolling.
[Don't shoot! The second you do, it'll find you.]
[Find cover first. Somewhere you can escape from.]
[Streamer, listen to us for once. You really can't beat this thing.]
"Boom... click... boom."
Lin An pulled the trigger. As the stock slammed into his shoulder, he racked the pump as fast as he could, chambered a shell, and fired again. He emptied the shotgun's four-plus-one rounds as quickly as possible, blasting the monster in the back.
The furry monster immediately collapsed onto the human remains.
[He hit it!]
[Four out of five shots hit. Nice shooting, streamer!]
[Wait, it's moving!]
The monster, lying in the gore, gave Lin An no time to catch his breath. Its shoulders twitched, then it sprang up and lunged into the shack ahead.
The shack's sheet-metal wall tore open like paper. The monster crashed through the other side and vanished into the darkness.
Lin An didn't chase after it. Instead, he backed up two steps and leaned against the wall at the corner of the passage. He put the empty shotgun away in the System Store, then tapped the air with a finger. An Ingram Submachine Gun taken from the gunman's corpse appeared in his hand.
The System Store had a more powerful AMD-65 short-barreled assault rifle, but it wasn't suitable for Lin An right now. He knew his limits. Until he'd received proper firearms training, trying to fight monsters with a high-recoil assault rifle would only make things harder for himself.
He pulled the charging handle to make sure a round was chambered, then unfolded the stock, shouldered the gun, and aimed toward the direction the monster had fled.
With the gun in hand, Lin An silently recalled the Ingram Submachine Gun's characteristics. Translucent white bullet comments flickered before him.
[It's coming around from the left.]
[It stopped for a moment. It's licking its wound.]
[Shit, it licked it twice, and now it's moving again.]
[It's circling around behind you, behind that gantry crane.]
Lin An turned and aimed toward the gantry crane.
In the darkness, a huge shadow flashed beneath the moonlight. A dull thud followed as its padded feet hit the ground.
Lin An pulled the trigger without hesitation. The Ingram fired so fast it sounded like tearing cloth. Its .45-caliber bullets struck the gantry crane's steel beams, sending sparks flying.
The dense burst of gunfire forced the shadow to kick off hard with its hind legs. Its whole body sprang left like a compressed coil, disappearing behind another row of shelves.
He'd missed, but he'd stopped the monster from using the cover to close in.
The empty Ingram magazine was unmistakable. Lin An released the trigger and put the gun away in the System Store. He tapped the air again... A Ruger .22 Pistol appeared in his hand.
There was no time to change magazines, so he took a fully loaded pistol straight from the store.
[It's moving again, coming out from behind the shelves.]
A bullet-comment box appeared in his field of vision and rapidly grew larger.
Lin An didn't run. He crouched down, braced the pistol on his knee, and aimed toward the shelves.
The moment the shadow charged out from behind them, he opened fire, trying to empty the Ruger's magazine as quickly as possible.
All ten .22 rounds flew out. Five struck the monster in the chest and shoulder as it charged straight at him.
The monster's body jolted, its charge interrupted for a beat.
Its front legs skidded across the ground, but its hind legs immediately caught it. It arched its body and let out a low growl.
It didn't stop. It charged again.
Lin An stood and switched to a Glock 17. Firing rapidly, he backed away.
The nine-millimeter bullets struck its face. The monster's head was knocked to one side, and red liquid sprayed from its face, but it didn't slow down.
Five meters.
Still deadly calm, Lin An put away the pistol and took out the AMD-65. He braced the rifle with his left hand, held it firmly, and pulled the trigger all the way back.
The monster reacted quickly. As the assault rifle fired, it swayed from side to side, doing everything it could to dodge the bullets.
The AMD-65's muzzle spat deadly fire. Three seconds later, the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. The thirty rounds formed an irregular spread in front of Lin An, and only three hit the monster.
One 7.62-millimeter intermediate-power round tore through the monster's chest. Another ripped a chunk of flesh from its shoulder, and the last struck its thigh with a terrible snapping sound.
But the monster's vitality was terrifying. It still didn't fall.
It braced its forepaws against the ground and raised its head, fixing its yellow-green eyes on Lin An. Its mouth stretched open, revealing a row of yellowish-white teeth, and black liquid dribbled from the corners.
[It's still alive after all that?]
[Switch guns! Keep shooting until it's dead!]
[The streamer's used up all the loaded guns in the store! Reloading is what matters now!]
Lin An furrowed his brow. He began removing the empty magazine from the assault rifle and replacing it with a full one.
The monster realized this was its only chance. Ignoring everything, it rose on its one remaining leg, then sprang forward with all its strength, launching itself at Lin An, who was only seven or eight meters away.
It all happened too fast, too suddenly. The composed Lin An and the viewers hadn't even had time to react. They could only watch as the monster stretched out its limbs in midair and unsheathed the red claws on its fingers, swiping at Lin An.
"Bang!"
A figure slammed into the monster from behind Lin An, crashing into it head-on and knocking its claws away before they could reach him.
It was Darnell. He and the monster crashed hard to the ground in front of Lin An.
Before you continue