The elevator doors were forcibly pried open. Several flashlight-mounted gun barrels pointed inside. Under the lights, the panicked crowd looked like a startled flock of sheep, screaming in fear and begging for mercy.
One of the Joker's men saw the police emerging from the elevator and hurriedly raised his submachine gun.
But before he could pull the trigger, the muffled crack of a suppressed assault rifle rang out first.
One shot to the neck, two to the chest.
The three-round burst sent the Joker thug crashing backward under the impact of the bullets. His carotid artery ruptured, and thick, dark-red blood spread beneath him.
"Spread out!"
Without hesitation, Miao Mu pulled the trigger. Holding his assault rifle and looking through its optical sight, he ordered the Rapid Response Unit behind him, "Rescue the hostages first. Everyone else, fire at will!"
Wearing black body armor and helmets, with conspicuous white GCPD markings on their chests and backs, the Rapid Response Unit members scattered and advanced in a fan-shaped formation.
Before the crowd could react, gunfire erupted. Bullets flew through the air, slammed into bodies, and burst into sprays of warm blood that splattered across the surrounding people.
The terrified crowd could no longer bear that hopeless fear. Their crying, wailing, and pleas for mercy made the place sound like Hell.
Without the lights, the television station building was dark, and visibility was poor.
The central studio was especially pitch-black. Only a little light shone through the glass walls from the windows outside.
Joker picked up a woman's handbag from the floor, completely unconcerned about his men outside being taken down. They had all been recruited casually anyway, using a few hypnotic tricks and drugs.
He could get as many lackeys like that as he wanted. Gotham had no shortage of trash,