Big Boss: "What? Half an hour? I thought shutting it down would be quick."
Brother Ni and Potato hugged each other tightly and scread
"You illiterate idiot next door ahhh!!!!"
Still, it’s not to say his actions were entirely useless; the ard hovercar is, after all, not a proper fighter jet. The missile it carries isn’t as fast, and the player’s illegal engine modification allows a 360-degree pivot with explosive ignition at astonishing speed.
Just as the heat-seeking missile was about to hit them, the Big Boss forcibly turned the engine and reignited, performing a quick sprint with sharp turns.
"Ah-ha!!!"
"Holy shit!"
Murphy and the driver couldn’t believe their eyes as the hovercar, after briefly losing balance and stopping its engine, reignited mid-air during its fall and dodged the heat-seeking missile.
Now, they were out of weapons, and the player’s rifles and grenades were useless against the ard hovercar.
So there was only one way left for the showdown.
Brother Ni: "Chase up and board!!! Board the car!!!"
The hovercar they intended to board was Hansen’s, not Murphy’s.
The modification on this hovercar was done by the old captain with the help of experts. Though wild, its quality far surpassed anything the players could conjure up themselves; even after being put through such a wringer, it could still run.
The Big Boss spent another ten minutes catching up with Hansen’s hovercar.
If it were Pan’an, he would’ve fired a surface-to-air missile, but sadly, the players didn’t have such advanced equipnt, so they opted for human counterasures.
The hovercar, incidentally, doesn’t have any propellers.
"Can we still not shake them off?"
Hansen gritted his teeth, the radar showing the enemy drawing closer.
The sweating driver gripped the control stick tightly. The opponent’s driving skills were nothing short of miraculous, far beyond human capability. He couldn’t outmaneuver them, no matter how he drove, even attempting a cobra maneuver to realign positions for offense was seen through and foiled.
That guy stuck like a dog to his tail, impossible to shake off.
Until the adversary disappeared from the radar, or precisely, beca stationary right above them.
"Sir.... he’s.... he’s above us."
The driver’s voice carried a sense of despair.
Potato, pale-faced, was adamant in his refusal to leave his seat, clutching the safety belt firmly.
"I... I’m not going anywhere."
"And... next ti I ride with you, I’m a dead man."
Even Li De considered this possibly the most unforgettable hovercar ride of his life.
Brother Ni opened the car door, equally discomforted, but the mission had to proceed; they couldn’t let the boss escape.
He deployed his Mantis Blades from both arms and exchanged glances with Li De, ready for action.
The Big Boss, lost in his thrill of excitent, said: "Prepare for deploynt, everyone to their positions."
He adjusted the control stick, modulating the engine power on both sides; the hovercar spun 90 degrees in place, its door facing the top of Hansen’s ride, just a ter apart.
Under Murphy’s despairing gaze, Brother Ni and Li De leaped across, landing precisely on the ard hovercar.
Brother Ni drove his Mantis Blades into the hovercar’s roof to anchor himself, the armor here being the thinnest. Li De punched through, both using brute force to rip open the hovercar’s ’skull’ cover.
Hansen, Yuri, and Bennett all drew their guns. As high-ranking mbers of the Netherworld Dog, they never lacked courage for a deadly struggle.
Brother Ni, seeing their actions, rely laughed and said,
"Ha, welco to the top of the food chain."
Blades flashed, bullets flew.
A hovercar so small couldn’t possibly withstand their five-person chaos, especially with the driver’s brain pierced by a stray bullet from one of them.
Thus, Murphy could only watch in increasing despair as the hovercar careened uncontrollably toward a cliff.
The over four-ter-long hovercar crashed onto the seaside cliff, scattering chunks of rocks and, with inertia, rolled toward the cliff edge. This multimillion Orokin hovercar was smashed into scrap tal, its engine caught fire, and the fuel tank ruptured. Spilled Chun Er ignited with the sparks.
Boom—
The hovercar was ultimately blocked by a giant rock at the cliff’s edge.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Hansen pushed away the jagged tal barricade with his right hand, trembling as he slowly crawled out.
In such violent turbulence and destruction, only a cyborg could survive; a normal person’s brain would’ve been mashed into tofu.
Notwithstanding, Hansen’s left arm was twisted like a pretzel, and his thigh was punctured by a steel bar, bleeding profusely.
He was driven purely by survival instinct to crawl out of the wrecked hovercar.
He crawled tens of ters, leaving a long trail of blood until he reached a confird safe spot, flipped over, and gazed into the deep night sky, gasping for breath.
Having experienced such a fierce escape, Hansen felt oddly calm inside.
He reached out for the cigarette soone handed him, took a deep drag, letting the nicotine numb his lungs.
"Who exactly are you? Standard Intelligence Bureau agents don’t possess such skills."
"Solomon Lid."
"So it’s you, son of a bitch. I suspected as much..."
Hansen almost laughed in anger, suddenly finding his failure less regrettable.
"So, after being sold out by Miles for so many years, are you still planning to serve her when you get back?"
"I already said, this job isn’t for her."
"Then who is it for? It couldn’t be for that Lin guy, could it?"
"For... never mind, you wouldn’t understand even if I explained."
Upon hearing this, Hansen was relieved. He thought Li De had chosen a path opposite his, opting to return as Miles’ loyal dog. But it turns out Li De wasn’t interested in Miles nor her pursuits.
"Ugh..."
Hansen exhaled a cloud of smoke, knowing his end was near, thus he said,
"Pass a ssage for to the guy surnad Lin.... there isn’t a single bastard worth anything in that city.... don’t follow my old path....."
"I’ll relay it for you."
"Do it."
Piu—
The once formidable hero gazed into the night sky, his eyes gradually losing focus. Once upon a ti, he too was ambitious, but choosing survival by becoming a pawn cost him even his freedom over life and death; rebellion led only to inevitable consequences.
Beside him, quietly lay a blood-stained Intelligence Bureau agent ID and a handgun, weighed down by pebbles.
However, its owner was nowhere to be seen.
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