"Fire! Fire!" the commander's order came clearly over the radio. Bang! Bang! Bang! Dadadada! Dadadada!

The once arrogant "Skull Heads" were like ants being poured with boiling water. They threw away their beer bottles, guns and even skull masks in fear, just to escape from this purgatory that was about to turn into scorched earth.

The sudden crackle of rifle fire and the blast of squad machine gun fire instantly drowned out the screams of the fleeing crowd. Several Crips who had attempted to draw their weapons or who had bumped into the muzzles of the guns in the chaos had their bodies torn apart like sacks by the rapidly spinning bullets. The burst of blood was shocking under the pale searchlights. They collapsed directly onto the cold street, their bodies rapidly spreading a dark crimson. The streets of Chicago had instantly transformed from a revelry party scene into a brutal slaughterhouse.

All of this was instantly ignited as if by a huge news spotlight.

CNN, FOX, Chicago Tribune, New York Times...mainstream media across the United States and even the world swarmed in like sharks smelling blood.

The footage shot by armed helicopters hovering high in the sky was transmitted to thousands of households in real time: a torrent of steel crushed the streets, corpses wearing skull masks lay on the streets, and the National Guard soldiers, armed with live ammunition and expressionless, formed a tight offensive formation and advanced.

The titles are more shocking than the last:

"War has arrived in Chicago! The National Guard is suppressing the 'Crip Rebellion'!"

"The end of the Skull Gang? The US military is cracking down on local 'paramilitary organizations'!"

"Blue Helmets and Iron Fists! Illinois Governor Authorizes Military Action to Eliminate 'Urban Cancer'!"

Stanley hid in the deepest part of the bulletproof apartment, watching the hellish scene outside through the surveillance screen, watching his subordinates being crushed like ants, and listening to the words in the news that almost defined him as an "enemy of the state". The ferocity and confidence that he was proud of were instantly drained away.

Beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably. The face that had been mocking Ribs smugly a few days ago was now pale with panic.

"Damn it! Damn Thorne! Damn Ribs!"

He made phone calls in vain, no matter if he called the police or politicians he was on good terms with, all he heard was a busy tone or a busy tone that was rudely hung up - the former "Chicago Underground King" instantly became a source of plague that everyone avoided.

Now no one can protect the Crip Gang, and no one dares to protect him as the gang leader.

Stanley slumped down on the leather sofa, and the expensive whiskey bottle rolled onto the carpet.

He watched on the screen as his "empire" was being crushed by ruthless metal tracks and baptized by gunfire. Fear coiled around his heart like an icy snake, and the feeling of suffocation was more intense than ever before.

He finally realized what kind of iron wall he had kicked.

Reeves simply disdains to play any gang-fighting tricks with him. Reeves directly mobilized the state machinery! This is not a gang revenge, this is the legal elimination of a "rebel organization" by the state violence machinery!

However, it was too late to wake up.

The celebratory drink that he had with Thorne in the conference room while they talked about the "future of Chicago" now felt like a poison churning in his stomach.

He knew that this time, he and his Cripple Gang were doomed.