?Chapter 340:
The tension was palpable among the crowd, many of whom had their eyes tightly shut.
It felt as though someone had hit mute, leaving only the pained cries of a young girl echoing, “Daddy! Daddy,e back!”
After a tense pause, no gunshot rang out. The anticipated bang never came.
The tearful man hesitated before finally lowering the handgun, his relief evident as the feared shot failed to fire.
A cheer broke out from the crowd, quickly turning into a chorus of apuse and jubtion.
The man had survived!
Katelyn exhaled deeply in relief, silently cheering for the man’s fortune.
The strain of the moment eased, and only then did she realize she had been gripping Vincent’s hand the entire time, now marked by red imprints.
Quickly, she released his hand, stammering apologies. “Sorry, Mr. Adams. I didn’t mean to.”
Vincent shrugged off the difort with a casual, “No worries.”
But the ordeal on stage wasn’t over. The game continued.
The relieved man handed the gun back to the scarred man. “It’s your turn. Or you don’t have to pull the trigger and just let us go,” the winner suggested.
With a sinister smile, the scarred man took the gun, pressed it to his temple, and provocatively dared, “Dream on!”
A gunshot shattered the brief silence that followed, and a body thudded onto the stage.
The crowd gasped in horror as they witnessed the scene—one man stood unharmed while the othery motionless, a fatal wound in his temple.
Explore fantastic tales on gα?ησν????s; ?οm
It was the scarred man who stood, smirking coldly as he blew smoke from the barrel of the gun.
“Sorry, I forgot to mention—I decide who wins or loses here!” Hisugh echoed over the crowd, chilling in its disregard for life, as if he were orchestrating their fates like a malevolent puppet master.
The crowd was initially stunned, their gazes vacant as the scarred man suddenly turned his weapon and fatally shot another man, who was desperately reaching for his family in his final moments.
The shocking turn of events ignited fury among the onlookers once they regained their senses.
One person, unable to contain his anger, stood up and shouted at the shooter, “What right do you have to do this? He was just trying to secure a chance for his wife and daughter! You shameless bastard! You’ll go to hell!”
His protest was swiftly silenced by a bullet from the shooter.
Katelyn, overwhelmed by anger and disgust, thought, What gives them the right to dictate life and death just because they wield guns? This is outrageous!<fnc722> Fresh chapters posted on find(?)ovel</fnc722>
She was convinced that the bloodshed and the lives taken by these men would forever haunt them.
Vincent seized her wrist as she prepared to stand.
His voice was a chilling whisper. “Think carefully. Your bravery won’t save them now.”
Katelyn, with fire in her bloodshot eyes, retorted, “I’ll take them down, even if it means my own demise!”
Her emotions surged. It had been years since she’d felt such visceral hatred, wishing death upon her foes. For these tormentors, human lives were as trivial as dust. Knowing full well the risks, Katelyn was resolute to fight for everyone’s survival.
She clutched the small, concealed gun in her coat pocket, a token from Vincent, reminiscent of their time at the shooting range.
She had gauged the distance carefully. The man with the scar was within her reach.
Her intent wasn’t a death wish, but a readiness to sacrifice her life to take him down.
Vincent’s gaze was intense as he watched her, perceiving the resolve in Katelyn’s eyes.
A twinge of fear gripped him—the fear of losing her. He tightened his hold on her, pleading, “Hold on. Samuel and the rest areing. These viins will pay for their actions.”
Katelyn looked at the little girl weeping for her lost father, bit down hard on her resolve, and finally decided to wait.
As machine guns roared, quelling the uproar, even the seething crowd was subdued.
The hostages, huddled together, became pawns in a governmental standoff.
Suddenly, gunfire shattered the tense silence from behind.
.
.
.