Otherworld Advance Team
Chapter 808 - 801: Not Yielding to Soft or Hard Tactics

Chapter 808: Chapter 801: Not Yielding to Soft or Hard Tactics

Seeing Luo’er so composed, Hu Daoke felt less nervous than before. He had always found Luo’er to be a reliable individual and was more than willing to place his trust in him.

"Fula, go see how many are behind us and whether they have any weapons," Luo’er said, lowering his head and keeping his voice down.

"Received, I’ll go now!" Fulajie’er’s voice came through his mind, and soon after, she left Luo’er’s side and flew towards their rear.

"How many waves has it been now? Just last time, a few of them were chopped dead by Feng, doesn’t anyone care about those dead men?" Hu Daoke feigned calm as he spoke.

"These underground forces are inherently on the fringes of the law; a few casualties are only to be expected. My only concern right now is whether the CIA might take the field themselves. If that happens, then we could be in some danger," Luo’er said calmly.

"Afraid of them? Even if all their agents are Rambo reincarnate, they’re no match for Feng in the Otherworld," Hu Daoke declared.

"I’m not worried about their agents, but rather whether they might invite the Otland army to join in. If they do, then we’ll need to consider whether to involve the Church Court as well. If this blows up, with our current strength, it looks like it would be very difficult to slip away, and we might even give our enemies something to hold over us," Luo’er said with concern.

"Then let’s make a move soon and not linger in Holy Heart City. This is CIA territory; we won’t have the upper hand stepping in here," Hu Daoke suggested.

"Hmm, I was thinking the same. But for now, let’s shake off the ones tailing us first," Luo’er nodded in agreement.

As they spoke, the two strolled aimlessly, leaving the crowded streets behind and entering quiet alleyways close to the slums.

According to Fulajie’er’s feedback, the man following them never gave up his shadowing, always skulking behind them from beginning to end.

Fulajie’er’s reconnaissance revealed only one man trailing them, a man around thirty to forty without weapons. This somewhat reassured them, as unarmed, the man posed no threat to them.

The two exchanged glances and then simultaneously quickened their pace, striding swiftly through the alley. The man behind immediately picked up speed to follow.

Reaching a corner, Luo’er gently nudged Hu Daoke, who tacitly split off, heading in a different direction. When the man reached the point where they had separated, he hesitated briefly before deciding to continue following Luo’er.

At this point, Luo’er didn’t need Fulajie’er to watch him anymore, so he instructed her to scout ahead to ensure he wouldn’t lose his way.

Heeding Fulajie’er’s guidance, Luo’er quickly navigated the streets and alleyways, eventually arriving at a dead end. Looking at the tall buildings in front of him, Luo’er stopped in his tracks and heaved a sigh.

"You’re quite persistent, following us all this way," Luo’er paused briefly before turning around with a relaxed face and called out to the seemingly empty space behind him.

At that moment, the man hiding around the corner heard Luo’er’s words, and his heart skipped a beat, not expecting to have been discovered so easily. Just as he was about to flee, a dark gun barrel appeared behind him, pressing against the back of his head.

"You’ve got guts, following us all the way here," Hu Daoke said, keeping the gun trained on the man’s head and speaking with a triumphant smirk.

The man tried to turn around but was immediately seized by the neck by Hu Daoke and violently pressed against the wall. "Behave yourself, or believe me, I’ll blast you," Hu Daoke said viciously.

Even though the man was decently built, he seemed very small in front of the burly Hu Daoke, who grabbed him as effortlessly as an eagle pinning a chick.

"All set, boss!" Hu Daoke called out to Luo’er, who was casually approaching.

In front of outsiders, he didn’t continue to speak Chinese with Luo’er, instead opting for Tastan.

Luo’er strolled over to the man, took the handgun from Hu Daoke, checked it over, then signaled for Hu Daoke to spin him around. With Luo’er’s command, Hu Daoke nodded, grabbed the man by the shoulders, and forcefully spun him to face them.

"Were you sent by the Booze Ghost Gang?" Luo’er asked, pressing the gun against his chin while maintaining a calm demeanor.

The man’s eyes bulged in horror as he looked at Luo’er. At that moment, Hu Daoke was choking him by the neck and pressing him against the wall with such force that it extinguished any thoughts of resistance.

"Cat got your tongue..." Seeing the man silent, Luo’er sighed with slight disappointment, then moved the gun away and gave Hu Daoke a meaningful glance.

Understanding Luo’er’s cue, Hu Daoke nodded tacitly and then suddenly landed a hook to the man’s diaphragm, one of the body’s most vulnerable spots. Struck by Hu Daoke’s powerful punch, the man immediately paled, bent over with spasms, and curled up, barely able to make a sound.

Hu Daoke was not about to give him a chance to ease the pain. He tightened his grip on the man’s neck and pressed him against the wall again, preventing him from bending over. The man, in agony, opened his mouth wide, struggling to breathe under Hu Daoke’s chokehold.

"If you don’t cooperate, you’re in for a whole lot more pain," Luo’er said indifferently, standing by and watching the man’s suffering with ease.

At this point, the man finally showed fear, looking at Luo’er with a pale face. He opened his mouth several times but never spoke.

"I’ll ask you one more time, who sent you? Don’t test my limited patience," Luo’er said.

The man looked at Luo’er in terror, breathing rapidly. His chest heaved, but he clenched his teeth, resolutely not opening his mouth.

"Keep going!" Seeing the man so stubborn, Luo’er shook his head in disappointment and then called out.

"Right!" Hu Daoke said and raised his fist, ready to throw another punch.

But this time, the two had miscalculated. Not everyone crumbles after a bit of torture. The man before them was a tough nut to crack.

Seeing that Hu Daoke was about to continue the beating, the man, refusing to be a punching bag, suddenly bit down on Hu Daoke’s wrist and kicked towards his stomach.

"Ow!" Hu Daoke yelped in pain and released his grip, retreating repeatedly while clutching his stomach in agony.

The man, once freed, hit the ground running like an arrow released from a bow, turning and fleeing back the way he came.

Though he had guts, he made a fundamental error. No matter how fast he ran, he could never outrun a bullet.

Luo’er raised his pistol and fired three shots at the fleeing man’s back. The gun, equipped with a Magic Silencer, didn’t make any noise. Two bullets hit his thigh, and another struck his buttocks.

The man only felt numbness in his thigh before his body uncontrollably lurched forward, tripping and falling flat on his face.

"You okay?" After taking the man down, Luo’er turned and looked at Hu Daoke with concern.

"I’m fine, it’s nothing," Hu Daoke straightened up, his eyes flashing fiercely. He snatched the pistol from Luo’er’s hand and, gritting his teeth, said, "I’m going to slaughter that old bastard!"

"Watch out!" Before Hu Daoke could raise the pistol, a cry of alarm came from Luo’er behind him.

Immediately after, Luo’er pushed him to the side and drew his own gun from under his armpit, aiming at a figure appearing around the corner and pulling the trigger repeatedly.

The Magic Silencer on the gun trembled silently, bullets flying out of the chamber as shell casings clattered to the ground.

Around the corner, several men had just appeared and were greeted by a burst from Luo’er; two were taken down instantly, while the others quickly retreated, taking cover back around the corner.

Luo’er wasn’t killing indiscriminately; these men clearly weren’t up to any good, almost all of them keeping their hands in their pockets. After one of them was downed by Luo’er, his hand left his pocket, and Luo’er saw exactly what he expected: a pistol involuntarily drawn from the man’s pocket.