Amitabha

Amitabha.

Thorndike instinctively leaned backward, his peripheral vision catching the portrait on the table.

The figure in the painting bore such a striking resemblance to the person standing before him!

"Fire!"

Thorndike roared, regardless of who this was or how he had arrived.

Firing first was never the wrong move.

Taking a prisoner for questioning was only possible once one had established an advantage.

It was true that they had the numerical superiority, but for the intruder to dare come here, he must have had something to rely on.

Kill the enemy first, then ponder the questions.

In this moment, Thorndike appeared incredibly decisive.

The bodyguards were not slow to react either; almost the moment Thorndike shouted, they raised their muzzles and pulled the triggers.

In an instant, the sound of gunfire filled the entire space.

The elevator shaft was only slightly larger than the elevator itself.

There were no elevator doors.

There was absolutely nowhere to hide.

If Thorndike or the bodyguards had been even a fraction slower.

Tang Luo could have exited the cramped elevator and entered the room, where he would have had a relatively open space to dodge.

But now, with the opposition being so decisive, Tang Luo had to face the flaming muzzles of the group and the bullets erupting from them.

The revolvers used by these bodyguards were clearly of a much higher grade, utilizing a double-action mechanism that allowed for rapid fire.

Although the rate of fire was not fast compared to modern firearms.

The sheer number of people firing was significant.

The dense sound of gunfire rang out, resembling a storm of bullets.

With nowhere to hide, Tang Luo faced the incoming storm of lead and raised his right hand.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the scene before him seemed to slow down instantly.

Thorndike's bending motion, the bodyguards' act of pulling the triggers, the flames spitting from the muzzles.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion.

With his right thumb pressed against his index finger, Tang Luo aimed at a bullet flying toward his eyes and flicked his finger.

A crisp sound rang out.

The bullet head struck as if hitting a solid steel wall, compressing and shattering.

The mangled projectile ricocheted backward, colliding with another bullet.

Another crisp sound followed, and the two bullets flew off in different directions, one of them striking yet another bullet.

Clang, clatter.

The crisp sounds of metal striking metal, along with the noise of bullets hitting the floor.

Mixed in with the sound of gunfire.

Thorndike and his men widened their eyes; within their field of vision.

They only saw the "intruder's" right hand turn into a series of afterimages, with bullets constantly being deflected and falling to the ground.

Someone was even struck by a ricocheting stray bullet, letting out a miserable scream.

Until the gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

The final metallic clatter also ceased.

The room fell into a dead silence, save for the suppressed breathing of the two bodyguards who had been hit in the shoulder by stray bullets.

Revolvers, after six rounds, inevitably required reloading.

Even if the bodyguards carried specialized speedloaders, the reloading speed could not be fast.

There was no coordination between them.

Everyone had been firing recklessly, desperate to kill the person before them.

Thus, the window of vulnerability appeared.

And after the storm of bullets had passed, seeing their target still standing there perfectly unharmed.

Everyone was stunned, forgetting even to reload.

Tang Luo held one hand in a fist before him, the fist blocking their view, preventing them from seeing his face clearly.

The clenched fist was not tight, but loose, as if holding something inside.

With his palm facing downward, Tang Luo opened his five fingers.

The last few bullets he had caught fell to the ground, mixing into the pile of casings at his feet.

"Ah!"

The sound of the falling bullets seemed to "awaken" someone.

He let out a loud cry and raised his muzzle once more—though it was unclear if the cylinder was even loaded.

"Bang!"

A single gunshot rang out.

A bloody hole appeared in the center of the bodyguard's forehead, and his corpse collapsed, slamming into the floor.

Tang Luo held his left hand level, the pistol in his grip trailing a thin wisp of white smoke.

Revolvers were something Tang Luo possessed as well!

Tang Luo had never learned how to shoot.

But to hit a target with a firearm, there were only two requirements: first, aim accurately; second, keep a steady hand.

Tang Luo happened to satisfy both conditions perfectly.

When he fired, the muzzle did not deviate in the slightest.

Within a certain distance, he was a marksman who never missed.

Six gunshots rang out in total.

The six bodyguards who had still intended to fight back fell.

Now, the rest dared not act rashly.

They could only point their pistols at Tang Luo, maintaining a standoff.

Thorndike had already crouched behind the other side of the round table, staring at Tang Luo as he asked, "Are you the ones dealing with the Organization?"

"Mm."

Tang Luo acknowledged him, thought for a moment, and said, "You can call me the Punisher. I punish evil and promote good."

Thorndike sneered, expressing his disdain.

Punish evil and promote good?

This guy must be living in a dream.

However, after the sneer, Thorndike's expression turned gloomy once more.

The man living in a dream before him was now a nightmare for them all.

Blocking and catching bullets with his bare hands?

Or was he, in fact, the one dreaming?

Tang Luo looked down, took six bullets from his pocket, and loaded them into the cylinder at a leisurely pace before stepping out of the elevator.

Come to think of it, walking over and punching a man's head into a pulp was a bit too brutal and demonic.

It didn't fit his identity as a monk.

Using a gun was much more low-key and harmonious.

Just as Tang Luo was loading the bullets, a shadow suddenly appeared, dimming the lights.

Looking up, Tang Luo saw a hulking man standing before him.

He stood over two meters tall, his face covered in thick, coarse flesh.

In his right hand, he gripped a gleaming dagger.

He was the only one not holding a gun.

He was also one of Thorndike's two personal bodyguards.

Of the two bodyguards, one excelled with firearms.

This one, however, was immensely powerful, invincible in close quarters, and most importantly, not very bright.

Brainwashed by Thorndike, he was fiercely loyal and would never disobey any of Thorndike's orders.

Taking a bullet for him was a trivial matter.

At that moment, Tang Luo had just loaded the final bullet.

The towering man flashed a grin of extreme ferocity at Tang Luo and dropped the dagger from his hand.

He spread his arms wide and wrapped them around Tang Luo.

A beast-like low growl escaped his throat as the muscles on his arms bulged and veins popped out.

His face flushed red rapidly, and his forehead was covered in distended veins.

Clearly, he was using every ounce of his strength to crush Tang Luo to death.

His bear hug had claimed the lives of more than a few men.

Even after death, the body remained twisted in an exaggerated posture, a sight that could only be described as "beyond human recognition."

But now, this was merely the beginning.

As the man tightened his grip on Tang Luo, the sound of gunfire rang out once more.

In Thorndike's hand, a black revolver had appeared from nowhere.

Gripping the gun with both hands, he aimed past the man directly at Tang Luo's head and decisively pulled the trigger.

Few people knew that Count Thorndike was also a master marksman.

At the same time, the others pulled their triggers as well.

They were only a fraction of a second slower than Thorndike.

With Thorndike leading the assault, the others were responsible for finishing the job.

The revolver in Thorndike's hand was clearly different from the weapons the others carried.

The body of the revolver was black, adorned with golden engravings, appearing both noble and magnificent.

Unlike standard revolvers, it did not have a single thin barrel.

The front end resembled a common modern handgun, and near the trigger, it formed an inverted triangle that slanted downward.

It added a sense of dominance to its otherwise luxurious aesthetic.

The craftsmanship was simply not something that could be produced in this era.

Furthermore, it looked more like a work of art than a murder weapon.

Yet, its power was that of a true instrument of death!

No matter how high-end the others' pistols were, they could not guarantee that their bullets would fully penetrate the body of Thorndike's bodyguard to strike Tang Luo.

Especially since the bodyguard's entire body was tensed and exerting force.

Hitting him might cause him to erupt with even greater strength for a moment due to the pain.

But in the next breath, his strength would drain away, causing him to loosen his grip on Tang Luo.

However, the bullet fired from the revolver in Thorndike's hand—

The man's neck and chest were torn apart in that instant, the massive wounds causing his head and torso to be completely severed.

Tang Luo leaned backward.

The hat he was wearing fell off, perfectly covering his face.

The subsequent bullets struck the man's body before it could even hit the ground.

A few treacherous shots also flew toward Tang Luo.

But since the man had already released his grip, Tang Luo, leaning backward, took two steps back into the elevator and leaned against the interior, narrowly avoiding those bullets.

Is he dead?

Thorndike watched the blood-soaked Tang Luo, thinking to himself.

He had great confidence in the power of this revolver and his own marksmanship.

Thorndike had once used this revolver to kill a bear with a single shot from over 200 meters away.

This revolver was simply not meant to be used against humans.

He believed that no one could survive under this weapon once he had taken aim.

The target's blood-covered appearance seemed to confirm this.

But why did the unease, panic, and even fear in his heart show no signs of dissipating?

"Fire! Keep firing!"

Thorndike roared violently.

The others exchanged glances, confused by this act of desecrating a corpse.

But they respected Thorndike's wishes and pulled their triggers one after another.

In that very instant, Tang Luo, who had been leaning inside the elevator, suddenly moved.

His slanted posture straightened, and the hat fell to the floor.

He raised both hands, his left hand firing a shot.

His right hand moved like a blur.

After the gunshot, Thorndike struggled to turn his head and look around.

The companions and bodyguards who had been standing beside him had all fallen.

He looked back at Tang Luo.

The man was grinning, revealing white teeth, and between his upper and lower teeth, he held a bullet.

He had actually caught the bullet with his teeth!

There was no blood on Tang Luo's face; it had all been blocked by the hat that had fallen to the ground.

He opened his mouth, letting the bullet drop to the ground.

A crisp clatter echoed.

It jolted the stunned Thorndike back to his senses.

"Monster!"

"Monster!"

He roared, aiming his gun at Tang Luo once more.

After three gunshots, Thorndike let out a muffled grunt, and the black revolver fell to the floor.

His right wrist swelled up rapidly, and the webbing between his thumb and index finger had already split open.

The black revolver possessed immense power, and its recoil was shockingly strong.

Thorndike had fired recklessly, and before he could even finish all six rounds, he had already injured himself.

Having lost his final weapon, Thorndike's body trembled as he shouted at Tang Luo, "I—"

A streak of black light flashed by.

Thorndike's head and the revolver Tang Luo had thrown shattered simultaneously.

"Amitabha—"

Within the room that resembled a purgatory, a Buddhist chant rang out, sounding utterly incongruous and deeply eerie.

My cold is making me cough incessantly, so I'll keep it brief and get to the point.

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