Close Combat

"Scatter!" The bald eagle squad leader immediately reacted and shouted.

But in the narrow corridor, there wasn't enough space for them to immediately create distance between themselves.

They were forced to retreat, but fortunately, the pursuers behind them had not yet caught up.

"Remember to keep your distance and don't give the warden a chance to get close," the squad leader immediately instructed.

"I'll cover you." One of the Bald Eagles climbed to a high point, the only spot in the area where they could create some distance.

He switched to his secondary weapon from his backpack; it was an R93.

Although the Bald Eagle Society didn't provide much funding for this operation, they had reviewed previous recordings.

They thought it was like when John killed the warden.

Even a sniper rifle can still give them a significant advantage when facing the warden.

The squad leader and another team member could only set up their guns behind cover on the ground.

Although they couldn't create that much distance and didn't have the advantage of being high up, at least the warden wouldn't be able to get close to them immediately.

Tap, tap, tap.

The hard soles of the shoes struck the ground with a crisp sound.

The sound of firm, powerful footsteps approached from afar.

A burst of music with rapid drumbeats came from that direction.

The squad leader nervously swallowed. "He...he didn't manage to push me down?"

Only then did they realize something was wrong: the pursuers behind them hadn't carried them up, and the warden in front of them hadn't rushed over immediately.

It was as if they were letting them set up their formation.

Then the warden slowly walked into the line of fire between the three of them.

"Come out, stop resisting," came the deep voice from behind the mask, calm as if narrating something insignificant.

"A trap has been set up here; you can't escape."

"Fire!!" Three gunshots erupted toward the doorway where the warden was located.

At the same time, a smoke grenade exploded beneath the figure's feet, instantly filling the air with black mist.

"Stop! Stop right now! Get back to cover! Don't show yourselves!" the squad leader ordered as soon as the smoke grenade dissipated.

He had seen this tactic before; barring any unforeseen circumstances, the warden would walk through the smoke grenades and the bullets would hit them directly in the head.

All they can do now is wait quietly behind their bunkers for the smoke to clear.

After they retreated into their cover, they could no longer hear any footsteps or gunfire.

All you could hear was the booming music, the drumbeats echoing in your ears.

The two people on the ground simultaneously shrank deeper into the bunker, their shoulders pressed against the wall behind them.

The captain turned his head to the side, pressing the edge of his mask against his earpiece: "What did you see from up there?"

"It's all smoke, you can't see a single person."

Smoke was still billowing out, creeping along the corridor ceiling. All the captain could see was a cloud of black smoke; his crosshair was pointing in the direction of the smoke, but he couldn't see anything.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Left!" The bald eagle squad leader vaguely sensed some movement on the left.

He immediately threw the gun over.

"Damn, where is everyone?" The captain was stunned for a moment, but saw nothing.

Watch out behind you—!

The captain felt a gust of wind brush past him as soon as the sniper on the high ground shouted.

He didn't see anyone, but he saw another teammate on the ground tilt his head to the side and fly sideways from behind the cover, crashing into the opposite wall.

The warden was standing where the deputy captain had just been squatting.

The hand was still gripping the vice-captain's neck, lifting him off the wall and slamming him to the ground.

His gun flew two meters away, and he twitched on the ground, trying to roll over, when the warden's boot stepped on his chest.

The captain couldn't utter a single word. He turned the gun around and pulled the trigger all the way down.

The muzzle flash of the M4 exploded in the corridor, and spent cartridges clattered and bounced out, hitting the ground.

The warden rolled to the side, dodging all the bullets in Captain Bald Eagle's magazine.

He was stunned when he emptied a magazine of bullets, his finger still on the trigger, the bolt already cocked and clicking in vain.

At this moment, the warden had already come to a position a few steps in front of the squad leader.

The warden walked towards him step by step, his footsteps matching the beat of the music.

The squad leader immediately took out a spare magazine from the magazine and replaced it with spare ammunition. The warden had already arrived.

The hand wearing a red glove reached out, fingers spread, and grabbed the muzzle of the M4.

The bullets hit his palm; only three shots were fired.

The gun barrel was completely blocked, and no more bullets could be fired.

The captain saw that the hand was clenched tightly, the muzzle of the gun held firmly in his palm, not moving an inch, and wisps of white smoke were coming out.

"you……"

The captain opened his mouth, but only managed to squeeze out one word.

The warden didn't let him finish the second word.

The hand loosened its grip on the gun barrel, clenched into a fist, and swung it up, smashing the fist into his chin.

The captain jerked his head to the right, and his goggles flew off. Everything went black before his eyes, and he immediately felt his consciousness fading.

Before the back of his head even hit the ground, a hand was shoved into his mouth.

With two fingers, hook them around his lower jaw and pull him outwards forcefully.

With a snap, his jaw dislocated, his mouth couldn't close, and saliva dripped down the corners of his mouth.

The two fingers twirled around in his mouth, finding his left molar, the innermost one. The fingernail dug into the tooth and pried upwards.

The molar was broken off, along with half of the root, and was thrown on the ground, covered in blood.

"Bang!"

Gunshots rang out from above.

The warden didn't move. The bullet came from his left. He turned his head slightly, and the bullet grazed his ear and hit the wall behind him.

He saw the warden looking at him.

The warden stood there, holding the captain's chin with one hand. The captain was slumped at his feet, blood flowing from his mouth.

"Try firing another shot."

The sniper's finger was on the trigger, but he didn't pull it.

His throat went dry, and he swallowed. The crosshairs in the scope were still pressed against the warden's head, which remained motionless, facing him directly.

"Shoot...shoot!" the captain's shout came from below. His jaw was dislocated, and his words were slurred and mixed with blood and foam. "Shoot! Kill him!"

The sniper gritted his teeth and finally pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The bullet flew out.

The warden glanced slightly at the bullet.

The bullet flew past the left side of his mask, grazing his cheekbone, less than two centimeters away.

"You've got guts," the warden hissed.

The sniper then saw the figure flash through the scope and disappear from the middle of the corridor.

He raised the muzzle of his gun slightly to look for it, but couldn't find it. He raised it again, but still couldn't find it.

He looked away from the scope and looked directly with his naked eye.

The corridor was empty, with only the captain lying in place and the vice-captain leaning against the wall. The warden was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did he go?" the sniper wondered, when he heard the sound of footsteps on metal getting closer and closer.

The warden traversed the platform, which was several meters high, as if walking on flat ground.

The next moment he had already jumped onto the platform he was on.

The sniper dropped his sniper rifle and grabbed the rifle from his chest.

Before the gun sling could even be slung off his shoulder, the warden was already in front of him.

He swung his fist and smashed it right in the middle of his stomach.

When the fist slammed down, there was a muffled thud, and all the bulletproof plates shattered, but they couldn't stop the penetrating power of that punch.

His stomach felt like it had been squeezed and twisted, all the air in his lungs was squeezed out, and he couldn't utter a sound.

He knelt down straight down, not even feeling the pain.

He just wanted to vomit; his stomach was cramping, and acid was rising in his throat, but he couldn't vomit anything. He could only dry heave, one gurgle after another, his whole body convulsing.

The warden stood before him, looking down at him quietly.