North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 558 319 The Downfall of Lucifer Part 5

Excitent flashed across Dean's eyes.

Ever since he had mastered Muay Thai, his body had transcended the limits of humanity.

Ard with martial prowess, he seldom found a place to wield his power.

But today, he truly felt exhilarated!

He took a deep breath and let out an ear-splitting roar, "Kill!"

Taking advantage of the montum of the charge, Dean's fists, feet, elbows, and knees all beca lethal weapons. With one punch, he caused the eyeballs of a pouncing beast to explode. Then, leaping into the air, he violently smashed his knees onto the heads of two other beasts, caving in their skulls.

The more he fought, the more excited he beca!

An endless surge of power was extracted from his flesh and blood, fueling Dean's killing spree.

The savage beasts attacked him in vain, barely leaving a mark.

With just a casual strike from Dean, each carrying a subli "Shocking Power," he could directly ignore the beasts' tenacious vitality, shattering their brains.

The killing was frenzied.

Dean grabbed a humanoid beast by its legs and began swinging it around like a weapon.

By the ti he was left holding just a pair of severed thighs, the space before him had cleared once again.

"Thrilling!"

"Thrilling!!"

Dean, panting heavily, laughed heartily.

Casually tossing aside the limbs in his hand, he turned to look at the surviving humanoid beasts. His eyes were bloodshot; he was seeing red.

However, these humanoid beasts, typically numb to pain and possessing abysmally low intelligence, upon seeing this god of slaughter fixated on them, unexpectedly began to drag their fractured, indented bodies. Like startled mice, they whimpered pitifully and crawled towards the hall, terrified that if they moved too slowly, they would be torn to shreds.

"A bunch of trash!"

Dean made a throat-slitting gesture at the monitor. Then, stepping over a floor slick with brain matter, he returned to the hall. After strapping on more weapons and bombs, he snickered and continued down the corridor.

Before the monitor, Sean and his group of senior researchers were stunned. The ard guards behind them stood frozen. The researchers controlling the defense system were dumbfounded. Even Little Mike, all the way in Los Angeles, his usually cold face now slack-jawed, found his mouth unwittingly gaping open. Don't ask why their mouths were open, displaying such stupefaction. It was a re instinctive reaction.

「...」

"He's coming! He's heading for our lab!"

A female researcher, usually unfazed by piles of innards, let out a choked sob, utterly at a loss.

A male researcher, one who favored live dissections to ensure fresh samples, had wet pant legs and reeked of urine.

So tried to send ssages to Dr. Sean for help, but they were t with nothing but busy signals; there was no reply.

Facing such a god of slaughter, they felt as if they had already seen their impending doom.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Death, however, did not delay its arrival because of their fear.

Dean kicked open the malfunctioning door. He looked around the lab at the so-called elites, traced a checkmark smile (√) on his clown mask with a finger, and waved goodbye.

"Don't kill ! I have money! I can give you all my money!"

"I'm a Stanford genius, proficient in various kinds of biological research! Don't kill , I'm useful!"

"I can keep you company! My skills are excellent!"

The pleas of these elites were t only with the echo of gunfire and clattering shell casings throughout the lab.

"Noisy!"

Looking at the few bodies still twitching on the ground, Dean casually pulled the pin on a high-explosive grenade, tossed it in, and then politely closed the door.

BOOM!

The thick door, bent into a C-shape, slamd into the corridor wall.

The shockwave from the blast propelled Dean, allowing him to proceed with an even lighter step towards the next lab.

RAT-A-TAT-TAT!

Gunfire echoed through the corridor.

He walked to the very end of this corridor. Still not satisfied, Dean shot out the surrounding surveillance caras. Then, feigning to pull a communicator from his pocket, he called Little Mike again, "Help check if any little mice got away around here."

As a man of his word, if he said he'd slaughter these bastards, he would slaughter every last one.

These animals didn't deserve to live!