Chapter Forty-One: God of Slaughter Mode

“Damn, someone’s shooting!” A sudden scream rang out from inside the factory. Immediately after, a man fired desperately toward the entrance in retaliation.

Darkness is the root of all fear. In absolute blackness, one’s spirit is put to the ultimate test. At last, someone couldn’t hold back and called out, “Boss, is that Liu Jingye? Has he brought people with him?”

No one answered. The gunshots just now made it clear: however many had come, they were armed and deadly, and they were certainly not on the same side.

Originally, they had hidden themselves, taking advantage of the perfect time and place, hoping to instill fear in Liu Jingye. But now, with a single shot and the lights extinguished, terror had swept over them instead.

Someone snapped, firing three shots at the main door. All of them struck the steel door, sending sparks flying.

But what stood out even more was the muzzle flash from his gun—blazing and unmistakable in the dark.

Liu Jingye seized the opportunity, darting to the doorway and firing a shot.

A scream echoed out, and a figure crashed heavily to the ground.

Riding the moment, Liu Jingye rushed into the factory, taking cover behind a machine. Inside, chaos erupted. Someone shouted, “Old Fourth, Old Fourth, are you alright?”

There was no reply. The boss’s voice followed: “Liu Jingye, is that you?”

Liu Jingye didn’t answer. Instead, he suddenly fired twice into the air. The bullets struck the iron scaffolding above, showering sparks.

By that weak metallic glow, Liu Jingye sharply spotted a gunman crouched on the overhead crane. He burst out, diving low across the floor. In that instant, he raised his hand and fired—a groan, and the man on the crane tumbled down, body cracking and breaking with a sickening sound that echoed in every heart, thickening the sense of dread.

Rolling forward nimbly, Liu Jingye found cover behind another machine. But to his surprise, there was someone crouching right at his feet.

The man was startled to see a shadow suddenly appear; their eyes met, both glinting in the dark.

Liu Jingye reacted instantly. He struck with his steel pistol, smashing it into the man’s temple. The man grunted and collapsed, unconscious.

“Man, this guy’s really unlucky,” Liu Jingye couldn’t help but think, almost amused at the poor soul who’d stumbled into his path.

In a matter of moments, he’d taken out three men, a reaper in the darkness, harvesting lives and spreading terror.

Tension thickened in the blackness, the scent of blood beginning to seep through the air. Each man was strung tight with fear.

The remaining gunmen were shaken to the core—the tide had turned so quickly, and they were left at a loss.

“Liu Jingye, if you’re a real man, show yourself!” The boss, forcing a calm he didn’t feel, tried to provoke him. “We have no grudge, it’s just business. Complete the deal and you and your companion can leave safely.”

Liu Jingye still didn’t respond, instead silently pinpointing the voice, readying himself to deliver a fatal blow.

A moment ago, they’d warned one another not to underestimate Liu Jingye. All their preparations and plans had seemed flawless. Yet they had overlooked one crucial fact: the hostage.

“If one of them had kept hold of Yuan Xiaoying the whole time, maybe they could have influenced me,” Liu Jingye thought with a cold smile. “But this so-called transaction is just a lie. They want to scatter, ambush me in the dark, kill me, take the formula, and then silence Yuan Xiaoying.”

So, Liu Jingye showed them no mercy.

Meanwhile, Yuan Xiaoying’s emotions were running high. Though she couldn’t see what was happening, she could tell from the sounds—someone had come to save her, casting fear into the hearts of these criminals. The oppressive atmosphere was spreading.

“Is it really Liu Jingye? Where did he get a gun?” Yuan Xiaoying’s thoughts raced. “Did he come alone to rescue me? Is this terrifying killing intent—the kind that makes armed men tremble—really coming from that unremarkable country innkeeper?”

The vast factory grew quiet again. There were three left: the boss and two others, both silent, clearly cunning and dangerous. Liu Jingye reminded himself to be cautious.

He glanced at the unfortunate man lying at his feet, blood streaming from his head, unconscious. Liu Jingye dragged him up, found a lighter in his pocket, and set his clothes alight, propping him up against a lathe.

The burning clothing became a beacon in the darkness, turning the poor man into a living target. From both sides, gunfire erupted. Liu Jingye seized the moment, taking down the man on the left with a single shot. The man didn’t even groan, though his finger squeezed the trigger one last time as he fell, the bullet landing dangerously near Yuan Xiaoying.

She shrieked, “Hey! If you’re going to shoot, aim properly! I’m innocent, you know!”

Liu Jingye was speechless, amazed at this woman’s spirit even now.

Her outburst, however, gave the terrified criminals a sliver of hope. The boss called out, “Cover me, brother!”

No answer. Of their team, only the boss and one other remained. Now it was clear: Liu Jingye was using muzzle flashes to locate targets in the dark, hitting them with deadly accuracy. Who dared expose themselves?

The boss, sensing his companion’s hesitation, shouted, “Don’t hesitate! If we don’t act, we’re both dead. You cover me; I’ll grab the hostage. It’s our only chance!”

“Damn!” Liu Jingye cursed inwardly. That argument would surely sway the last man.

Sure enough, someone stood up from a corner, firing wildly, bullets ricocheting off metal and sending flares everywhere.

Liu Jingye had pinpointed his position, but the wild barrage made it too dangerous to reveal himself—like a master felled by a wild blow, tactics rendered useless.

But hesitation would only give the boss a chance to seize Yuan Xiaoying and threaten him.

Liu Jingye was anxious but kept his cool, counting every shot from his place beneath the lathe. They were using homemade copies of the 92-style pistol, each with fifteen bullets. The count was nearly up.

Suddenly, the shooting stopped. Liu Jingye’s eyes lit up—it was time. He darted out, and with a single precise shot, another figure dropped.

At the same instant, Yuan Xiaoying’s voice rang out, “Hey! What are you doing? If you’re a man, come out and duel him yourself! What kind of man grabs a woman as a hostage?”

She was still trying to provoke the boss, but at a time like this, who cared about dignity or pride?

The boss’s cold voice echoed, “Liu Jingye, your aim is impressive, but I’d advise you not to fire again. You don’t want to be the one who kills your own bride, do you?”

Liu Jingye remained silent. To speak now would only boost their morale. He stayed hidden in the darkness, unseen but always threatening, the specter of death hanging over them.

“Liu Jingye, if you dare, come out and fight me like a man!” The gunman’s voice was wild with fear. Even with the hostage in hand, he had no idea where the next deadly bullet might come from.

Suddenly, Yuan Xiaoying screamed—no telling what the boss had done. Her furious voice followed, “Damn you, how dare you hit me! Don’t worry about me, husband, shoot him dead!”

She was furious now.

Then, another shrill cry. Before Liu Jingye could react, she changed her tune, “Honey, don’t shoot! He’s got the gun to my head—I don’t want to die!”

Her bravado lasted all of three seconds.

Liu Jingye was at a loss, and the situation had grown muddled. With Yuan Xiaoying held hostage in the pitch black, he didn’t dare fire unless certain of the enemy’s location.

Suddenly, he heard shuffling footsteps and Yuan Xiaoying’s whimpers. Was the boss planning to escape with the hostage?

“If he gets away, I’ll lose all advantage—and Yuan Xiaoying will be in mortal danger. I need a plan—and a flare right now would be worth its weight in gold.”

At the thought of a flare, Liu Jingye’s eyes widened. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed a number—Yuan Xiaoying’s. He’d seen the boss use the phone earlier and then pocket it without shutting it off.

The call connected—no ringtone, but the vibration and the glow of the screen shone starkly in the blackness.

Liu Jingye stood in the open, Desert Eagle raised and steady, his eyes sharp. Twenty meters ahead, the enemy was holding Yuan Xiaoying, one arm around her neck, the other pressing a gun to her head. The phone vibrated in his shirt pocket, casting light.

Bang! The black king of handguns in Liu Jingye’s hand erupted in brilliant fire, the bullet shrieking like thunder.

Li Yan had once said she’d modified his gun—he’d feel the difference. From the first shot, Liu Jingye noticed it. This .50 caliber monster now had a revolving cylinder.

That was a feature only the Colt Python revolver possessed. The bullet was already fast, but the spinning chamber gave it even more power.

The large-caliber bullet tore through the air like a thunderclap. There were two dull thuds, and blood sprayed across Yuan Xiaoying’s face…