Munitions Empire

"Ah!" Qiumuluo let out a desperate roar as if to vent the suppressed fury within him.

He simply couldn't figure out why his operation had been exposed this time or where the problem had arisen.

The others seemed to have been aware of all their plans in advance, yet the plan had been concocted on the road with Skinny and Strongman, two people who had no chance of betraying him.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Suddenly, Qiumuluo thought of Marvel, that seemingly harmless and unproblematic contact.

"It was him! It was him!" he screamed frantically as blood spurted from the holes in his body, "Come out! You come out! Bastard! Bastard!"

He struggled to sit up when a subordinate using the carriage as cover was hit by a bullet and collapsed beside him.

Bullets striking the already lifeless corpse still managed to splatter flesh and blood, some of which landed on Qiumuluo, but he was unaware.

Having gone mad, he struggled to his feet and rushed towards the gates of The Earl's Mansion, convinced that if he could break through that door, he still had a chance.

The wooden door... gave him hope.

As he readied himself to charge the door, his last surviving subordinate was shot in the head. The skull shattered, and blood sprayed everywhere.

In the hail of bullets, Qiumuluo finished his preparations, took a deep breath, then limped toward the heavy door reinforced with iron bars.

He imagined breaking through that door and heroically storming the building to continue the fight against his damned enemies.

Unfortunately, the moment he collided with the door, he suddenly remembered something—he was no longer the man he had been three years ago!

Three years earlier, he had been strong and muscular, with tendons as hard as iron, giving him the brute force to easily break open ordinary doors.

The man he was now had shriveled to bones—the wounds on his body had drained him of his vigor, leaving him unable to bustle with as much life as before.

Therefore, contrary to what he had imagined, he slumped against the heavy door like a lump of mud, only managing to daze himself.

The cold, heavy door was impenetrable. He felt like he had hit a wall, and everything spun around him.

By the time he came to, he saw the fake coachman subordinate who had been shot to pieces against the door, staring at him with blood-drenched eyes.

Instantly, he was scared and wanted to retreat, to get away from the corpse of the subordinate who died with his eyes wide open.

Before he could even retreat, several bullets struck his back, creating more holes.

He knew he was finished. Despite having miraculously escaped death so many times before, this time he could sense his end was near.

At that moment, he was surrounded in a hopeless situation. Unlike before, nobody was going to pull him out of this chaos.

As he lay against the door, he listened to the gunshots dwindling around him, feeling the life slowly seep out of his body.

Finally, as he felt close to death, he heard a man's voice, "This person... look at the tattoo... seems like that wanted criminal..."

"It's him! The very murderer who killed Lord Earl Fisheo!" another voice exclaimed, "Don't let him die! Check his clothes and remove all weapons! Stay alert for safety!"

With his face pressed against the door, Qiumuluo no longer had the strength to lift his head to see who was talking behind him.

However, for some reason, he could still hear clearly the people behind him talking, "Should we notify Lady Alice?"

He swore he had never listened to someone speaking as intently as he did now. Every word, every pause rang in his brain like a bell.

He could feel someone frisking him, a strong hand pulling his last Left-Wheel Handgun from his waist.

For a moment, he felt hands on his thighs and buttocks, and if not for the multiple gunshots in his body, he might have strangled the bastard who dared to touch him.

But soon, his fading attention was drawn to the conversation, "What a joke... this is a battlefield, we can't ensure Lady Alice's absolute safety."

"So what do we do with this man?" As he heard the question, he was curious about how they would deal with him.

After all, he was a wanted criminal—with Great Tang Group offering 5,000 Gold Coins for his head and Lady Alice Ronin from Northern Ridge offering a whopping 10,000 Gold Coins.

If that girl Alice could come and kill him herself, then he might have a chance—as long as they let their guard down, he might just manage to take a woman down with him before he died.

Heh heh, heh heh...

He even laughed in his mind, even thought he had already gripped a woman's slender neck.

Watching the dying Qiumuluo, the commander from Great Tang Group said coldly, "How else to deal with him? Kill him, then report to Lady Alice."

Qiumuluo was stunned, then heard another voice inquire, "Understood... shall you do it, or shall I?"

"At your pleasure, if you wish, you can make your move now." Such a voice made Qiumuluo shiver to the core.

He really hadn't expected that these people weren't planning to take credit for capturing him, but were actually ready to finish him off directly.

Then, he heard someone else say, "You do it! I don't want to write those boring reports."

The fact that the other party even humbly passed on the act of shooting made him feel humiliated, a kind of disdainful contempt.

So, his fingers twitched, wanting to lash out in retaliation, to show these two bastards the formidable power of Qiumuluo.

But, it seemed only his fingertips responded to his will.

Immediately after, the two people behind him decided who would do it: "Hmm, I'll do it."

Then, Qiumuluo heard the clicking sound of a gun being loaded.

"Bang!"...

A gunshot sounded, and Qiumuluo, with one arm and a lame leg... died.

Count Fisheo's great hatred had, at this moment, been partially avenged.

...

In Dragon City, as dawn was barely breaking, in the huge dining hall of Tang Mo's castle, Li'ao brought news that had just been received: "Master! News just back from Wolf City, our men carried out the plan and wiped out the assassins who targeted Miss Alice."

Tang Mo had just finished breakfast, a lavish meal consisting of fresh milk, bread, sauce-coated chicken, and seven or eight types of vegetables and fruit.

For Tang Mo, no matter how extravagant, it was already considered frugal—for he was now wealthy enough to rival nations, and truly did not need to restrain himself when it came to food.

The only concern was his own health issues; too much cholesterol, unhealthy eating, leading to high blood pressure, diabetes—that would be a form of suicide.

So he had just a little bit of each item, and while wiping his mouth, he asked, "No one was hurt, right?"

The dining table he was sitting at was incredibly large, capable of comfortably seating dozens of people at once.

This table was intended for when Tang Mo hosted dinners inside the castle, but no one had yet had the honor of attending such an event.

"No one was hurt, Qiumuluo is dead," Li'ao reported respectfully, standing by Tang Mo's side.

"...There weren't any surprises this time, were there?" Tang Mo put down his napkin and glanced at Li'ao.

He had known since yesterday that the leader of the opposition's operation was Qiumuluo, which was another reason he changed his mind and decided not to wait for them to act, but to strike first.

Li'ao felt somewhat embarrassed, as after all, part of the reason Qiumuluo had survived until today was Silver Fox's negligence. So he lowered his head slightly and spoke in a subdued tone, "There were no surprises, it has been confirmed it was him. It's just that he had lost a lot of weight, which helped him evade many pursuits."

After a pause of a second, he continued, "He has been punished these past two years; his body had only one hand and one leg, as his one hand and one leg had been amputated..."

"What kind of punishment is that? He died too easily..." Tang Mo snorted coldly. He had always had a good relationship with Count Fisheo, liking such an upright and open person, so he hated the murderer who plotted against Fisheo to the bone.

Moreover... Now that Fisheo's daughter was with him, Tang Mo naturally would not easily let Qiumuluo off the hook.

"Sorry, the commanding officer on the scene feared a prolonged night might bring more dreams, so they executed him directly. Should we discipline them?" asked Li'ao.

Tang Mo waved his hand, "What are you talking about! The commander on the front line did well. Continue to follow this judgment in the future! Rather than concern for a dead man, I care more about the safety of our own people."

"Yes, Master," Li'ao acquiesced, "Everyone will sing praises of your benevolence."

"Enemies won't sing praises of my benevolence... Li'ao." Tang Mo stood up. "Is everything alright on Alice's end?"

"Nothing is wrong, Miss Alice insisted on seeing Qiumuluo's body. Then she took people to Lord Earl Fisheo's grave..." Li'ao answered.

Tang Mo nodded and headed towards the door, "Well now, the enemy's claws reaching towards me have been chopped off... So, isn't it time they realize that reaching out their claws at us is an extremely foolish thing to do?"

Li'ao followed behind Tang Mo, speaking as they walked, "Our people will begin the action soon..."

"I don't want to hear of failure, our men had better come back safe," Tang Mo said, not looking back as he led the way.

"Yes." Li'ao continued to affirm, "Your subordinate will do his utmost..."

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Staying up late is really inefficient... Evading and procrastinating all day and barely able to write out 100 words...