dmims Chapter 100 The Final Act
Chapter 100 The Final Act
"A faint gunshot, he was no more than half a mile away from us, roughly in the southeast direction at three o'clock."
Freud took a Mosin-Nagant rifle from his camouflage backpack. All his weapons had been destroyed, and this one was borrowed from the old mercenary and brought to the battlefield without being tested.
Loading the bullets, silently counting to three, the Dead Shooter peered out of the air vent and then quickly pulled his gaze back.
In less than a second, a bullet fired from the shadows shattered the air vent, followed by a second bullet that drilled a hole through the metal wall.
If Floyd hadn't been experienced enough to lie down first, he would have been pierced through the heart by that pre-aimed bullet.
"His position has changed; he's now due east at the twelve o'clock position, and he's approaching us!"
Crawling on the third-floor platform, Floyd made a hand gesture indicating readiness for battle. The others then sprang into action, pulling the pins off tripwire mines, activating anti-personnel bounding mines, and disengaging their weapon safety.
The brawl began with a sharp, piercing metallic scraping sound.
Deathstroke thrust the wakizashi into the iron wall, and with each heavy footstep, the blade slowly sliced through the wall.
Slade, acting alone, seemed to have completely surrounded the group in the warehouse.
The group was so tense they forgot to breathe. If it weren't for Floyd's prior warning not to reveal the gunfire without an order, they probably would have emptied a magazine by now.
"You're really good at keeping your composure."
A soft laugh came from outside, and then the noise and footsteps disappeared at the same time, as if the death knell had not left, but had evaporated on the spot like a ghost.
A strong sense of unease permeated Qin Wei's heart. He had imagined how Deathstroke would appear—assassination, shooting—but none of them were as brazen as this. It was a blatant provocation, and at the same time, an absolute confidence in its own strength.
How strong is this guy to be so arrogant despite knowing that the other party is armed with heavy weapons?
But this suspense didn't last long.
The sudden explosion signaled the start of the battle, tearing a gaping hole in the right corner of the factory. Just as everyone turned their guns to point at the hole, Deathstroke leaped in through the window on the other side.
With a successful feint, Slade slit the throat of a Roman, Winchester twirled the lever between his fingers, and ruthlessly shoved a bullet into the throat of another man.
Two people were killed instantly, and the others didn't even have time to turn their guns back.
Of course, wary of Freud who might be lurking at a high point, he didn't linger in one spot for long. He ran around the court along the corners of the walls, betting his jagged, round darts on every person in sight.
Bang bang bang!
Floyd fired a burst of shots, the bolt nearly sparking, but he only managed to stop three darts, temporarily saving Qin Wei, Oswald, and Selena.
Little did he know that this was a little trick Deathstroke used to lure him out of his location.
The instant he located the gunshot, Slade lowered his center of gravity, touched the ground with his toes, leaped high into the air, grabbed the second-floor railing, and swung his body high into the air like a gymnast.
His speed was so fast, coupled with his unpredictable movements, that no one but Freud could hit him.
Slade, in mid-air, sneered, glanced at the sparks flying behind him, and fired several shots at Floyd, who was pulling the pin, completely sealing off any chance of a counterattack.
As the deadshot scrambled to avoid the bullets, Slade had already jumped in front of him.
"I told you I'd kill you last, but until then, you'd better lie on the floor and bleed!"
Slade pushed the gun barrel aside, pulled out the wedge, and stabbed Floyd in the abdomen.
Just as the blade ripped through the armor, a powerful hand gripped his wrist tightly.
Jason arrived just in time and drew his pistol without hesitation and fired.
Slade wasn't unaware of Jason, but he underestimated the latter's strength. That hand was so powerful and strong, like a hydraulic clamp, that it nearly snapped his wrist.
But Slade, a seasoned veteran, shattered Jason's shinbone with a single kick, then pulled out a pistol with his other hand and casually ripped a bloody hole in Jason's thick arm.
Just as Deathstroke pulled his wrist to finish off Floyd in the head, Floyd, who had been stunned by the shot, finally recovered and tackled Slade to the ground.
The wounded Jason was unable to fight any longer, but he still mustered his last breath and tore off Deathstroke's tactical belt, disarming the latter of his pistol and darts.
With a single elbow strike, Deathstroke sent the persistent Freud flying, his expression turning grim.
It has to be said that these guys' abilities far exceeded his expectations. He thought Floyd would be the most difficult one to deal with, but it turns out they were all troublemakers.
When did so many ruthless characters emerge in tiny Gotham City?
However, the goddess of victory still stood shining brightly behind Slade. Less than a minute after entering the warehouse, Deathstroke had already taken down two people without taking any damage. Even though his tactical belt had been taken away, he still had the longsword and Winchester behind him.
Come on, come on, let me see what other tricks you have up your sleeve!
Drawing his longsword, he cleaved the incoming bullets, and Deathstroke raised his blade toward the unconscious Freud.
"Slade Wilson!"
A furious roar nailed the death knell to the spot.
He could hardly believe he was hearing his own name from a stranger.
It was as if someone had ripped open the deepest secret in his heart; no wonder the seasoned mercenary stood there dumbfounded like a greenhorn.
Oswald, suddenly appearing from the corner, fired a burst of bullets from his rifle.
Seeing the death knell with its bursting flames was like a slumber; though he managed to roll away in time, he was still grazed on the shoulder by a bullet.
Taking this opportunity, Qin Wei pressed the hook and flew up to the third floor.
After listening to Freud's story, Qin Wei learned that the name was the absolute secret of the mercenary. He originally wanted to save this "soul-calling technique" for a critical moment, but in order to save Freud and Jason, he could not care about that anymore.
"How do you know my name!"
Slade's interest had now completely shifted to Qin Wei, who was hiding behind a steel pillar, loading bullets into Winchester's head one by one.
"Curious? Your brain's not working properly, is it? Then just cut it off, that way you won't have to think about it!"
The instant he landed, Qin Wei flicked his wrist and secretly threw out two grenades.
A flash of light obstructs vision, a shrapnel block movement. Deathstroke is hiding in the corner; barring any unforeseen circumstances, he'll inevitably be hit.
He had envisioned several possible responses from the opposing side, but he never expected that Deathstroke would abandon his cover.
The blade lashed the ground, sparks streaking across a bright arc. Slade laughed maniacally as he sliced through the grenade, charging forward amidst a shower of shrapnel.
Qin Wei's provocative words ignited the mercenary's killing intent. Deathstroke usually only wielded his blade for his employer, but this time was an exception.
Even if it's just for his own selfish desires, Slade can't let someone who knows his true identity live.