Chapter 34
The Great Hammer
Boom!Boom!Boom!
Heavy, rapid footsteps came from the direction of the stairs behind them.
Each step landed firmly on the ground, carrying a brutal impact.
The sound grew closer and louder, like a bull charging at full speed.
"Something's rushing over there! Over at the stairs!" Shimada shouted, and the other two members of the samurai sword squad immediately turned their guns around.
A strong figure emerged from the stairwell, dressed in a yellow prison uniform and wearing a helmet completely covered in sheet metal, with only a narrow slit for observation where the eyes were.
He carried a huge iron hammer on his back and held a submachine gun in his hand.
They charged forward with long strides, completely disregarding whether there was cover or not, charging straight ahead.
"Fire!" Shimada fired first.
Three men wielding samurai swords and three assault rifles fired a concentrated barrage at Thor's torso. The bullets struck him with dull thuds, and the bulletproof plates on his body could be seen vibrating.
However, his sprint only slowed down slightly, and before his helmet even turned, his submachine gun spewed fire.
Bullets splattered, hitting the cover in front of the men, ricocheting and flying wildly.
The Shimada squad was so suppressed that they could barely lift their heads. One of the samurai swordsmen tried to peek out and aim, but several 9mm bullets immediately grazed his helmet, startling him so much that he shrank back.
"What the hell are those? The warden's guards?" George shouted from the other side. "Weren't they just guards with shields before?"
Just as the men were pinned down behind cover and unable to raise their heads, gunfire erupted again from around the corner to their side.
Cole grunted and staggered backward. A large section of the Level 5 armor plate on his side was visibly dented, and the composite fibers at the edges were turned up.
"Take cover!" John roared.
Another can flew in an arc, landing right in the middle of the six-person formation.
The can hit the ground with a hiss, and a thick, pungent yellow smoke suddenly exploded out.
My vision went out, breathing became difficult, my trachea burned, and what was even worse was that my head started to spin, the scene in front of me swayed and blurred, and in addition to the gunshots and the shouts of my teammates, I started to hear a piercing tinnitus.
"Cough cough...back off! Get out of the smoke!" John shouted, coughing as he covered his mouth and nose.
Sounds are muffled in the hallucinogenic smoke. In the smoke, let alone shooting enemies, it's possible for friendly fire to occur.
The six people immediately began to back up along the corridor.
Just then, a figure emerged from the yellow smoke.
He appeared unsteadily from around the corner, wearing a creepy mask on his right cheek and scars all over the other half. He wore a gleeful, almost maniacal smile.
He was carrying a revolver in each hand, with wisps of smoke rising from the muzzles.
He didn't look at anyone, but tilted his head, looked up at the ceiling, and whistled shrilly.
As soon as they were out of the psychedelic smoke's range, John immediately gave the order.
"Fire!"
The gunfire from the six men erupted instantly, bullets raining down on the location of Raven.
Raven raised his revolver, and in that instant, two prisoners wielding sledgehammers sprang out from the yellow smoke behind him, one on each side.
They wielded their sledgehammers, deflecting whistling bullets as they rapidly advanced to the front of the six-man formation.
Boom!
Two revolver shots rang out, the bullets flying between the two hammer-wielding men, shattering the armor of the samurai sword squad members, followed by the hammers!
His head, protected by the Level 5 helmet, was smashed to pieces!
The second blow struck George's leg, completely bending his knee backward, with bone fragments piercing through his flesh and protruding from his thigh.
"Ugh!" George screamed and fell to the ground.
The rest of the men focused their fire on the two sledgehammers and their heads, bullets grazing the metal helmets, clanging and sparking!
Under the barrage of fire, several bullets pierced through the gaps in Hammer's helmet, shattering half of his head. Even so, before they fell, they ran out of bullets in their MP5 submachine guns!
Bullets flew wildly, pounding the level 5 body armor of the remaining few people, but fortunately, they did not penetrate the heavy armor's defenses.
Hank grabbed George by the collar and dragged him backward, while the laughter of ravens flickered left and right at the edge of the yellow smoke.
Two more flashes of light appeared as bullets struck the concrete wall, creating craters the size of bowls, and fragments clattered onto helmets.
They retreated with all their might to a relatively spacious corner, shaking off the yellow smoke, but the dizziness lingered.
Shimada leaned against the reception desk, breathing rapidly, trying to clear his vision.
"This isn't the warden!" Hank roared. He had seen the warden before, and nothing matched—not his attire, not his weapons, not even his guards!
Moreover, the warden would never charge like this. If the warden is like a strategist who plans every step according to his own plan, then he is a strategist who has everything under control.
The guy with the hammer who died in front of them, and the guy with the revolver, were both lunatics and psychopaths.
"Who cares! Kill him! Kill him!" John's eyes were bloodshot, and his hair stood on end.
"Throw all the props in his face! Blow him up, kill him!"
John tore a fragmentation grenade from his tactical vest, pulled the pin, held it in his hand, silently counted to two, and swung it toward the yellow fog.
They didn't care about anyone else, whether he was the warden or not; they just needed to get through this first hurdle to survive.
"Grenades! Throw them all!"
Several grenades exploded almost simultaneously inside the yellow fog.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Yellow smoke was blown away by the blast wave, and flames and shrapnel instantly engulfed that section of the corridor.
The loud explosion couldn't drown out the melodious whistling, which made John's head throb even more.
"Throw! Keep going! Blow him up, hahahahaha, blow him up!"
He frantically pulled out throwables from the ammunition rack—grenades, incendiary grenades, flashbangs—John threw them all without a care in the world.
Shimada, hiding behind cover, watched the crazed John, veins bulging on his temples, his teeth grinding together.
It was because of this kind of command by the captain that one of his team members had his head smashed.
He was about to peek out to see what was happening outside.
boom!boom!
The concrete pillar behind Shimada suddenly shook, a large chunk of concrete was chiseled open, and flying fragments hit his arms and calves like bullets.
What was even more terrifying was that when the bullet hit the pillar, the vibration transmitted through the pillar made his chest feel tight.
This startled Shimada, and he couldn't focus his eyes for a moment.
"Captain! Captain, are you alright, Captain!" His last remaining samurai swordsman crawled over from under cover to wake him up.
"Listen to John! Blow him up!"
Fear crept into his eyes, and he now deeply understood John's feelings—was it anger and impulsiveness?
That was fear!