Just as Harold collapsed on the ground like mud, with only a terrified gasp of "Uh...Ah——" coming out of his throat——
Ribs in the booth moved!
He slammed his left palm against the cold marble floor, and with incredible speed and posture, he performed a perfect 360-degree Thomas spin and stood up!
Boom! An inhuman force erupted instantly.
At the same time, while his body was spinning in the air, his mind had already locked onto the system's [Quick Item Bar]!
Swish! Swish! Two ice-cold MP5 submachine guns instantly appeared in his hands out of thin air!
The centrifugal force of the body's rotation has not disappeared yet. The muscles in Ribs' arms bulge, and the huge force given by [Strengthening the Body] offsets the recoil, while the instinct of hitting the target given by [American Iai] means that he doesn't need to aim precisely!
Woo-da-da-da——Woo-da-da-da——!!!
He spun in the air, and his arms swung out two violent metal storms!
The bullets accurately followed his spinning trajectory and splashed towards the stunned bodyguards around him!
Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!
The two bodyguards closest to them didn't even have time to turn their guns before they were hit by 9mm bullets at close range, causing their bodies to shake wildly like sieves. Large clouds of blood mist exploded on their chests, and blood mixed with broken tissue splashed backwards onto the white wall.
Bang! Bang! The other person who tried to peek out from behind the restaurant pillar and fight back suddenly had his head explode like a ripe watermelon, splattering red and white everywhere.
Clang! Bang! The bodyguard who was trying to hold the bar was hit in the neck by a bullet that penetrated the decorative panel. The rifle in his hand flew out of his hand, and he fell limply with a dull thud.
"No--!" "God! Ah--!" The brief exclamations and screams lasted less than ten seconds before being ruthlessly covered by more intense gunfire.
The momentum of Ribs' rotation stopped precisely the moment his feet touched the ground. His arms sank slightly and he stopped shooting as steady as a rock.
The last wisp of smoke from the muzzle slowly dissipated.
The pungent smell of blood was like a thick curtain, instantly enveloping the entire luxurious and silent space.
The five or six bodyguards who were originally standing had all fallen in a pool of blood.
Broken limbs, shattered heads, brain matter and internal organs splattered on the walls and the floor completely turned this high-end restaurant into a hell on earth.
Only two people are still alive.
Eugene hid behind the booth, unharmed. Meanwhile, Harold sat slumped in a pool of cold blood.
This Wall Street tycoon, the uncrowned king of New York, sat on the ground in a daze.
A dark stain quickly spread across the crotch of the high-end handmade suit, emitting a foul smell of urine.
His silver hair was stuck to his face with cold sweat and splattered blood. His mouth was wide open and he could only make "Huh... Huh..." sounds, unable to utter a complete sentence.
The world in his eyes was only a sea of blood red, and the figure holding two guns, standing in front of him like a demon.
Time seemed to stand still.
The only sounds left in the restaurant were Harold's uncontrollable, heavy breathing caused by extreme fear, and the heart-pounding "tick...tick..." sound of blood dripping onto the floor.
Reeves nonchalantly picked up a clean white napkin from the table and carefully wiped the bullet wound on his face, which had stopped bleeding but still looked hideous.
His movements were slow and precise, as if he was doing something very ordinary, forming an absurd contrast with the bloody scene and the mangled limbs all around him.
After wiping off the last bit of blood, Ribbs threw the blood-stained napkin on Harold's still trembling thigh.
He took slow steps, his boots making a heart-pounding "puff" sound as they stepped into the sticky mixture.
Finally, he stopped in front of Harold, and the shadow he cast completely enveloped this business tycoon and the mastermind who had just fantasized about watching his "death".
"You high-ranking officials and wealthy people," Liebs' voice was as cold as an icicle, "do you really think that just because you have a little power, a bit of money, and a few vicious dogs, you can crush others like ants and do whatever you want?"
His eyes swept over the dark wet stain on Harold's crotch, and a mocking arc appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Ribs squatted down and looked into Harold's eyes, which were unfocused due to fear.
Then, he made a move that was completely unexpected to Harold and Eugene who was hiding nearby.
Reeves slowly took something out from the inside pocket of his worn coat.
Not a gun, not a knife, not any obviously lethal weapon.
It was a thick, crisp stack of hundred-dollar bills, neatly bound with an ordinary rubber band.
In the dim light of the ceiling lamp, the edges of these brand new banknotes exude a cold, shiny, yet deadly seductive luster.
Harold's eyes froze for a moment. Money? At this moment? His shattered brain couldn't comprehend it at all.
No explanation, no nonsense. A cold light flashed in Reeves' eyes, and he suddenly reached out and pinched open Harold's mouth, which was trembling and crying with fear!
"Ooo ...
At the moment when Harold instinctively gasped and contracted his throat due to the severe pain and suffocation—
Reeves stuffed the thick bundle of US dollars in his hand roughly and mercilessly!
“Ugh!!!”
The stiff edge of the banknote broke through Harold's fragile oral mucosa, and the cold and hard currency filled his throat! All his pleas for mercy, all his excuses, all his self-righteous bargaining terms were violently blocked by the cold, blood-stained US dollars!
Harold's eyes bulged out, and he twisted and struggled wildly due to suffocation and extreme pain, kicking his feet in vain in the pool of blood.
His hands instinctively tried to grab the thing in his mouth that was blocking his life path, but Reeves' other hand gripped his wrist bones tightly like a pair of pliers, holding Harold firmly in place.
Harold's body arched and twitched like a fish thrown ashore, his face turned purple from extreme lack of oxygen, and blue veins bulged out on his forehead and neck like earthworms.
His vision began to blur and darken. What he saw before him was no longer the murderous Reeves, but an endless stream of green banknotes flying in the sky in his hallucinations. They swirled and swarmed, filling his mouth and nose, blocking his trachea, and turning the wealth empire he was proud of and controlled into a suffocating grave that buried him alive.
Ribs watched expressionlessly.
Harold's pupils completely dilated, and the last bit of struggle completely disappeared. His body finally bounced stiffly, leaving only the occasional slight nervous twitch.
Reeves didn't let go of Harold until he was completely dead and his body was completely cold and stiff.
Harold's swollen head, covered in snot, blood, and pulp, slammed back into the pool of filth mixed with blood and urine with a "thud".
Ribbs stood up, took a look at the gloves that were stained with all kinds of filth, wiped them on the relatively clean tablecloth beside him, and then glanced coldly at Eugene who was huddled aside.
"What are you standing there for?" Ribs' voice broke the silence, "Let's go!"
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