Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 335 - 214: Elite Squad, One Man Rampage_2

Chapter 335: Chapter 214: Elite Squad, One Man Rampage_2

Almost simultaneously,

Brian’s mind rippled with countless waves, his figure flashed, and he turned into an afterimage, vanishing above the road.

This speed...

Everyone on the scene who saw Brian widened their eyes in disbelief, thinking they were hallucinating.

The junior patrol officer who had followed Brian was especially terrified.

If not for the pager still in his hand, he almost thought he might have taken drugs, to believe that Autopsy Officer Brian had just been with him.

"NW Second-level Staff... NW Second-level Staff... Could this be why NW has such high status in Los Angeles..."

The junior patrol officer murmured to himself.

The afterimage that Autopsy Officer Brian left behind, with a speed nearly akin to instant teleportation, almost made him believe he had seen a comic book superhero descend to Earth...

...

Hundreds of meters away, at the top of a light sign, a man lying down frowned.

Where is he?

This kind of speed...

He seemed to think of something, and fear appeared on his composed face.

Damn it, they’re those modified monsters!

They were merely attracting the attention of those around, how could it bring such a powerful official person to join the fight so quickly!!!

Without hesitation, the sniper urgently communicated through his radio: "The plan has changed, everyone..."

He didn’t finish his sentence.

The next moment,

There were knocking sounds beneath him.

He looked down reflexively, only to see the muzzle of a gun aimed at him...

Bang~

A gunshot echoed.

The concealed sniper, spotter, and temporary commander died on the spot.

"Plan?"

Looking at the body that collapsed and fell at his feet, Brian frowned.

He casually flicked away a drop of blood falling from the sky, bent down to pocket the man’s radio, and his face broke into a charming smile as he turned back into an afterimage, rushing towards the residential areas.

Screw whatever the plan is.

All he wanted to do now was kill.

Four in a row.

A surge of uncontrolled excitement bubbled up, finally transforming into a blood moon afterimage that flickered in and out of existence in Brian’s indifferent eyes.

Invisible ripples spread from his mouth in all directions, forming colorless three-dimensional contours that revealed the silhouettes of armed thugs hiding in the buildings in Brian’s mind.

It was as if he had activated a perspective hack, whistling while he shot each armed bandit dead at their hiding spots.

Crushing these ordinary people to death was no more difficult than crushing ants.

...

Listening to the screams coming through his ears,

Two Mexican men on the attic roof of a residential building showed panic.

One of them looked anxiously at his companion, "Fifteen people, it looks like it’s just us left now."

"It can’t be..." his companion clutched the rocket launcher in his hand, "How could these Raki police of Los Angeles be so powerful? We’re from a special operations squad; even massacring civilians wouldn’t go this fast, there must have been some accident... Didn’t you hear Number One say the plan had changed!!!"

He tried to convince himself.

Their current position was dire, with no way forward or back.

If there was a problem with his companion, then the Los Angeles police would definitely search this place, and they would have no chance to evacuate according to the original plan.

Just as these two men were frightened,

Brian’s figure flashed and he jumped up to the second floor; in mid-air, his pistol magazine was ejected; as he landed on the balcony, a new magazine was already clicked in, completing the reload.

Looking at the man who fell on the balcony, with eyes filled with terror looking up at him, Brian squatted down, showing a gentle smile to the man, "Can you tell me who you are?"

The thugs in plain sight had already been killed by him within a little over two minutes.

Even though he was still not satisfied, Brian deliberately left this gunman in a blind spot, trying to interrogate him for information.

Looking at the handsome and fair-faced Brian, the man shot in all limbs was so terrified that he was out of his wits, his pupils dilated, and he kept calling out the word ’monster’ in Spanish.

Murky liquid continuously dribbled out of the man’s mouth.

Brian took a slight sniff, knowing the guy was scared out of his wits.

"Forget it..."

Brian twirled his gun and with one punch knocked the man out cold, then lifted him and jumped off the balcony that was over three meters high, tossing the man’s unconscious body onto the lawn in the backyard, ready to leave him for the police as a living witness for interrogation.

Killing too smoothly, he forgot to keep a few more alive.

Hoping there’d still be survivors among the thugs...

With this thought in mind, Brian whistled as he emitted bursts of ultrasound, scanning the vicinity and started wandering around the nearby houses.

The most effective use of ultrasound was direct feedback, which meant returning from the first obstacle and forming the clearest image.

But it could also penetrate gaps, just not form images.

Brian was so freakish because his vision and sense of smell were also exaggerated, enabling him to easily distinguish any remaining scent of gunfire and thereby accurately track and eliminate the thugs with efficient killing.

...

Having searched round twice,

Brian, smelling of gunpowder, emerged from the last building.

He dragged the previously taken-down, limb-incapacitated gunman to the ground and gestured to the patrolling officers in the distance that it was safe now.

A plump officer, upon seeing this, had his chubby cheeks twitch and turned to the skinny officer behind him, "Hey, how long has he been in there?"

The skinny officer uncertainly replied, "Seven minutes, or maybe eight minutes, definitely no more than ten!"

"This Second-level Staff from the NW is amazing, how could there be someone this formidable in the world."

The fat officer exclaimed in awe, without much consideration he stood up and, taking a shotgun, trotted towards Brian.

Seeing this, the skinny officer bit his lip, gripped his handgun tightly, and followed.

The fat partner was a meat shield he had been nurturing for over two years, he couldn’t let him go down here!

Faster than them was the young officer who had previously contacted Brian by car.

His face dripping with sweat, as though he’d been through a great battle without firing a single shot, he gasped, "Autopsy Officer Brian, is everything here... all taken care of?"

Brian shrugged, "Pretty much, have your colleagues take this man to the hospital for treatment, and clear the bodies nearby. Oh, and under that billboard up ahead, there’s one more, plus this one on the ground, makes thirteen in total. Don’t miss any."

The young officer pulled out his phone, glanced at the time, and fell silent.

Real freak!

Just minutes, thirteen well-trained armed thugs that had the patrol officers unable to even approach, under fire from scattered points, were all taken down—was this the true strength of an NW organization staff?

Too powerful!

He quickly gestured to the other officers to help.

Following Brian, he had made his presence known this time; from now on, even boasting over drinks would make others envious!

...

Watching the bustling officers, Brian holstered his gun and quietly lit a cigarette.

Satisfied, but not completely.

Such low-intensity combat was akin to slaughter for him, offering no sense of achievement at all.

Right...

Brian exhaled a cloud of smoke and pulled out the communication device he had confiscated from the sniper, coughed twice, and three seconds later, his voice transformed into the other’s.

A mischievous smile crept onto his face as he softly said into the device in United States English, "Change of plan, the police have sent a pro, remaining team, report in with your status!"

In the attic, two brothers who were contemplating their escape heard a familiar voice resume in the dead-quiet headset, exchanged a look, and both showed a hint of elation.

One of them quickly grabbed the headset, pressed several concealed buttons, and began to hastily speak into the communication channel in Spanish, "Number One, this is..."

The other one suddenly realized something was off, covered his companion’s mouth: "Wait, why would Number One use the official Federation language!"

In most countries around the globe, even if the Federation language isn’t the official one, it’s one of the main languages.

Mexico was no different.

Many there spoke English.

But as comrades who had come from a combat unit, most of the time they communicated in the official language—Spanish—and in special times, they used a more obscure indigenous language as encryption.

Something’s wrong with Number One!

Alas, by the time they realized it, it was too late.

Brian watched the abruptly silent headset and gently crushed it.

His eyes scanned the building opposite, quickly pinpointing a three-story house from which observation of this side would be easy.

Almost at the same moment, two little heads in the attic window of the three-story house also looked this way, their gazes meeting with Brian’s...