Chapter 137: The Outcome Has Been Decided

"Damn it! Leo's people!"

Wayne's face went white, but he quickly pulled himself together.

He scanned the area. Hundreds of heavily armed Gray Cloaks elites and Rothschild family private security had the entire hilltop locked down tight.

Heavy machine guns, rocket launchers, sniper rifles... they had everything.

"What are you panicking for?"

Wayne let out a cold laugh. "That monster Leo is busy fighting Kyle in the church. He can't break away."

"Without that freak leading them, those rats hiding in the shadows taking potshots at us—what can they possibly do?"

Sawyer snapped out of his panic too, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. He snarled through clenched teeth, "Right! Without that monster, they're just walking into their own graves!"

Exactly!

No matter how powerful Reaper was, he couldn't be in two places at once!

As long as Leo wasn't here, with the thousand-plus fully armed elites the Rothschild family had stationed here, even a full special forces unit would get crushed into paste!

Sawyer roared at the sea of bodyguards surrounding them, "Lock down the woods! Root out those bastards shooting at us! I want them chopped up and fed to the dogs!"

Before he'd even finished speaking—

Snow sprayed into the air.

Four black figures dropped from the sky!

Under the moonlight, four deadly, graceful silhouettes descended like Valkyries, landing lightly in the center of the hilltop.

It was Olivia, along with Ivy, Serafina, and Charlotte!

Olivia in her black tactical gear, Ivy in a wine-red dress like living flame, Serafina in black lace dripping with sensuality, and Charlotte in a dark green gown, cold as ice.

Four women with completely different styles, yet all breathtakingly beautiful—they'd just walked brazenly into the heart of this heavily fortified position.

Facing hundreds upon hundreds of gun barrels pointed their way.

These four deadly beauties showed no trace of fear. Instead, they started bantering with each other as if no one else existed.

"Serafina, I keep telling you not to wear those tight lace dresses, but you never listen. During the rappel just now, you moved like a clumsy penguin. I almost missed my warm-up for the killing." Ivy toyed with the crimson claw blades in her hands, her azure eyes full of mockery.

Serafina lazily tucked a strand of wine-colored curls behind her ear and shot back without hesitation, "What would a bitch like you know? This is called 'elegance.' Meanwhile, you're dressed head to toe in red like a walking target. Aren't you worried a stray bullet will pop those silicone implants you're so proud of?"

"Enough, both of you."

Charlotte cut their bickering short with an icy tone. "Stop showing off your figures. When the fighting starts, you'd better not drag us down."

Watching these four women laughing and trading insults, Wayne trembled with rage.

"How dare you! A bunch of whores strutting around here like you own the place!"

Wayne pointed at them, his voice shrill with fury. "Since you've come here to die, I'll grant your wish! Open fire! Kill them all!"

Almost the instant Wayne gave the order—

Olivia's emotionless eyes swept across the scene, and the two large-caliber suppressed handguns at her waist slid into her palms.

"Shadow squad, perimeter kill."

Olivia's ice-cold voice cut through the wind and snow. "Everyone on this hill—leave no one alive. Kill them all."

Gunfire and screams erupted, completely igniting this frozen hilltop!

Meanwhile.

Inside the ancient church.

The sniper fire and heavy gunfire from outside drifted faintly through the night wind.

"Bang!"

Leo and Kyle's fists collided violently in midair once more, and both men staggered back several steps.

Leo steadied himself and dusted off his clothes. Hearing the faint gunfire outside, a mocking smile tugged at his lips. "Sounds like your bosses are getting slaughtered by my people right about now."

"What's the matter? Not going out to save them? Wait much longer and Wayne's head will be rolling."

"Save them?"

Kyle wiped the blood from his face, a flash of contempt in his gray eyes. "Those sanctimonious hypocrites? Good riddance if they die! I'd love nothing more than to see your people chop them into hamburger meat!"

"They made this mess themselves—it's got nothing to do with me!"

Kyle cracked his neck, his eyes igniting with manic fervor again. "Right now, my only interest is snapping your neck with my own hands!"

"Boom!"

Before the words had fully left his mouth, Kyle charged forward again like a raging bear!

Leo said nothing more. A savage battle lust surged in his deep-set eyes as he met the charge head-on!

---

This ancient church, hundreds of years old, suffered catastrophic damage under the clash of two supreme killing machines!

Thick stone support pillars crumbled and collapsed under the terrifying force of their strikes!

Kyle seized an opening and delivered a devastating side kick straight into Leo's chest!

"Bang!"

Leo grunted, his entire body flying backward and slamming hard into a broken pillar.

"Hahaha!"

Kyle laughed triumphantly. "Reaper! You're nothing special after all!"

But then—

"Hahaha..."

Leo slowly stood up, casually brushing the dust off his chest.

He rolled his neck, loosened his shoulders, and lifted his head again. "Nice kick. Actually hurt a little."

"But... that also got me fully excited."

"You like going crazy? Then let me show you what 'real madness' looks like!"

The instant those words left his mouth, Leo's figure left an afterimage where he'd stood!

"What!"

Kyle's pupils shrank. He hadn't even seen Leo move—just a blur before his eyes—and crushing pressure bore down on him!

"Bang!"

Leo's heavy fist slammed into Kyle's face!

Kyle didn't even have time to defend. His entire body reeled backward.

But before he could hit the ground, Leo's hand seized his hair in an iron grip, yanking him downward as his right knee drove upward!

Kyle's eyes turned bloodshot. He flailed his arms wildly, trying to fight back.

But at this moment, Leo had completely transformed into an emotionless Reaper of death!

He was crazier than Kyle!

More violent than Kyle!

More reckless than Kyle!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Leo's fists rained down on Kyle's massive frame like a hailstorm, each strike carrying devastating, crushing force.

Finally, Leo delivered a brutal spinning back kick that connected viciously with Kyle's temple.

"Boom!"

The man the Gray Cloaks considered their ultimate trump card—the first-generation Blood-Pit Executioner—crashed down with a thunderous impact, smashing through the last altar. He didn't get up again.

Amid the ruins, dust swirled.

Kyle lay sprawled in the rubble, limbs spread wide. Not an inch of his body remained unbruised, and blood pooled beneath him, staining the ground crimson.

But he wasn't dead. He stared up at the shattered dome of the church, blood bubbling from his mouth as he let out a laugh—genuine, satisfied.

"Cough... cough... satisfying... damn satisfying..."

Kyle turned his head to look at Leo standing beside him. There was no hatred in his eyes—only pure, absolute respect. "I lost... Reaper, you're stronger than me. Dying by your hand... my life was worth it."

Leo quietly observed this man—beaten beyond recognition yet still unbroken—and a faint glimmer flickered in his eyes.

He didn't deliver the killing blow. Instead, he pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it.

"With your skills, those Gray Cloaks bastards could never have kept you locked in a death cell for twenty years."

Leo exhaled a plume of smoke, his voice echoing through the hollow ruins. "Want revenge? I can help you tear apart every single one of those people who caged you like a dog."

At the word "revenge," the manic light in Kyle's eyes instantly dimmed.

Bitter, soul-deep despair crawled across his weathered face.

"Revenge?"

Kyle let out a bitter laugh, and a tear—mixed with blood—slid down his cheek.

"You think I don't want to skin Wayne and his crew alive?"

"Twenty years ago... in that little cabin in the Alps..." Kyle's voice trembled as his mind sank into the nightmare he least wanted to relive.

Twenty years ago, he'd grown tired of killing. He wanted to retire with his wife and newborn daughter.

But Wayne had surrounded the cabin with hundreds of Gray Cloaks death squads.

In the swirling snow, his wife clutched their crying infant daughter as those black-clad men dragged them away by force.

And he—injected with enough high-concentration sedative to drop an elephant—was pinned to the ground with dozens of steel chains.

Wayne's boot ground into his face, that cold voice still echoing in his ears to this day: "Be a good dog in your cell, and your wife and kid get to live. Resist even once, and I'll carve a piece of flesh off them!"

The memory cut off abruptly.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut in agony, his fists clenched so hard they cracked. "They took my wife and daughter... that's my fatal weakness. As long as they're in Wayne's hands, no matter how strong I am, I'm just a dog chained in the dark!"

After hearing Kyle's story,

Leo showed little sympathy. He simply reached into the inner pocket of his coat.