The instant Qin Wei pressed the bomb's detonator, a violent explosion blasted a fist-sized hole in the wall.
The hole was not large enough for the two of them to pass through, but the powerful rush of air that followed proved a huge help.
The fragile bricks were like yellowed old posters being peeled away, torn to shreds and sucked into the opening in the blink of an eye.
As the opening widened, the rushing air grew fiercer, finally bursting through the stairwell door.
The noise reached the Talons inside the drug factory. Those scattered throughout the factory leaped together like fleas and charged toward the stairwell.
But as the opening continued to collapse, the powerful suction that should have acted on the entire factory was concentrated in the narrow stairwell instead. The enormous localized pressure difference became a miniature tornado.
Qin Wei and Thomas Wayne still had a grappling hook to anchor them, but the Talons were not so lucky. More than a dozen in the vanguard were sucked into the stairwell, bouncing repeatedly against the walls like balls in a 3D pinball game.
Blood burst before their eyes. Even beneath the howling wind, the sharp, decisive cracks of breaking bones were enough to terrify anyone who heard them.
Qin Wei could barely breathe. All he could do now was cling to Thomas Wayne's waist and watch Talons sail overhead, plunging into the exhaust duct's raging airflow.
Predictably, they would bounce back and forth inside the duct before the blades at the outlet ground them into meat scraps.
For now, Qin Wei's plan seemed to have worked. But how should he put it? It had worked a little too well. Their situation had jumped from one extreme straight to the other.
"Now—we have to stop this damn Ventilation Fan—"