33: Chapter 33 The Fall of the Morgue: The Prelude to the Slaughter

Darkness surged in like a tide, instantly filling every corner of the morgue.

The backup power didn't last two seconds. With a dull sound of electrical overload, the few remaining emergency lights shattered into fragments.

"Pfft—"

An extremely faint sound of air being pierced.

That was the sound of a silenced gunshot, and also the sound of Death knocking at the door.

Chen Mo did not move.

The [Law of Silence] was operating at its peak at this moment. His heartbeat was forcibly suppressed to forty beats per minute, and his breathing became long and inaudible. At this moment, on an infrared thermal imager, his body temperature was even a few degrees lower than the surrounding freezers.

He was like a gecko, pressed against the back of the cold steel leg of the autopsy table.

"Zzz—"

It was that sound of a glass cutter sliding across a window again, followed immediately by the soft thud of heavy objects landing. Once, twice, three times.

Three.

Chen Mo counted silently in his heart.

The grille of the ventilation duct had been removed without any metallic clanking noise. This indicated that the opponents had undergone extremely high-intensity tactical training and were well-equipped; they even had silent pads attached to the soles of their boots.

Green laser beams crisscrossed in the darkness, cutting through the murky air.

"Target one, eliminated."

A cold, emotionless, synthesized electronic voice rang out in the darkness.

They did not fire immediately but were conducting a tactical search. This suffocating pressure was more despair-inducing than indiscriminate gunfire.

Chen Mo's hand holding the glock 17 was very steady. He was waiting.

Waiting for a gap in their breathing.

Just as one of the figures in black passed by the No. 3 morgue freezer, Chen Mo heard the sound of George pulling the fore-end of his Remington shotgun.

That sound was like a thunderclap in the dead silence.

"Welcome to the meat grinder, you bastards!"

"Boom!"

A massive muzzle flash instantly tore through the darkness.

The unique roar of the M870 shotgun echoed repeatedly in the narrow space, making one's eardrums ache.

A metal storm composed of countless steel pellets slammed into that dark shadow without reservation.

"Enemy attack! Three o'clock direction!"

The opponents' reaction was shockingly fast. Almost at the same time George fired, two other laser beams instantly locked onto the cover George was using.

"Tat-tat-tat-tat!"

The suppressed MP5 submachine guns spat tongues of fire, and dense bullets hit the metal cabinets like raindrops, sparks flying everywhere, pinning George down so he couldn't even lift his head.

Now is the time.

Chen Mo moved.

He did not stand up but slid out from behind cover in a very low posture, raising his gun with both hands and completing his aim while moving.

[Sharpshooter] activated.

Time seemed to slow down for an instant. In the darkness, those two muzzle flashes that were firing became the most conspicuous targets.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two gunshots, and two 9mm bullets precisely drilled into the junction of the two men in black's necks—that was the only gap between their body armor and helmets.

Two corpses fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Nice shot!" George roared, poking his muzzle out from behind cover and firing another booming shot at the ventilation duct, forcing back the reinforcements preparing to rappel down.

But more footsteps came from outside the corridor.

The sound of a cutting machine came from the heavy metal door, and sparks gushed out from the door gap.

"They intend to storm in." Chen Mo retreated behind cover and swapped in a new magazine. "Those were just scouts; the main force is outside."

"Those sons of bitches." George spat out the half-smoked cigar in his mouth and pulled a homemade Molotov cocktail from his pocket. "Kid, are you afraid of fire?"

"No," Chen Mo replied coldly. "But I am afraid of dying."

"That's perfect." George grinned, his eyes flashing with a crazy light. "Then let them taste my special cocktail."

The door collapsed with a bang.

Six assault team members holding riot shields filed in, their tactical movements as standard as if they were filming a textbook.

"Watch out for grenades!"

The Molotov cocktail in George's hand traced a parabolic arc and smashed precisely in front of the shield formation.

The glass shattered.

A kind of blue flame instantly surged up.

It wasn't ordinary gasoline; it was mixed with some kind of high-viscosity chemical reagent that couldn't be shaken off once it stuck to you.

"Ah—!"

Screams rang out, and the assault formation instantly fell into chaos.

"Kill!"

Chen Mo did not let this opportunity slip by. He charged out from behind cover, his figure moving like lightning.

An assault team member who was on fire tried to counterattack. Just as his muzzle lifted, Chen Mo struck his wrist with a whip kick.

The sound of bone cracking was clearly audible; [Close Quarters Combat Mastery] erupted.

Chen Mo followed through by closing in, his left hand gripping the lower edge of the opponent's helmet, his right hand pressing the glock against the opponent's jaw, and he pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Bang!"

The corpse became the best shield. Chen Mo used the dead body to tank the incoming fire, firing three shots in succession at the chaotic crowd.

Two more fell.

But this squad was clearly not ordinary mercenaries. After experiencing brief chaos, the Commander in the back row immediately ordered, "Flashbang!"

Two cylinders rolled to Chen Mo's feet.

"Close your eyes!"

Chen Mo only had time to shout once before George yanked him to the ground and dragged him under an autopsy table nearby.

"Wum—"

The intense light, accompanied by a massive ringing in his ears, instantly deprived Chen Mo of his senses.

"Damn it..." Chen Mo shook his head, his vision a wash of white, his ears filled with sharp buzzing.

He felt a rough, large hand pressing down on his shoulder.

"Can you still move?" George's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, carrying a hint of anxiety. "This was just an appetizer; they are about to get serious."

Chen Mo gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open.

In his blurred vision, countless red laser dots were converging here, like eyes opening in hell.