Cheap bullets glanced off the assassins’ helts, leaving only minor scuffs.
"F*ck!"
He cursed, then turned around and saw:
There were assassins behind him and across the crosswalk, six n in pitch-black outfits standing amidst the fleeing crowd.
They were staring at John from three directions.
Single-molecule straight blades glittering faintly popped out from the slots on their arms, their helts gleaming slightly, with rainwater dripping from around their black leather jackets.
"この男を殺せ!"
The assassins splashed through puddles, charging forward with blades.
John heard the muffled Japanese phrase and imdiately emptied his magazine at the advancing n in black.
The effect was minimal.
Not bothering to waste ti reloading, he simply tossed the weapon aside.
The thing was useless.
John flipped and stepped on a trash can, agilely climbing up the steel railings on the building’s exterior, then vaulting over a grid at the alley’s depth.
Clang, clang went the sounds of tal collisions.
The assassins’ single-molecule blades swished through the air several tis, striking obstacles and sparking furiously.
John dashed through the dark alley.
These motorcycle assassins were the hired killers of the Owl Town gang.
How did they set their sights on him?
The crevices between buildings were sticky — dried-up dirt and various debris piled up, along with shards of glass and unidentifiable drifting garbage.
John ran through, his brows knitted tight.
In such a narrow alley, being ambushed by six people could easily lead to injury; it’s best to create so distance first.
John dashed past several junctions with his head down.
Light and rain diagonally poured in.
Large virtual projections floated across the comrcial street, while sirens and rock music from various clubs began to waft over Sakura Cross Street.
John suddenly halted in front of a slanted light spot.
Swoosh—
A motorcycle assassin lurking against the wall swung a blade down, the single-molecule warrior blade slicing through the air, then imdiately changing direction.
John leapt back half a step to dodge.
He grabbed the opponent’s wrist, using an over-the-shoulder throw to slam him onto the alley floor.
Crack.
John twisted the assassin’s arm, trying to leverage the trendous force from his alloy skeleton and muscle fibers to wrench the blade free.
Sizzle.
Arcs of electricity erupted from the motorcycle assassin’s prosthetic limb.
He struggled on the ground, creating several afterimages, likely due to limb damage causing a malfunction in Sianweistan, appearing like a glitched character in an arcade ga.
John imdiately pressed down with his knee.
The assassin’s throat took a critical hit, leading more implants to malfunction, starting to emit black smoke all over.
John finally managed to pull the blade free.
This single-molecule straight blade was embedded in the opponent’s arm, and after pulling it out, the end had no handle, just a hinge with a tal screw.
John suddenly felt a thump in his eardrum.
ssiah’s Eye activated combat mode, and Igdrasir’s combat algorithm automatically determined to dodge backward.
John retreated swiftly, following his instincts.
Two silver-gray light streaks flashed across his eyes, and the floating hoodie tore open, exposing the side heat vents of his abs and ribs.
Swoosh—
John leaned back, bending at the waist.
A gleaming blade skimd past his nasal bone, cutting the swinging hoodie drawstring.
[Combat Chip: Brazilian War Dance]
John kicked out with inertia, feeling a dull sensation in his knee, and only after landing and rolling did he clearly see the situation in front of him.
A corpse with a severed arm had just stopped convulsing.
Two pursuing assassins, kicked in the head, crashed into the wall, trying hard to recover from the dizziness.
The remaining one was blocked at the rear, unable to attack.
John’s pupils narrowed slightly, a stream of data flickering across the surface of his irises, and the next mont, two individuals rushed to his face.
Bam.
The alleyway was too narrow.
The two assassins couldn’t swing their blades, so they naturally hoisted John up, forcing him into an open area and slamming him against a wall.
Garbage bags piled in the corner burst underfoot.
Scattered glass bottles shattered.
John observed it all — after having a Graphene Chip buffering his prosthetic body’s signals, he could now clearly see the movents of Sianweistan-using enemies.
He patiently waited.
Light footsteps ca from above.
Creak—
Two helted assassins brandishing blades climbed over the railing, descending from the rusty steel staircase.
They too activated Sianweistan.
Afterimages moved slowly under a cyan-gray filter, and two glistening blades aid for John’s neck and chest.
Four were now gathered.
Buzz—
The assassins all montarily paused.
John also activated Sianweistan, imdiately freeing himself from restraint, moving effortlessly in the gray world, and precisely kicking two helts.
The flow of ti returned to normal.
John broke free of his bonds.
The shocked assassins almost simultaneously swung their blades, trying to use their numbers and weapon advantage to trap him in place.
John’s back beca scorching.
Sianweistan activated twice in a short ti, reversing the situation, the actions of the four Owl Town assassins slowing down several tis.
John gripped the knife in his hand tightly.
[Chip: Raqi Industry - Ranger]
The wall he had leaned against now displayed black spots, his hoodie burned through by Sianweistan, the remaining fabric seared onto the wall.
The black spots quickly were covered by spilled blood.
John’s prosthetic eye flickered.
Illumination traced a gradually fading, ethereal long line, encircling the human targets in front of him.
Frozen ti lted away.
The alley’s scenery reappeared in color.
The raindrops hanging in the air fell with a sense of relief, the multicolored night mixing with the street’s noise, silently flowing amid the pool of blood.
[Escape from the scene. (Not achieved)]
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