CHAPTER 488: CHAPTER 291: ANNIHILATION, LEVEL UP_2

But who the hell could tell me! This bastard, who’s been searched several times, where the fuck did he conjure that pistol from?! Out of his ass?!

He knew that even for them, for safety’s sake, entering the Pig Pen meant absolutely no guns. This was precisely to prevent scenarios where their weapons could be snatched, leaving them vulnerable.

But this bastard in front of him had actually pulled a pistol out of thin air, right before his very eyes!

The pig-headed masked man began to question his life.

It seems we’ve messed with someone we shouldn’t have...

...

"Quick!"

"Surround Area Three! That bastard hasn’t left!"

Amid the clamor, a group of people rapidly approached the cell where Dean was located.

These people showed no caution whatsoever.

They all knew this was an age of science.

Even if that piglet had somehow unlocked his shackles and taken down their companions, he couldn’t possibly stand against the five or six guns in their hands.

Very soon, under their leader’s direction, the group blocked the corridor to Dean’s cell.

In the empty corridor, only fragments of a broken surveillance camera lay scattered on the ground.

Looking down the pale, long corridor, the lead man tightened his grip on his submachine gun and tapped his earpiece. "Are you sure the guy stayed in the room and never left?"

"Positive!"

"That guy only smashed the two nearby surveillance cameras. However, it doesn’t affect the surveillance at the front and back of the corridor, and the infrared alarm systems in the other rooms haven’t been tripped either. Unless he can dig tunnels, he’s definitely still in the room!"

"Got it!"

The lead man waved his hand. "Monkey, you go!"

Although they were certain the new piglet had no firearms, the ease with which he had taken down two of their men suggested he wasn’t an average joe.

For safety’s sake, he decided to have some cannon fodder scout ahead.

From within the crowd, a skinny Southeast Asian man was pushed forward by his ’companions’.

The Southeast Asian man’s face bore some resemblance to Amanda, whom Dean had previously killed.

He knew his status in the eyes of these white men. Clenching his teeth, he brandished his pistol and quickly walked toward Dean’s cell.

Along the way, some of the locked-up piglets curled into balls. Most had already abandoned any thought of resisting this sudden turn of events.

Just as he was about to get close, a figure suddenly burst out of Dean’s cell!

The Southeast Asian man was clearly on edge.

Seeing the figure rush out, he opened fire without a second thought, not stopping until he emptied his magazine.

Only then did he realize in shock that the fallen person, judging by their build, was presumably one of his own companions.

The Southeast Asian man cursed, hastily pulling out a fresh magazine from his waist to reload. But in the instant his gunfire ceased, a bullet pierced his head.

Dean pinpointed the origin of the shot, extended his pistol, and put a bullet through the man’s head. Then, without hesitation, he confidently exposed the upper half of his body, laying down suppressive fire in the direction the shots had come from.

Screams followed one after another. The gunmen hesitating whether to approach the entrance had no idea what had just happened, and three of them fell.

The boss had it the worst. He was standing at the very front, the first unlucky one to be taken down by Dean’s unaimed shots.

After emptying a magazine, Dean tossed the gun. It vanished in mid-air, and simultaneously, a fully loaded Glock 17 reappeared in his hand. He continued his suppressive fire, consciously aiming lower.

Once the screams ceased, Dean calmly equipped a submachine gun and walked out of the cell.

Down the long corridor, under the ghastly white lights, three or four bodies lay fallen. Blood stained a wide patch of the floor, and all was still.

In the distance, drag marks of blood were visible.

Some important figure must have been shot and dragged away by their subordinates.

These guys are nothing but a ragtag bunch!

"Hunting time!" Dean, donning the pig’s head mask, sneered and strode toward the end of the corridor.

Even though he had already sent his location to the FBI, that didn’t stop Dean from enjoying a bit of reverse hunting for amusement.

...

The blood on the ground guided Dean.

The scent of fresh blood kept Dean in a relatively heightened state of excitement. Adrenal enhancement pushed his senses to their peak. He was like a ferocious beast mid-hunt, possessing control and perception of his surroundings far beyond that of ordinary humans.

Following the blood trail, he arrived at an open gate and paused.

Beast Body had bestowed upon him almost supernatural perception.

A few meters away, the sounds of two rapid heartbeats and the rush of air through lungs flooded his ears.

They didn’t even close the door.

Dean shook his head and deliberately made his footsteps heavy as he walked toward the gate.

Outside the gate, two people breathing rapidly heard the previously stopped footsteps start up again and instinctively breathed a sigh of relief.

As the footsteps drew nearer, they exchanged glances, nodded, and then suddenly leaned out, firing indiscriminately ahead.

They didn’t stop until they had emptied half a magazine. Then one of them cried out, "Fuck, where is he?!"

He’d clearly heard the footsteps approaching the door! How could the man have just vanished?

Just then, a whistle came from above their heads.

The two who had ceased fire instinctively looked up.

What greeted them was the short, menacing muzzle of a gun.

RATATATA.

With a burst of rapid gunfire, the two grunts who had lain in ambush stared wide-eyed as they slowly fell to the ground.

After dealing with the two men, Dean released his grip from the top edge of the wall overhead and landed on the ground.