Chapter 9 You’re Actually The Reaper!
The warehouse's back door slammed shut completely, and only then did James's anxious heart settle a bit. He turned to look at Kevin, his eyes cold as ice.
"Set up the heavy weapons at the windows, leave two men guarding the iron door, everyone else spread out in a triangle formation. Don't leave Steel Serpent Mercenaries any openings."
Kevin went off to carry out the orders.
The warehouse was filled only with the sound of guns being loaded.
James leaned against the cold metal rack, raised his hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, his fingertips touching the scrape on his cheek, but he didn't care at all.
The iron door was battered and deformed, finally kicked open, and a dozen mercenaries rushed in with their guns.
The moment they crossed the threshold, they were mowed down by machine gun fire from the window. Blood splattered on the warehouse's cement floor, instantly spreading into a pool of dark red.
"Fuck, it's an ambush!"
Angry curses came from outside. The Steel Serpent Mercenaries didn't dare rush in recklessly anymore.
They just fired from the doorway, bullets hitting the warehouse's metal racks, sparking and making ear-piercing sounds.
James dodged behind a thick metal rack, raised his hand and shot two mercenaries who were poking their heads out. His movements were as fast as a shadow, every shot hitting right between the eyes, not a single miss.
Kevin coordinated from the other side. The two of them, left and right, forcibly pinned the Steel Serpent Mercenaries at the doorway, not letting them advance an inch.
"You people inside, come out! What kind of skill is hiding!"
A rough, hoarse voice came from the doorway. A tall, bald man walked out.
He was carrying a heavy sniper rifle, with a scar running from the corner of his eye to his chin, looking especially fierce.
He was the leader of Steel Serpent Mercenaries, Otis Jenkins, quite well-known in the international mercenary world.
His hands were stained with countless lives.
Otis squinted as he scanned the figures in the warehouse. When his gaze fell on James, his pupils suddenly contracted, and he nearly dropped his gun.
He stared at James's face, his throat rolling hard, feeling uneasy.
It was him, the legendary Reaper, the leader of Specter Syndicate!
Otis immediately began to back down mentally. He'd been in this business for years and had seen all kinds of tough characters.
But this Reaper was the one person no one wanted to mess with.
Rumor had it he'd single-handedly massacred an entire mercenary squad. The Specter Syndicate he'd built had crushed international mercenary organizations so they couldn't even raise their heads. Going head-to-head with him was suicide.
He raised his hand to signal his men to cease fire and shouted into the warehouse.
"Is that the Reaper from Specter Syndicate in there?"
James walked out slowly, gun hanging at his side, looking at Otis with indifferent eyes. He didn't speak, but that intimidating presence made the enemies at the door shrink back one by one.
"It really is you."
Otis swallowed, his hesitation growing heavier.
"Reaper, Trevor hired us for this job. We have no grudge against you. I'll take my men and leave, and we'll call it even. How about it?"
He knew clearly that their earlier advantage was all from ambushing James. Now that Specter Syndicate had taken over the entire ammunition warehouse with plenty of heavy weapons, if they really fought James, his few dozen men definitely couldn't win. Being able to get out in one piece would be lucky enough.
But just as he finished speaking, the satellite phone in his pocket rang. It was Trevor calling. Otis hesitated, but still answered.
"Otis, what's going on? Why did you stop firing?"
Trevor's voice carried anger, coming through the phone especially harsh.
"Mr. Anderson, the person inside is the Reaper, the leader of Specter Syndicate. We're no match for him."
"I don't care who he is!"
Trevor cut him off directly, his tone vicious.
"I paid you triple! I want you to kill James! He must die there today, or else you and your Steel Serpent Mercenaries can forget about working in this business!"
The phone went to a busy signal. Otis gripped the phone, his face looking terrible.
Trevor's words hit his weak spot.
The Anderson family's influence was considerable. If they really targeted him, Steel Serpent Mercenaries wouldn't be able to take any jobs in the future.
He gritted his teeth, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes. Either way it was death - might as well take a gamble.
"Boys, charge! Kill James and Mr. Anderson will reward us handsomely!"
At Otis's command, the Steel Serpent Mercenaries rushed forward with red eyes, their guns firing wildly, grenades being thrown into the warehouse one after another.
Explosions rang out continuously. The metal racks in the warehouse were blown crooked, smoke and dust filling the air.
James's eyes turned cold. His feet moved, and his whole body shot out like a ghostly shadow.
His gun fired in rapid succession. The mercenaries charging at the front instantly fell, each with a bullet hole between their eyes.
He didn't dodge at all, walking forward into the bullets. Every time he raised his hand, someone died.
His movements were incredibly fast. When his gun ran out of bullets, he simply grabbed a knife from a nearby mercenary. The blade rose and fell, and the enemies' screams came one after another.
The Specter Syndicate members in the warehouse were stunned. Even Kevin froze for a moment, then snapped back and led his men to charge up and coordinate.
But James was too fast - they couldn't even help. They could only watch as James alone slaughtered through the Steel Serpent Mercenaries like he was walking through an empty field.
The so-called elites had no strength to fight back in front of James.
One by one they fell to the ground, twitching a few times before going still.
In no time, the warehouse entrance was covered with corpses, blood flowing like a river, the pungent smell of blood choking enough to make people want to vomit.
Watching this scene, Otis was so scared his legs were shaking. He turned to run.
He knew that today he'd lost, lost completely. If he didn't leave now, he'd lose his life here too.
But he'd only run two steps when a strong wind came from behind. James had somehow caught up, kicking hard at his knee.
A crisp sound - the sound of bone breaking was especially clear.
Otis screamed and fell to his knees, his kneecap twisted at a grotesque angle. The pain made him break out in sweat all over, his whole body convulsing.
James walked slowly up to him and stepped on his broken leg, grinding down hard.
Otis's screams grew louder, tears and snot mixing together, looking utterly pathetic.
"Reaper, spare me, please spare my life."
He begged desperately, his forehead knocking on the cement floor, soon bleeding. Where was any trace of a leader's dignity?
James squatted down, gripped his chin, his eyes cold without a trace of warmth, his voice like it was coming from an ice cellar.
"Go back and tell Trevor - within three days, I will take his life. Blood debts must be paid in blood."
Otis nodded frantically in fear.
James released his hand, stood up, didn't even look at him, and waved at Kevin.
"Clean up the scene. Throw this waste out and have him deliver the message to Trevor."
Kevin responded and had someone drag Otis away. As Otis was being dragged away, he didn't even dare look back, afraid James would change his mind and take his life.
The warehouse was a mess - metal racks twisted, bullet holes everywhere, the floor covered with Steel Serpent Mercenaries' corpses.
A few Specter Syndicate members were also injured, but each one looked at James with worshipful eyes.