The police car drove into the cannery. The Roman's men had already sealed off every direction around it, openly carrying long guns and heavy weapons as if they were preparing for war.
After stopping the car, Miao Mu unfastened his seat belt and asked the back seat, "Am I getting out myself, or are you taking me out?"
"Get out yourself." Zsasz waved the muzzle of his gun. Here, he had no concern about what Miao Mu might do unless Miao Mu had gone insane.
Miao Mu pushed open the car door while grabbing the seat belt and yanking it hard. Using its elasticity, he snapped it toward Zsasz's face in the back seat.
The sudden move made Zsasz's eyes widen. At the same time, he aimed his gun at Miao Mu and prepared to pull the trigger.
Miao Mu had long been prepared for this. He raised a hand, grabbed the barrel, pressed his fingers against Zsasz's, and forced the gun upward toward the roof.
A burst of gunfire rang out—Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The Roman's men around them immediately raised their guns in unison.
Several holes were blasted through the police car's roof. A ricocheting bullet bounced inside the car and shattered the glass.
Zsasz threw away his pistol and flicked out the small knife hidden at his wrist. He spent dozens of hours training every day; the speed of his muscles was terrifying.
He attacked almost without thinking.
Miao Mu tilted his head aside to dodge the flying knife, then gathered strength and drove a heavy punch into the driver's seat. Bang!
The driver's seat was punched through like rubber foam, and Miao Mu's fist kept going, smashing toward Zsasz in the back seat.
The cramped space inside the police car was Miao Mu's greatest advantage. Especially