295: Mortals Kill Gods

Chapter 295: Mortal Bones Slaying Gods. "Find that councilman."

Chen Mo said coldly, "Or find that Russell."

"What do you want with him? For justice?" the green text mocked.

"For the path."

Chen Mo raised his foot and kicked a table out of his way. "K is dead, and the elevator is destroyed. If I want to reach the top floor, I need someone to lead the way. Since this is a marketplace, the buyer must know how to see the seller."

"Makes sense."

The green text quickly searched. "Councilman Russell, current location: VIP Box 1. It's at your three o'clock position, behind that golden door. However, I should warn you, those two gatekeepers at the entrance don't look like they'll be easy to deal with."

Chen Mo turned his head.

Sure enough.

Standing before that door were two cyborgs over two meters tall.

They held heavy kinetic shields, their bodies covered in reactive armor.

This kind of equipment couldn't even be penetrated by armor-piercing rounds.

And Chen Mo only had a small handgun with seven bullets in his hand.

And a crippled arm.

"Don't splash blood on the carpet."

Chen Mo suddenly remembered what that fat man had said earlier.

He smiled.

Then he walked toward a liquor cabinet nearby.

It was filled with high-proof vodka and rum.

"What are you doing?" the green text asked. "Drowning your sorrows?"

"Disinfecting."

Chen Mo picked up a bottle of vodka, bit off the cap, tilted his head back to take a large gulp, and then poured the rest of the liquor over his left arm.

The high-concentration alcohol seeped into the wounds and the gaps in the circuitry.

The pain was piercing.

But his face remained expressionless.

Next, he pulled out the silver lighter K had left behind from his pocket.

Snap.

A flame flickered up.

"Hey!" the green text exclaimed. "You're not planning to..."

Whoosh—!

Chen Mo set his left arm on fire.

The remaining engine oil and alcohol instantly ignited, and blue flames enveloped the entire metal arm.

The intense heat scorched his skin, but he could no longer feel the pain.

He had become a man holding a torch.

"Come on."

Chen Mo looked at the two heavily armored gatekeepers and raised his burning left fist. "Does this look like a performance now?"

The two gatekeepers exchanged a glance, raised their shields, and charged.

Like two tanks.

Chen Mo didn't dodge.

At the last moment, he suddenly performed a slide, his body hugging the ground as he slid through the gap between the two men.

Raising his gun with his right hand, he fired three shots at the fire sprinklers on the ceiling.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sprinklers burst.

But it wasn't water that sprayed out.

It was dry powder extinguishing agent.

White dust instantly filled the entire space, obscuring vision.

The two gatekeepers lost their target and swung their shields blindly.

And in this white, chaotic haze, a ball of blue flame appeared like a ghost.

Chen Mo leapt out from the smoke.

His burning left fist slammed down like a falling meteor, striking hard at the neck joint of one gatekeeper.

There was no armor covering that spot, only exposed heat pipes.

The high temperature instantly melted the rubber tubing.

Combined with the physical impact of dozens of kilograms...

Crack.

The gatekeeper collapsed to his knees like a puppet with its strings cut.

As the other gatekeeper tried to turn, Chen Mo had already plucked a high-explosive grenade from the fallen man's body.

He pulled the pin.

He stuffed it into the gap of the other man's shield handle.

Then he kicked him into the door of the VIP box.

Boom!!!

The golden door of the box was blown off.

A shockwave mixed with screams surged out.

Chen Mo patted out the fire on his left arm and stepped inside.

The box was a mess.

A middle-aged man in a gray suit was cowering in the corner of a sofa, clutching an exquisite self-defense pistol, trembling violently.

This was Councilman Russell, the one who wanted to buy a heart.

Chen Mo walked over and stepped on the hand holding the gun.

The sound of breaking bone rang out.

"Agh—!" Russell screamed.

Chen Mo leaned down, his face covered in blood and soot closing in on Russell.

"It seems your heart isn't doing so well."

Chen Mo pointed to his own chest. "I heard you wanted to get a new one?"

Russell looked at him in terror, as if he were looking at a demon.

"I want to exchange something too."

Chen Mo grabbed Russell's tie and hauled him up. "I want to exchange for a ticket to the top floor. What do you think of this deal?"

Russell nodded frantically, snot and tears streaming down his face.

"Very good."

Chen Mo let go and helped straighten his crooked tie.

Even though it was now covered in bloody fingerprints.

"Now then, lead the way, Mr. Councilman."

Chen Mo glanced back outside the door.

On the once-pristine white carpet, there was now not only blood, but also oil, dust, and debris.

It was a total mess.

"Sorry."

He shrugged at the empty hall. "Charge the cleaning fee to K's account too."

...Blood dripped onto the pure white floor tiles, like plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

Russell walked very slowly.

Not because he wanted to stall for time, but because his right index finger was bent backward ninety degrees. With every step, a piercing pain shot from his nerve endings straight to his skull.

"Hurry up."

Chen Mo gave him a push from behind.

The force wasn't great, but it was enough to make the pampered councilman stumble.

This was a white corridor that seemed to stretch on forever.

There were no windows, no door numbers, and not even a speck of dust.

Cold light sources were embedded in the walls, illuminating the place like a shadowless operating room.

The air smelled of disinfectant.

"Ahead... is the private elevator."

Russell panted heavily, pointing at the thick titanium alloy door at the end of the corridor. "It requires high-level biological verification. Iris, voiceprint, and... genetic sequence."

He looked back at Chen Mo, his eyes flickering. "My hand is broken; it might affect the palm print recognition."

"Then use your left hand."

Chen Mo was expressionless. That scorched mechanical left arm hung from his shoulder like a piece of dead wood, rattling with the sound of clashing parts as he walked.

"If the left hand doesn't work either, I'll cut off your head and just scan your face."

Russell shuddered.

He could tell that this madman wasn't joking.

This guy really would cut off his head to use as an IC card.

"No... no need."

Russell swallowed hard. "I can try to override the security protocols."

The two reached the door.

The door looked sturdier than a bank vault's. There were no keyholes on the surface, only a pitch-black glass panel.

Russell tremblingly reached out his left hand and pressed it against the panel.

Beep.

A green light swept over it.

[Palm print verification passed.]

"Please look into the camera," the electronic voice said emotionlessly.

Russell leaned close to the panel, his eyes wide.

Just as the red light scanned his iris, his pupils constricted sharply, and his eyeballs flicked to the bottom right at a minute angle.

It was a distress signal.

A specific eye movement trajectory would trigger a silent alarm, simultaneously locking the door and releasing nerve gas.

As a councilman, he knew this process all too well.

If he could just stall for thirty seconds, the internal security forces would burst from the ceiling crawlspace and turn this barbarian into a sieve.

[Iris verification...]

The electronic voice suddenly glitched.

A hand abruptly clamped onto the back of Russell's head.

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