8: Chapter 8: The T-800 Tyrant Unleashed – It's Just a Child!

"Crash—!"

With a crisp sound, the massive floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor shattered into countless fragments. The crystal-clear glass shards fell like rain, pitter-pattering onto the expensive carpet, reflecting the frantic firelight from outside.

"Shoot! Blast them to death for me!"

Downstairs, Wild Dog's raspy, broken-gong-like voice pierced through the gunfire, carrying a hint of hysterical excitement. "Turn this crappy building into a sieve! I want to see how long that kid surnamed Chen can hide!"

It had to be said that while these thugs from the Mexican border had zero tactical prowess, their ability to create noise was definitely top-tier.

Dozens of AK-47s fired simultaneously, their tongues of fire weaving into a dense, airtight net in the night. Bullets were sprayed onto the office building's outer walls like they cost nothing, sending bricks flying and dust swirling.

Chen Yuan stood in the shadows by the window, looking at the wine glass shattered by a stray bullet at his feet, his brow furrowing slightly.

That was a high-quality crystal glass, three hundred dollars each.

"These uncultured brutes."

He brushed the dust off his suit cuffs, his eyes showing no trace of fear, only the annoyance of being disturbed by flies.

Alice stood quietly behind him, her body leaning forward slightly, ready to react to any stray bullets that might penetrate the walls.

"Boss, the damage assessment is underway."

She spoke rapidly, "The glass in the first-floor lobby is completely shattered, the outer walls are heavily damaged, and the front lawn has been torn up by tires. Estimated repair costs are fifty thousand dollars."

"Put it on the tab."

Chen Yuan said coldly, "Deduct it from their pension later—oh wait, dead men don't need pensions. Deduct it from the Black Gold Gang's vault then."

The gunfire downstairs gradually thinned out.

Perhaps these thugs thought they had already turned the people inside into mincemeat, or maybe they needed to change magazines.

Amidst the swirling dust, Wild Dog arrogantly stepped one foot onto the hood of a pickup truck and shouted into a megaphone: "Chen Yuan! Stop being a coward! Crawl out now, kowtow three times to your grandpa, and hand over the formula! I might consider leaving your corpse intact!"

What responded to him was a heart-palpitating sound of electrical current.

"Zzz— Zzz—"

The broadcasting system at the top of the office building suddenly activated.

Following that, the heavy, massive, and long-rusted rolling shutter door of the workshop emitted a sound of overburdened metal friction.

"Creeeeeak— Creeeeeak—"

The sound was dull and slow, like some giant beast from underground grinding its teeth.

The gunmen of the Wild Wolf Gang instinctively stopped firing, dozens of eyes staring intently at the iron door that was slowly rising.

Darkness.

Behind the door was a bottomless darkness.

"Playing tricks!"

Wild Dog spat and raised the RPG rocket launcher in his hand, aiming it at the pitch-black opening, "Blast it for me!"

Just as his finger was about to pull the trigger.

"Thump!"

The ground trembled.

It wasn't an illusion; it really trembled. It felt as if a heavy hammer had slammed hard against everyone's heart.

Then, a massive dark shadow slowly walked out from the darkness.

Everyone's eyes widened, and they even forgot to breathe.

Was that... a person?

Standing at least two and a half meters tall, its muscles bulged like granite, stretching the clearly makeshift, size XXXL black suit to the point of bursting. The tightened fabric strained against those terrifying muscle blocks, letting out a mournful cry as if it could tear at any moment.

It wore a comical black hood over its head, revealing only two pale, emotionless eyes.

It walked very slowly, and with every step it took, a crack would appear in the concrete ground.

"Wha... What the hell is this thing?"

Wild Dog was stunned, forgetting to fire the RPG in his hand. He had seen junkies high on drugs and gym rats who turned into monsters from steroids, but he had never seen anything so filled with such an overwhelming sense of pressure.

It was practically a tank wearing human skin.

"Fire! What are you standing there for? Fire!"

Wild Dog was the first to snap out of it, his biological instinct for fear screaming.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat!"

The gunfire erupted again.

Dozens of tongues of fire frantically licked at the massive figure.

However, the scene that unfolded in the next second caused everyone's worldview to instantly collapse.

When the bullets hit the monster's body, there was no scene of flesh and blood flying; not even a bullet hole was left behind.

"Clang, clang, clang!"

The sound was as crisp as hailstones hitting a steel plate.

The bullet heads were bounced off the moment they touched that grayish-white skin, splashing a series of dazzling sparks. That poor suit was instantly shredded into rags, revealing the skin beneath that shimmered with a metallic luster.

Tyrant No. 1 looked down at its chest.

A bullet was lodged in the gap between its muscle fibers. It reached out with its massive hand, which was covered in bone spurs, and gave it a gentle flick.

"Ping."

The bullet head hit the ground.

It looked up, its pale eyes locking firmly onto Wild Dog not far away.

"Roar—!!!"

A roar that didn't sound human exploded from its throat. The sound waves were so powerful they made the eardrums of the nearby thugs ache, causing them to crouch down while clutching their ears.

From the broadcast on the second floor, Chen Yuan's lazy voice came through at just the right time.

The voice carried a maddening nonchalance, even a hint of doting, like an owner watching their pet cause trouble:

"Everyone, could you please put your guns down?"

"You're going to scare it."

Chen Yuan stood before the shattered floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the group of thugs who were already starting to lose their nerve, a demonic smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"This is a 'child' I just adopted; he's not even a month old yet."

"If you give him psychological trauma..."

Chen Yuan's voice suddenly turned cold, like a Siberian wind sweeping across the scene.

"I'll be very distressed."

Cold sweat instantly soaked Wild Dog's back.

Child?

Not even a month old, my foot!

If this thing is a child, then what am I? A fertilized egg?!

"Retreat! Retreat now! This is a fucking monster!"

Wild Dog finally broke down. He threw away the RPG in his hand and turned to run toward the pickup truck.

But it was too late.

Tyrant No. 1 moved.

That massive body erupted with a speed that defied the laws of physics, like a black cannonball fired from a barrel, instantly leaving behind an afterimage.

"Boom!"

It slammed headfirst into the fleet of pickup trucks where the crowd was densest.

The lead pickup truck, along with the two gunmen hiding behind it, was sent flying off the ground. It flipped three times in the air before crashing heavily onto the ground, turning into a pile of scrap metal.

Screams instantly replaced the sound of gunfire.

Tyrant No. 1 casually grabbed a thug who hadn't had time to escape. Its massive hand squeezed the person's head directly, like squeezing a fragile watermelon.

"No... please..."

The thug hung in mid-air, his legs kicking wildly, and his crotch instantly became wet.

From the broadcast, Chen Yuan's voice rang out again with a playful tone like a final ultimatum:

"Tyrant, remember."

"Don't kill them all; leave a few alive."

"Our factory is expanding soon, and we just happen to need a few porters who don't require wages."