Impulse

The boots splashed water as they stepped on the wet, slippery prison floor.

John was at the front of the line. The ceramic plate of his Level 5 bulletproof vest slammed against the iron gate with a loud bang, smashing the gate open.

Without stopping for a moment, he charged forward with his rifle in hand.

The two Bald Eagles players behind, Cole and George, exchanged a glance, sighed, and quickened their pace to catch up.

Seeing that the direction they were heading was getting increasingly wrong, and that John was accelerating without any intention of stopping to rest or scout ahead, they realized that John was not going to stop.

Shimada finally couldn't resist and ran to the front of the line to call out to John.

"Captain John, Captain John!"

"What the hell are you doing?" John stopped and turned around, glaring at him angrily.

"Captain John? This is the direction we're heading towards the prison. Shouldn't we scout ahead? You're moving too fast, too..."

"Too much?" John interrupted angrily.

"Last time, it was because of you Japanese, you gluttons like pigs! Do you think we'd be in this situation today? So what if we went to jail? You want to run away again? Let me tell you, if you dare to hold us back again, the United States will definitely not forgive you!"

"No...no, I meant to remind you to do some scouting to avoid being ambushed by the warden!" Shimada got angry at being pointed at and scolded like that, but he didn't dare to retaliate.

Japan still dares not offend the United States because of its prestige.

"Scout what?" John gritted his teeth. "Six men! Five heads and five armored soldiers! What are you afraid of? Kill them on sight!"

He was holding back his anger, and his voice was very sharp.

"Damn it, where are the Koreans? Where are those Koreans? They were just standing there pretending to be friendly when they came in!"

"I can't see anyone when I come in!" John looked around, and none of the five people present dared to look up and meet his gaze, all afraid of igniting this powder keg.

"That ragged outfit! FxxK!" he cursed, spitting all over the ground. "After this operation, if I ever run into their people in a dangerous area again, I'll make sure they all get lost!"

"There's movement on the left," Cole suddenly said.

John didn't even look: "Forget the noise, charge over there!"

John rushed out and saw two prisoners in yellow uniforms. He opened fire immediately, and the two prisoners returned fire.

Bullets rained down on his level 5 armor, but he didn't make any tactical maneuvers; he just stood there and fired.

John instantly killed the two prisoners. "Wasting my time," he said viciously. Not satisfied, he went over and shot them a few more times in the head.

John led his team forward, walking up to the second floor of the prison, to the spot where the warden had previously ambushed their group.

As they approached, John regained his composure, lined up the ranks one by one, and ordered the samurai sword squad to move to the front while he went to the middle of the line.

But after looking around, there wasn't a warden here, not even one of those shield bearers.

"Where are they?" John asked, puzzled. "Why isn't there a single prison guard here?"

"Captain, there's gunfire everywhere. Maybe they've moved to another area to exchange fire?"

John glanced at Cole and nodded.

"Let's go! We'll head to the medical lab and crack the gate switch!"

"Once the floodgates are closed, we won't have trouble finding the warden!"

The six then changed direction and moved towards the core area.

As they approached the core area, the noise of gunfire decreased significantly. It wasn't until they reached the U-shaped corridor outside the medical laboratory that they heard gunfire coming from the first floor of the administrative area.

First came two brief shots, followed by the sound of fully automatic rifle fire.

After two more muffled gunshots, the rifle fire stopped.

"Is there a firefight over there?" Shimada asked his katana squad members in a deep voice.

"Captain, that gunshot isn't right! It doesn't sound like a rifle, more like a pistol..." He paused, then continued, "...a revolver?"

"A revolver?" Shimada frowned; this information was rather intriguing.

My teammate is very good at gathering intelligence, and he is almost always right about gunshots.

However, almost no players would use a revolver to enter dangerous areas, while the NPCs all use bison.

Should we share this information with the Americans?

I only thought about it for a moment before dismissing the idea. I couldn't explain it clearly, and I knew that telling John would only result in being insulted.

"Let's wait and see," Shimada said, nodding slowly.

Hearing the gunshots not far away, John, unusually, did not rush over directly, but led his team to approach slowly.

John stopped charging around not because he realized something was wrong with the gunshots, but simply because this place brought back unpleasant memories; he still vividly remembered the pain of having his pedicure done.

The six people approached slowly and quietly, and then stood on the second-floor corridor looking down.

Inside the administrative hall, the bodies of many prison guards and prisoners lay scattered about.

"That one!" George couldn't help but raise his voice slightly, "That's a player!"

Following the direction George was pointing, they saw a corpse with its head blown off near a side door. Judging from its attire and weapon, it was indeed a player.

"The Hibiscus Club!" Shimada said. "That broken Level 3 helmet, it's definitely them."

"Serves him right! A piece of trash like him dares to come in wearing a level 3 helmet! He's gone crazy for money!" John cursed through gritted teeth.

"Could it be... the warden?"

No one answered this question.

A melodious whistle echoed throughout the entire prison from the administrative hall.

The tune is old, like a pop song from decades ago, melodious and steady, like a song hummed by someone taking a walk.

The six people looked down from the second-floor corridor.

Large plumes of yellow smoke drifted through the lobby on the first floor.

The moment John saw the smoke, he instinctively covered his head and quickly crouched down. He had seen the warden do this several times before, and he was terrified.

The others were a beat slower, but they reacted immediately and crouched behind cover.

"Fire! We have six guns, surely we can kill him?" John ordered, but no one dared to show their face.

Just as John was thinking about leading by example,

"Chaos has begun!"

Then, maniacal laughter echoed throughout the space.

"Is this the warden?" Cole's expression twisted. He had seen the warden before, though he had been instantly killed by Cole's jump pull.

But that voice, that style, was completely different. It sounded more like a madman than a warden's.

"The curtain rises! A funeral turned into a celebration! Hahahaha!"

The glass of the arcade was then smashed, and two projectiles were thrown up.

The six were startled. Why would they throw props?

The group lay down simultaneously, but the expected explosion did not occur; instead, yellow smoke burst out around them.

Blurred vision, dizziness, visual and auditory hallucinations...

"Cough cough! It's poisonous... Quick! Get out of here!"

The group shakily got to their feet and scrambled away from the smoke-covered corridor.

Boom!

Two shots whistled past, but fortunately they were fired from the first floor upwards and did not hit directly.

Even in their auditory hallucinations, they heard heavy running footsteps approaching them.

Shimada turned around and saw a burly prisoner in a yellow shirt and wearing a helmet charging upwards...