Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

ended.

Even if one feels no sense of belonging to this family, witnessing the collapse of the edifice from the perspective of an outsider still evokes a profound feeling.

He didn't think Hector had even the slightest chance of winning. Even if time were turned back forty years, the outcome wouldn't change if the twenty-two-year-old Hector faced the current Zhang Renfeng. Not to mention that after conquering his own territory, Zhang Renfeng started to let himself go and enjoy life. He was too lazy to even go hunting, let alone fire a gun.

His personal intervention now is simply a final boost to the already crumbling morale. After all, having operated for so long, there will always be some gang members who have unconditional trust and admiration for the "Zorael" name. Once these people see that Hector is now just a frail old man who could be blown apart by the recoil at any moment, this charade will be over.

The key wasn't him, but Laro: what he could foresee, he certainly could too. The moment Hector reclaimed control of the battlefield from him, Laro already saw the destruction of his family, and he must have been prepared for it.

"Given that guy's personality, he'll most likely time it perfectly, detonating the explosives the moment they breach their defenses, occupy the mansion, and revel in their victory."

Igor knew his brothers, especially Laro, quite well. He began frantically searching for anything usable, turning the room upside down, and finally found only a pencil in a corner and a crevice in the table.

The nib had long since broken off; after blowing off the dust, it still barely retained the shape of a pencil.

"If I had known it would turn out like this, I should have learned how to pick locks from Alana. Damn it... this is the only way."

Igor gritted his teeth, gripped the bottle neck tightly in his hand, took a deep breath, and walked towards the door lock.

He had no other choice now. For his own sake, and for the Red Center gang's, he couldn't afford to sit idly by any longer. He had to stop Laro before he detonated the explosives and created a happy ending just for himself!

As for whether there are guards in the corridor at the entrance, and how many there are... well, that's up to fate.

"Boom!!"

Just as he was inserting the pencil into the keyhole, intending to fiddle with it, a muffled thud suddenly came, as if something heavy had hit the door.

Igor was startled and quickly shrank back. After a while, when he heard no more strange noises, he cautiously reached out and tentatively pushed the object.

The wooden door was pushed open, and something was squeezed in.

Upon closer inspection, it was a corpse lying on the ground, its throat slit shut, a swift and decisive death.

It's clear that whoever suggested locking himself up here didn't believe he could escape. Security was extremely lax; only one person was assigned to guard him. All the available manpower had been redeployed to the front lines to fight the Red Center Gang. This unfortunate fellow probably never imagined that even a job as a gatekeeper could cost him his life.

Looking around, the corridor was empty; there wasn't a single person in sight.

"I don't know who helped me, but... thank you!" Igor knew who it was and said to the air around him, "When I become powerful in the future, I will definitely repay them tenfold."

Having said that, he didn't linger, but hurried towards the council chamber—a hall with a row of bookshelves against the wall.

Among them was a red-covered book, which, when pulled out, would unlock a hidden door leading directly to the underground passage used for their escape. Hector enjoyed tinkering with these mysterious and intriguing things, but he had to admit that this underground tunnel leading to Mexico was one of the few truly useful items in his vast collection.

The underground space is vast; there is no more suitable place to place explosives.

……

The empty corridors and rooms, with their lavish interiors, create a stark contrast with the vast emptiness, almost a dark humor, that evokes a strong sense of unease. It's like something out of a ghost story, a long-abandoned noble castle where something might suddenly leap out from a corner at any moment.

During the day, they were arguing fiercely in this council hall, but now it's deserted and there's not a soul in sight.

Only the dagger remained stuck in the chair Hector had sat in, seemingly silently recounting everything it had witnessed.

“Heh, it’s still there…” Igor’s lips twitched into a strange smile. He picked up the knife handle and pulled the blade that had sunk into the chair back out again.

With a snap, the dagger was so sharp that it almost cut his hand.

If he could, he wouldn't want to come to that point, but reason told him that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Since that was the case, he couldn't face his fate empty-handed. With weapons in hand, he could choose whether to use them or not, but without them, at the moment of life and death, he would become a lamb to the slaughter.

After studying it for a while, he quickly figured out Tao's design concept, pressed the blade back onto the hilt, and with a click, it fit perfectly, just like a bullet being chambered.

Igor took a deep breath, closed his eyes, opened them again, and resolutely walked towards the bookshelf.

----

"Watch out! A grenade—!!"

"boom----!!"

……

Hector's thinking wasn't fundamentally flawed. He simply hadn't realized that the enemy, having fought their way to his location, must be armed with far more sophisticated weapons. These makeshift artificial shelters might hold out against ordinary bullets for a while, but once they started raining down grenades, they'd be largely ineffective.

The chief skillfully swung the sling, sending a grenade in an elegant parabola over the cover and into the Thunder Gang's ranks.

He timed the explosion perfectly, giving them only time to scream and panic, but no chance to escape.

The next moment, they were engulfed by flames and explosions.

……

Hector personally directed... or rather, supervised the battle from the second floor. But he soon discovered that his carefully arranged firing positions were completely useless. Almost the instant the fighting began, anyone who peeked out was accurately headshot.

If Bill hadn't reacted quickly enough to press his head down and force him to lie prone, a bullet would be lodged in his brain right now. The intense attack and explosion left him dizzy, unable to tell if this was reality or a nightmare.

He saw his cousin lying beside him—a bearded man with the same surname, Zolael, who shared his bloodline and had fought alongside him in the past. They had weathered countless dangers together, yet on this battlefield, he hadn't even survived thirty seconds, shot in the head. The expression frozen on his face was one of resentment and horror.

"Where's Byron? Where's Lalo? Where have they all gone!" Hector shouted. "Go, Bill, go and fetch them!"

“…” Bill looked at him without saying a word.

"Damn it! Wasn't it... eight people?" Hector took a sip of his drink, calmed down slightly, and leaned against the reinforced wooden planks of the fence, muttering to himself, "There are eight fucking people?!"

Chapter 396: Like a Demon Lord Descending from Heaven

“Il Ilan. Lucifer Izcanan.” Bill, who was always silent, suddenly spoke. His voice was even worse than Hector’s, so hoarse that it was almost unrecognizable unless one strained their voice.

After much effort, he finally revealed Mike and Calaway's real names.

"What?" Hector asked, puzzled.

“These two men were Jack’s men twenty years ago, and now they’re both gunmen under Red Center.” Bill glanced at the gang members lying on the ground, shot in the head, and whispered, “Jack’s gang produces sharpshooters. They’re the ones who did this.”

"Jack's Gang!?" Hector's eyes widened in surprise. "Weren't they all killed by Daddy?"

Bill said in a deep voice, "The only person Dad killed with his own hands was Jack A. Elfelt, the leader of the Jack Gang."

"Most of the other gang members lost their protection after the gang disbanded, but they still wanted to go to the mountains to get the money. In the end, they were ambushed and killed by Pinkerton detectives. But some smart ones chose to leave early and use their last bit of time to get out of Pinkerton detectives' sight... These two are examples of that."

"What's the point of saying all this now?" Hector waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away flies. "Will this help me win?"

“…” Bill was silent for a while, but the silence couldn’t last long amidst the whistling of bullets.

“You didn’t understand me, Hector. You can’t win.” Bill met his gaze and spoke again. “Look around you, nobody thinks you can win. You’ve been sitting in your mansion for too long; you have no idea what’s going on outside.”

"Your dwarf son is absolutely right. If you don't want to be humiliated to death by those you've always trampled underfoot, escape is your only chance. Go to Mexico; even if you don't start over, at least leave yourself with some dignity..."

"Hector—!!!"

A roar filled with rage came from directly below.

As the target drew closer, Theon could no longer contain his rage. He pulled out a pistol loaded with high-explosive shotgun shells and fired a single shot, shattering the person in his path into fragments of blood and fire.

“I am Theon Mislandil…”

He removed the spent cartridge with one hand, loaded a new bullet, and roared, "Give me back my brother's life!"

"I don't even know you, you bastard!" Hector was furious and was about to shout something in retaliation when Bill behind him suddenly changed his expression and pounced on him, knocking him to the ground.

……

"Boom————!!!"

A long sword flew in, its immense mass and speed cleaving a crack in the wooden planks outside the fence. Its kinetic energy remained undiminished, carving its way through the fence, shattering the glass, and incidentally killing an unfortunate henchman, before embedding itself securely in the second-floor wall.

“…Oh God, this weight…”

Bill looked at the large, metallic-looking sword that seemed to have fallen from the sky, grasped the hilt, and tried to remove it from the wall, but to no avail.

too heavy.

Recalling how Hongzhong walked and spoke as if he were an ordinary person, carrying the knife in his right hand, without any sign of its weight, Bill felt a cold sweat trickle down his forehead.

Hector's arrogance was finally shattered by this unexpected attack, his face turning deathly pale. If Bill hadn't tackled him in time, that blade would have struck him instead, and the consequences... well...

The younger brother lying on the ground was the best proof; his body was ripped open like a child's haphazardly cut artwork. Blood was flowing incessantly, bones were broken, pupils were dilated, and only his limbs remained, still twitching reflexively.

"The main gate is about to be breached, I have to... I must go back immediately to take command..." Composing himself, Hector tried to raise his voice, but his throat felt tight and dry, and he couldn't even utter a word. "Hold the line, hold the line!"

Although... on the same floor as him, almost all that remained were corpses.

It's unclear who this phrase, "hold the line," is meant for.

----

"They've blocked the door!" The first one rushed forward, pushed twice but couldn't open it. Theon gritted his teeth, somewhat losing control, and fired two shots at the door lock, yelling, "Damn it! You bunch of cowards, get out here!"

"Calm down, Theon, you're too close!" Mike grabbed his wrist. "Watch out for stray bullets!"

“…I’m sorry…” Theon exhaled deeply and said in a low voice, “I…”

“Don’t let anger consume you, my friend,” the chief patted him on the shoulder, speaking earnestly. “Leave it to your enemies.”

"Everyone, don't gather in front of the door, move back a bit." Zhang Renfeng waved his hand and shouted, "If that's not enough, move to the side a little more."

"This is our first time 'paying a visit,' how can we be impolite?" He stretched his neck, a smile still on his face, clearly not taking the remaining Thunder Fury Gang members seriously. "Let me knock on the door!"

……

"Quickly, quickly! Get moving, reinforce the gate, hurry up!"

Once inside the house, Hector directed the remaining men on the second floor. Tables, chairs, wardrobes… like ants carrying food, anything large was brought out and used to block the door. These things were necessary for reinforcement, preventing Theon's two shots from penetrating the door and causing further casualties.

Hector's expression remained gloomy as he watched the defenses being gradually reinforced.

His favorite wines were on a shelf nearby, but in the current situation, he couldn't even afford to take a sip. A quick glance told him something was wrong.

"Where are they? There are only a few people here. Where did everyone go?"

He asked around, but no one answered, and no one even glanced in his direction.

An army's defeat is like a house of cards collapsing; it's such a simple truth, everyone's smart enough to see it. The enemy's main force is nowhere to be seen, yet with just eight men, they're about to break through your frontal lines. The authority the Zolael family has built up over decades has been shattered in that instant.

Having lost his authority, Hector was no longer the all-powerful local tyrant, but just a little old man whom nobody cared about.

……

"what--!!"

Hector was unwilling to lose everything. Like a drowning man, he desperately tried to grasp at a straw to show that he was still a big shot here.

He roared, drew his revolver, grabbed one of his henchmen who was running past, pressed the barrel against his head, and demanded, "I'm asking you a question, are you all deaf? Where are they? There should be eighty people in the house, where did they all go?"

"They're all...they're all gone..." the younger brother stammered, finally uttering the answer, "They climbed through the window, or through the side door..."

“Traitors! A bunch of despicable traitors!” Hector shoved him away, spinning around in anger, clutching his hair and gritting his teeth as he said, “They have to be brought back and publicly executed with Columbia ties! Where has loyalty gone these days? To the graveyard!”

"You! The rest of you, don't just stand there, get the gate reinforced!"

The successive blows made the 62-year-old man increasingly irrational. Waving his revolver, he hysterically shouted, "Use everything you can, I refuse to believe it..."

……

"boom------!!!"

There was a loud bang.

The door panel was blasted open by a tremendous force and broke off directly from the door frame.

The heavy objects that had been pressing down on the door scattered like petals from a fairy's shower. Those who were near the door were undoubtedly the most unlucky; even a slight brush or bump could break bones or tendons, and in more serious cases, they would lie there immediately.

The door panel, already embedded in the wall, abruptly cut off Hector's words. Red Center had shown him, in a remarkably direct way, why his proud "younger generations" had fallen one after another.

Amidst the smoke and dust, Zhang Renfeng slowly walked in. The changing angles of light and shadow cast a huge, god-like silhouette of him in the mist.

Hector stared in disbelief as he shattered everything in his path.

Chapter 397: Burn them to death!

Following the stone-paved stairs down, Igor didn't see a single guard, only clusters of lit torches.

At least these newly lit torches prove that he has not gone astray.

At the end of the passage, in a narrow underground stone hall, Igor saw everything he had expected.

The explosives, which almost filled the entire space, were stored in boxes and piled up into small mountains.

Besides that, there were several dusty tables and chairs with various tools on them. Perhaps someone had come down to repair something more than ten years ago, but now it doesn't matter anymore.

No fuse is needed; just a tiny spark would be enough to trigger a massive explosion! It would blast this place, along with the mansion above it, into pieces!

And there was Laro, surrounded by them, showing no fear whatsoever, even sitting directly on the explosives box. At that moment, he was crossing his legs, reading a letter, only showing a slight expression of surprise when he looked up and met Ego's eyes.

"Brother?" Laro's eyes widened slightly. "Who let you out?"