I Received Messages From Future Self!

Chapter 158: Chapter 158: The Middle-Aged Man’s Divine Maneuver

The moment the lock fell, Fatty didn’t hesitate to raise his gun and aim at the hollow lock hole.

However, someone was faster than Fatty.

A loud gunshot rang out, followed by a scream from outside and the voice of the second team leader shouting, “Quick, someone’s been shot, call for medical assistance.”

Fatty was stunned and looked at the middle-aged man in surprise.

That’s right, the one who had just shot the police officer was the middle-aged man!

“From this angle, I could just see the cop’s thigh, so I fired,”

...

the middle-aged man shrugged and explained.

Hearing this, Fatty and the rebellious youth looked at each other, speechless.

The original intention to shoot through this lock hole was just to scare the police breaking in and delay their entry, but unexpectedly, it had actually wounded an unlucky guy.

“Well done!”

The rebellious youth praised.

The middle-aged man nodded, said nothing, still aiming his gun at the lock hole, waiting for another chance to fire.

Seeing this, the rebellious youth thought to himself, “This guy is ruthless!”

Source: , updated on ƝονǤ0.ᴄօ

The middle-aged man’s actions had far exceeded those of a normal person. The rebellious youth felt that one could only say the middle-aged man was naturally a bad seed, heartless and cruel, suited to being a villain.

An ordinary person, even if controlled by drugs, having been a civilian for more than a decade, even decades, would instinctively fear the police, let alone shoot at them.

“Don’t need a target to shoot!”

“Use stray bullets to drive them back!”

After a moment’s thought, the rebellious youth said.

Saying this, he took out two magazines and handed them to the middle-aged man, signaling him to play it by ear.

The middle-aged man took the magazines, slipped them into his pocket, listened for a moment, then slightly shifted the barrel of his gun and pulled the trigger.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

Three more shots!

“Ah….”

There was another scream from outside.

“Captain, I’ve been hit by a stray bullet!”

A somewhat pained voice came from outside.

Upon hearing this, even the rebellious youth was shocked.

Fatty yelled out, “Damn, he got hit again?”

The middle-aged man smiled, still not lowering his gun, continuing to aim at the lock hole, listening intently.

“Hurry up and tend to the wounded, stay away from that damned lock hole, keep breaking in, I’m going to kill those bastards inside,”

the second team leader’s angry voice floated into the room from the hallway.

The second team leader felt his blood pressure rising.

Just trying to breach a door, his Criminal Investigation Second Team had already seen two men wounded.

With the actual storming still to come, it was uncertain how many more men might be lost; the second team leader was even prepared to resign over this debacle.

This was a failure in his command on site.

It was all because he had not thought thoroughly beforehand, failing to contact other departments for a joint operation.

The sound of chaotic footsteps came from outside, obviously people rushing forward to carry the two shot individuals away.

Hearing the footsteps, the middle-aged man’s expression turned cold.

With a “click,” he ejected the magazine from his gun.

He quickly pulled out a new magazine from his pocket, inserted it into the gun, chambered a round, and raised his gun to shoot through the lock hole.

The more people outside, the higher the chance of a blind cat meeting a dead mouse; he took this opportunity to potentially reduce the number of personnel in the Criminal Investigation Second Team.

“Bang, bang, bang….”

The middle-aged man emptied the magazine.

Eight bullets from a replica 54, fired all at once.

It must be said, the middle-aged man’s marksmanship was indeed remarkable; continuous shooting could cause the bullet trajectory to shift due to the recoil.

But the middle-aged man seemed unfazed by the recoil.

All eight bullets passed through the small lock hole.

Just this skill in controlling the gun alone was enough to leave both the rebellious youth and Fatty flabbergasted.

What was even more astounding was that, with these eight shots, the middle-aged man had wounded two more people.

Although the rebellious youth and Fatty were reluctant to believe that such incredible events could happen,

but…

The two screams outside the door were unmistakably real.

The middle-aged man had indeed been hit by a stray bullet!

“Quick, help him!”

“Go with the riot shield!”

“Bastards!”

Outside the room, the scene was gruesome.

The non-mainstream youth and Fatty felt a dark thrill.

With a smug smile, the middle-aged man ejected the empty magazine, grabbed a new one, loaded it into the gun, and fired again.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

This time, the middle-aged man fired only three shots.

Then, a jubilant shout came from outside:

“The blast shield works, the stray bullets can’t penetrate.”

“Quick, help him!”

Hearing this, the non-mainstream youth and Fatty couldn’t smile anymore.

Although the middle-aged man had reduced the number of police officers by four, he had also enabled them to find a way to counter the stray bullets.

Their plan to block the police breach was ruined.

The middle-aged man wasn’t really surprised.

He had already thought of this when he heard the shout outside to use the riot shield.

That’s why the middle-aged man had only fired three shots.

Those three shots were meant to test the waters.

As soon as he realized that the stray bullets were ineffective, the middle-aged man stopped shooting.

They didn’t have that many bullets to waste.

There was no need to waste any more bullets.

The non-mainstream youth glanced at the middle-aged man, saw him combining bullets from two half-empty magazines into one, and spoke to Fatty:

“Fatty, give him two of your magazines.”

Upon hearing this, Fatty looked at the middle-aged man.

Reluctantly agreeing to hand over two magazines, Fatty thought about the middle-aged man’s marksmanship and compromised, mumbling as he fished two magazines from his pocket and tossed them to the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man caught the magazines and pocketed them.

He said to Fatty, “Thanks, Fatty bro!”

“No need!”

“Just shoot a few more for me later!”

Fatty waved his hand and replied.

Fatty admitted that his casual marksmanship was truly inferior to the middle-aged man’s accuracy.

“No problem!”

The middle-aged man responded.

Listening to the sounds outside, the second criminal investigation team organized another assault, ready to use the riot shield as cover and to burst through the security door with the breaching hammer.

Hearing that the second team had started to act, the non-mainstream youth stood up and closed the solid wood door.

“Get ready!”

“The security door and the solid wood door won’t hold for long.”

The non-mainstream youth said solemnly.

“Damn it, this is too much!”

“Let’s fight them!”

Fatty shouted angrily.

“This place is too open!”

The non-mainstream youth didn’t pay attention to Fatty, but stood up and looked around, saying helplessly.

“We can crossfire, set up a crossfire net.”

The middle-aged man suggested.

Upon hearing this, the non-mainstream youth’s eyes lit up, and he looked at the middle-aged man: “Tell me more!”

A crossfire net sounded professional.

He and Fatty, both amateurs, didn’t really understand tactics and had always relied on random firing.

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