Too late.
Several people were sent flying, bones snapping with crisp, horrifying cracks. Then they hit the ground.
Some lost consciousness on the spot. Others coughed up blood nonstop. But in conditions this brutal, being struck by a vehicle meant only one outcome.
Death.
Besides, there were no doctors around to save them.
The G–Class surged forward–then suddenly stopped. It reversed, accelerated again, and plowed straight back into the crowd.
The air was filled with screams of terror.
More people were hurled away. Others seized the moment, swinging clubs and sledgehammers wildly at the car.
Ray sneered. Dozens of bullets flew out silently, and in an instant, a large swath of the crowd collapsed.
Even though the car had been modified and its defenses greatly reinforced, Ray still didn’t want it damaged.
What if something went wrong?
The G–Class rampaged through the mass of people, bullets from his otherworldly storage space working in perfect coordination.
Bodies fell in clusters. The others had no idea that most of them were killed by gunfire–they assumed everyone had been mowed down by the car.
In that kind of chaos, who had the presence of mind to notice how someone died?
Wailing and screaming, the remaining residents fled toward the buildings, wishing they’d been born with two extra legs.
But the ground outside was slick with ice. The faster they ran, the more likely they were to slip. And once they fell, any exposed skin scraping across the frozen surface sent piercing pain straight through their bodies, making them howl.
Minutes later, the survivors had all retreated indoors.
Outside, more than a hundred corpses littered the ground.
Ray deliberately revved the engine, letting its thunderous roar proclaim his presence. Only then did the G-Class roll forward and return to the villa.
As for the survivors? They trembled uncontrollably.
In their eyes, Ray was now even more vicious than the people from Building 4.
After all, Building 4 was a group.
Ray was just one man. One man with this level of lethality and destructive power–what it there were more like him?
“What do we do?” No one had an answer.
Threats didn’t work. Ray ignored them. Blocking his path only led to him mowing people down without hesitation:
They were out of options.
“Release the people from Building, 4. Let them tear into Ray like rabid dogs,” Harry said through clenched teeth His son–in–law had just been run over and killed by Ray.
“But the people from Building 4 aren’t good either,” someone said anxiously.
Chapter 159
+25 Bonus
“Then do you want to starve to death?” Harry snapped coldly. “Let Building 4 and Ray fight it out. That’s our only chance to survive. Otherwise, we’re just waiting to die.”
Wrapped in thick quilts, the group made their way to Building 4.
“We can let you out,” Harry shouted through a loudspeaker, “but you have to agree to a few conditions!”
A window slid open. Jon’s face appeared, wearing a chilling smile. “Oh? Let’s hear them.”
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