88: Chapter 88 New Life

Marcus's voice was low, but every word struck like a beat on a drum.

"Boss, three of them."

Chen Feng's gaze swept past Marcus's shoulder, landing on the three "medical staff" pushing a medicine cart toward them.

Their white coats were a bit too clean, and they bulged underneath. Their walking posture showed a very stable center of gravity.

These weren't doctors; these were people fresh off the battlefield.

The lead "doctor" stopped ten meters away. He looked up, no longer glancing at the medical chart in his hand, and his grey eyes locked directly onto Chen Feng and Marcus at the emergency room entrance.

He grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.

"Umbrella Corporation? Our boss sent me to give his regards."

As soon as he spoke, the two people behind him abruptly threw back the white cloth covering the medicine cart—underneath weren't medicines, but two black MP5 submachine guns.

There were a few police officers in the hallway who had come to investigate. The moment they saw the guns, they instinctively reached for their sidearms.

But it was too late.

Puff puff puff—!

The silenced submachine guns emitted muffled bursts. Bullets instantly peppered the wall next to the police, sending stone fragments and dust flying.

The police officers were pinned back into the corners by the terrifying firepower, unable to even lift their heads.

"Clear the area."

The lead assassin gave a brief command, then pulled a similarly silenced pistol from beneath his white coat and aimed it at Marcus.

Marcus reacted extremely fast. The moment the opponent raised his hand, he yanked Chen Feng back and stepped in front to shield him, drawing his own pistol at the same time.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out, far louder than the opponent's muffled bursts.

The bullet hit the cart, sparking a trail of fire.

But the enemy's firepower was too intense. The crossfire from the two submachine guns instantly sealed off the entire hallway. Marcus could only return fire from behind the doorframe, but he was completely suppressed. His rifle was still in the car downstairs.

"Boss, get inside!" Marcus shouted.

But Chen Feng didn't move.

He watched the lead assassin approach step by step, his expression not even changing.

Because he heard a sound.

There was a soft click from the emergency room door lock.

The door opened.

Everyone's movements paused for a second.

Even the gunfire stopped.

In the hallway, everyone's eyes—the assassins, the police, Marcus, and Amy—all focused on that slowly opening door.

Sarah, dressed in grey sportswear and barefoot, walked out of the room.

Her blonde hair was a bit messy, but her face was no longer deathly pale; instead, it held a healthy glow. Her gaze was calm, her azure eyes scanning the tense scene in the hallway as if she were watching a play that had nothing to do with her.

Amy covered her mouth, tears nearly falling again. "Sister..."

The lead assassin froze for a moment, then smiled.

"Still alive?"

He raised his pistol and aimed it at the center of Sarah's forehead.

"I'll send you on your way."

He pulled the trigger.

"No!" Amy screamed.

Marcus's pupils constricted; it was too late to lunge forward.

The muzzle spat fire.

The bullet tore through the air.

Then, everyone witnessed a scene they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

Sarah simply tilted her head three centimeters to the right.

With such an insignificant movement, the bullet that should have blown her head apart whistled past her cheek and struck the wall behind her.

A strand of golden hair was caught in the air current, slowly drifting down.

The entire hallway was deathly silent.

The smile on the lead assassin's face froze.

His two accomplices were also stunned, their hands holding the submachine guns forgetting to fire.

What was this? Luck?

Sarah's gaze fell upon the lead assassin's face.

In her vision, the entire world had changed.

The flow of air, the frequency of everyone's heartbeat, the trajectory of the bullet as it left the barrel—so clear she could see the rifling marks—everything became slow and distinct.

She moved.

In the eyes of others, she simply left an afterimage where she had been standing.

The lead assassin only felt a blur before his eyes before an irresistible, massive force slammed into his chest.

He didn't even feel pain.

He only heard a sickening sound of bones shattering.

It was his own voice.

He looked down and saw his chest completely caved in, with the imprint of Sarah's palm still there.

Then he flew backward like a tattered sack, hit the wall, slid down, and became silent.

It all happened too fast, so fast that the brains of the other two assassins hadn't finished processing what had just occurred.

They instinctively turned their guns and fired wildly at Sarah's figure.

Da-da-da-da-da!

A dense rain of bullets poured out.

But it was useless.

Sarah's body moved through the rain of bullets in a way that defied the laws of physics.

Her movements weren't large; there were no exaggerated rolls or jumps like in movies, just simple tilts, ducks, and twists. Every movement was precise to the millimeter, perfectly avoiding every single bullet.

She was like a ghost strolling through the rain, and those lethal bullets were merely falling raindrops.

Before the horror in one assassin's eyes could fully manifest, Sarah was already in front of him.

He tried to strike her with the butt of his gun, but Sarah's speed was ten times faster than his.

A hand-blade strike.

It accurately sliced into his wrist.

Crack!

The wrist snapped, and the submachine gun fell to the floor.

Immediately after, Sarah kicked out, striking the falling submachine gun.

The black metal block tumbled through the air like a brick, slamming hard into the face of the other assassin.

That assassin gave a muffled groan as his nose collapsed, and he fell over with a face full of blood.

It had taken less than ten seconds in total.

Three well-equipped professional assassins: one dead on the spot with a shattered sternum, and two incapacitated, groaning on the floor.

In the hallway, only Sarah remained standing.

Not even a speck of dust had touched her.

Marcus lowered his gun, his mouth slightly agape. He had seen the Nemesis's slaughter; that was pure power and brutality. But he had never seen a fight like this.

It wasn't slaughter; it was more like an art. A lethal, elegant art.

Amy was completely dumbfounded.

She looked at her sister standing in the middle of the hallway, barefoot, her eyes as calm as a pool of lake water, her mind a complete blank.

Is this my sister?

The sister who was just in the emergency room, declared by the doctor to have only ten minutes of life left?

The suppressed police officers also slowly poked their heads out. Seeing the scene in the hallway, their eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

What happened?

Is this a movie?

Sarah paid no mind to the stunned gazes around her.

She slowly raised her hands, spreading them before her eyes.

She felt no discomfort, not even the slightest sensation of recoil.

That surging power was still flowing through her veins. Every heartbeat injected new energy into this body.

She remembered the words Chen Feng had whispered in her ear.

"A person who can master their own destiny."

So this was what it felt like to master one's own destiny.

Sarah's gaze shifted from its initial confusion, bit by bit becoming clear, until it finally transformed into an unprecedented resolve.

She slowly clenched her fists.

This power was the capital for her revenge.

Chen Feng leaned against the doorframe, watching all of this with a satisfied smile on his face.

He stepped forward and draped a coat over Sarah's shoulders.

"Welcome back."

Then, he glanced at the three half-dead assassins on the floor before looking back at Sarah.

"Now, you should believe that I can help you solve your troubles."