Chapter 2568

A crowd of over a hundred stood behind him, anxiety and confusion etched on every face.

Across the warehouse, Mario had long since lost all trust in Giles. He was already on edge, tense and ready for betrayal. So when a shot rang out, panic and fury surged through him. In a flash, he swung his rifle up and unleashed a wild barrage of bullets at Giles.

Giles' men surged forward, shields of flesh and will, hustling him backward. With that single blast, chaos erupted-a brutal firefight ignited, echoing through the abandoned factory.

Retreating, Giles shouted over the gunfire, "Mario, listen to me! Someone wants us to tear each other apart. Don't fall for it!"

But Mario was blinded by rage and ambition. This was his chance to wipe Giles out and claim everything for himself. Any hope of reason was lost-he drove his men forward, attacking with even greater ferocity.

No cover, no safety-the warehouse offered nothing but open ground. Bullets ricocheted as both sides fought and fell back, step by desperate step.

A cold dread settled in Giles' chest. He didn't want to get mired in a pointless battle with Mario; all he wanted was to escape this death trap. But every attempt to break out was met with silent, ruthless gunfire from mysterious assailants. Giles' crew was forced back inside, dodging bullets and scrambling for shelter, waiting for a chance to strike back.

Mario stoked his men's fury, shouting that this was their chance to avenge Jay. Like madmen, they charged, determined to wipe out Giles' crew once and for all.

But Giles hadn't survived this long in the Citadel by being reckless. He quickly realized there were more players in the factory than just Mario's gang. Instead of throwing his men into a pointless brawl, he started using Mario's people as a shield, subtly shifting the balance of power.

*

pressed the assault, determined to finish

A squadron of fighter jets thundered in, circling the factory

sly, triumphant grin crept across

of locusts, tearing the ground to shreds, filling the


before they could even run. Panic-stricken,

jets kept

landing in tight formation mediately sweeping

around the factory-miles of overgrown grass and

across the plain. Gab stood upright through the sunroof, eyes locked on the

wheel, Bruce took a call, listened, then

to

shrewd, cunning,

guessed that today's meeting would

Beahead of time, arranging

to come in guns

than that, he wanted to send

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