Munitions Empire

Chapter 359 355 Street Night Battle

Disguised as a carriage transporting food, Qiumuluo hid inside, peering through the gaps of the carriage at the somewhat bleak streets.

This was only possible in Wolf City; if he were in Brunas, he couldn't even get close to a significant target area—there, carriages were basically no longer used for transporting food.

Such important transport tasks had already been handed over to automobiles, even the comparatively modern trucks, and getting hold of such transportation was not an easy feat.

Qiumuluo only had one hand left, so he lacked the ability to reload weapons, therefore he had prepared a heap of firearms for himself, discarding them once they were empty.

After all, these weapons were prepared to frame the Great Tang Group, so it didn't matter if they were lost.

He cradled a K2 lever-action rifle, and his waist was also equipped with four Left-Wheel Handguns, his firepower could be described as ferocious.

Those following him, on average, each carried a K2 rifle and at least one Left-Wheel Handgun, equally armed to the teeth. These men were all hidden in the carriage, anxiously awaiting the moment to begin their operation.

According to their plan, once the back door was opened to let the carriage in, they would kill the guards and servants with knives and then commence their assault on The Earl's Mansion.

Before being discovered, they would light torches and burn the house as much as possible to create maximum chaos.

If they were discovered, they would crush their enemies with fierce firepower and seize the opportunity to directly attack the main building, killing everyone inside.

After that, they would use the chaos to break out, retreat according to a predetermined route. With the Earl murdered, the enemies would be headless, allowing them an opportunity to escape with their lives.

Although the plan did not seem perfect, for instance, the plan for a retreat seemed a bit too optimistic.

However, Qiumuluo did not believe they had no chance of escaping; he thought the simpler the plan, the more likely it was to succeed.

A plan with an escape route planned in advance wouldn't push the executioners to complete their mission at all costs. Only in dire straits would they earn the right to live.

This was the lesson Qiumuluo had learned from escaping death twice; he was quite confident in himself, believing he was a chosen one.

If he could even survive under those unfavorable conditions, what else could he be if not a favorite of the gods?

"Is it... a little too quiet?" The skinny man lowered his voice and said to the burly man beside him, "I feel like something isn't quite right."

"Don't scare yourself, idiot!" Qiumuluo scolded, then explained, "This street is naturally deserted... it's The Earl's Mansion's back door, not some bustling street."

"Yeah, we chose the wee hours of the morning... how could it be noisy at this time, isn't quiet normal..." the burly man said as well.

Their words made sense, so the skinny man felt embarrassed to say more. Under these circumstances, no one else dared to speak, and the fact that he had managed to say anything at all was a feat in itself.

After all, they were all hidden in the carriage, and thoughtless chattering could easily blow their cover ahead of time.

Soon, after the carriage regained its silence, the driver gently tapped the partition of the carriage twice.

Bullets shattered the wooden boards, hurling splinters inside the carriage, slicing through the flesh inside. Blood spattered everywhere, accompanied by desperate screams echoing through the night.

Bullets also came from the front, and the two startled, tall horses neighed amidst the gunfire, struggling for a moment before collapsing to the ground, their blood flowing through their manes.

The fake coachman who had been knocking on the door was now nailed to it by bullets. He didn't even have the chance to draw the Left-Wheel Handgun concealed behind him.

"Ratatat!" The Thompson Submachine Gun's relentless and despairing gunfire never ceased, as the well-trained Great Tang Group security troops always had someone firing while others simultaneously reloaded their magazines.

The reliability of this firearm was quite high, and it was not prone to jamming—at least in an urban environment, the Thompson was an excellent submachine gun.

The intense suppression kept the adversaries from even raising their heads. The dozen or so people inside the carriage didn't even understand what had happened before they were turned into sieves by the bullets.

Finally, another one of Qiumuluo's subordinates also jumped off the carriage, but he landed right next to Qiumuluo, his body full of holes, and after a few gasps, he lay still.

Qiumuluo drew a Left-Wheel Handgun from his waist and with one shot extinguished the dim streetlamp overhead. He felt that hiding in the darkness might at least give him a bit of a chance.

Unfortunately, the brief darkness brought about by the extinguished streetlamp didn't help him much, for two flares were abruptly launched into the air, illuminating everything nearby.

It was then that Qiumuluo realized that in the building across the street, nearly all the windows were filled with shooters aiming at their carriage.

It wasn't just a few people; there were dozens!

The opposing side was well prepared! Their move... had been exposed!

Qiumuluo instantly understood that the opponents had been ready for their operation long before, and they had even dug a huge pit for them!

The enemy's firepower was more ferocious than theirs, or to put it another way, it was more ferocious than any gunfire Qiumuluo had ever seen.

The incessant spray of bullets was practically indistinguishable from machine gun fire, far surpassing the capability of the K2 rifles they had acquired.

"Ah!" Inside the carriage, another one of Qiumuluo's subordinates, holding a gun, rushed out. He fired continuously at the dark shapes in the distance, his two Left-Wheel Handguns emitting a steady barrage of gunfire as well.

However, by the time he jumped off the carriage, his revolver's bullets were nearly spent. As soon as he ran out of ammunition, he instantly became a lamb waiting for the slaughter.

Still, being a fierce and tough man, he flung aside the handguns without a second thought, dove to the ground, and scrambled to grab the K2 rifle beside Skinny's body.

Thanks to his covering action, two other miraculously surviving members also jumped off the carriage. They each sought cover, taking refuge behind the carriage.

Bathed in the light of the flares, Qiumuluo lying on the ground finally saw his wounds clearly—he had been shot in the stomach, and another bullet had hit his leg.

He crawled a bit on the ground, struggling to roll to the back of the carriage, where he took cover between his two subordinates.

And the tough man who had opened the situation for them, just as he reached for Skinny's K2 rifle, was hit by the bullets from above, followed by silence.