End of the Sky (Multiverse's End)

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three 5.56mm bullets hit the reinforced body armor on the killer's chest. The M4A1's muzzle velocity plus kinetic energy failed to break through the armor. After hitting the same location, two bullets bounced off and one embedded in it.

Boom! Boom!

Another two bullets hit the same place, this time it was an arm. The armor here is relatively weak. It can be seen that in the design of the body armor, the protection of the body is not as important as the protection of the internal organs.

It is understandable that considering factors such as flexibility, bloated armor is not suitable for special tactics teams to perform tasks.

"Don't be afraid, the last position, I will let you go after the test."

Seeing that the killer's spirit was about to collapse, Russell quickly comforted him.

The effect was very mediocre. Seeing the muzzle of the pressed gun pointing between his legs, the killer gave up on himself and roared, got up and ran towards the hotel gate.

Whoosh!

The tactical dagger struck from behind, pierced the bulletproof helmet on the back of the killer's head, rushed out with the corpse, smashed the glass of the hotel's revolving door, and rolled over the steps of the gate.

Outside the door, two doormen shivered in unison, they stepped forward together to drag the corpse away, and then cleaned the steps with a dust pusher.

Before the cleaning work was finished, killers lurking around rushed in.

They have been waiting for a long time and have been refused entry. Now all those in the way are dead, and no one can bother them to earn 300 million dollars.

One after another, within three minutes, about forty people walked into the New York Continental Hotel.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Bang————

Fifteen seconds after the gunfire, the two doormen looked at the dark hotel lobby, swallowed and hurriedly moved their heads away.

Slap!

One doorman threw the pistol in his back into the sewer, and the other followed suit. They were just doormen and didn't know anything about the killer.

Gunshots were fired upwards from the hotel lobby, and because the elevator was blocked, the speed of death's scythe was not fast.

Second floor, third floor, fourth floor...

The gunshots moved up one level every thirty seconds, not more than one second, not less than one second, and the traceable frequency made people extremely desperate.

...

"Dead, unexpectedly... are all dead?"

Holding the red wine glass, the adjudicator looked dumbfounded as if struck by lightning, and murmured in disbelief: "This is impossible, they are killers trained by the High Table since childhood, with excellent equipment and first-class tactical skills, even the best special forces can fight against them. I can't last more than two minutes..."

"Mr. Judge, it appears that you have failed to prove my incompetence."

Winston said taunting words, but his face was extremely solemn.

He has been known for a long time for the horror of the elite troops of the High Table. Every killer in it, or every fighter, has been cruelly screened, and the elimination rate is as high as 95%.

In other words, only one person can be left for every twenty people. Behind the forty fighters in the lobby are the super elite left behind by eight hundred people after brutal competition.

Coupled with the most advanced tactical equipment of the high table, fighting in a team, the combat effectiveness is beyond doubt.

Then the question arises, what kind of enemy did they encounter that made these first-rate elites scream like pigs in fright?

It really is a monster!

Winston thought to himself, got up and walked out of the office. Even the best troops at the High Table could not stop Russell's progress, so he would not stay and pretend to be aggressive.

I can't pretend!

"Mr. Winston, where are you going? Take me with you, I'm leaving here."

The adjudicator stepped forward quickly, ignoring Winston's disgusted eyes, and followed him with a deadpan face.

"Mr. Idiot, the same sentence, you should thank me for my loyalty to the high table, otherwise I won't care about your life."

"Understood, your loyalty is beyond doubt, and I will pass it on to the twelve chiefs."

The adjudicator took out a handkerchief, wiped off the sweat that kept falling, and added: "There are also previous incidents, which have nothing to do with your personal ability. You are very good, but that monster is too scary."

While the two were talking, they came to an independent elevator. The receptionist in the lobby was also Winston's most trusted deputy, Caron, holding an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle, nodded to Winston, and swiped his card to open the elevator.

A helicopter was parked on the top floor, and it could retreat directly after Winston arrived.

"As the manager of the New York Continental Hotel, I never thought about today's scene, it's too ridiculous. Fortunately, you are here, otherwise, no matter how I explain it, the High Table Conference will not believe me."

Winston said with emotion, if he hadn't experienced it personally, he would never have dreamed that the Continental Hotel in New York would be shot down by one person.

"Mr. Winston, please stop talking. Evacuate to a safe area first. I'll listen to whatever you want to say." The adjudicator urged.

"Mr. Idiot, stay classy and remember you represent the High Table."

Winston sneered as usual, and then said: "Don't panic, there are no stairs on the thirteenth floor. It's not so easy to get to the fourteenth floor after locking the elevator. The monster can't catch up with us."

"Very sensible design, I love God!"

A smile appeared on the adjudicator's stiff face, embarrassed yet polite.

The two entered the elevator, but there was no movement after a long while. Kalong beside him was sweating profusely, and there was no response when he swiped his card several times.

"Why, what's the matter?"

"Caron, what's going on?"

Caron tried again to no avail, shook his head and said, "Sir, the elevator seems to be malfunctioning."

"Coincidence?"

"I don't think it's a coincidence, sir."

...

On the twelfth floor, Russell changed the magazine and looked for the stairs among the corpses.

Sensing that someone wanted to leave the game map, an electric arc flashed in his eyes, he invaded the security system of the Continental Hotel, completely took over a series of power facilities, and stopped the elevator that was about to start.

Crackling!

Russell walked to the elevator, electric sparks jumped between his five fingers, the elevator door opened, and he took the elevator to the fourteenth floor.

The elevator can go directly to the floor where the general manager's office is located, but he didn't do so. There are still 39 killers waiting between the 14th and 18th floors.

Extras are not easy, we have to give them a chance to show their faces.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Bang————

The gunshots rang out again, moving upwards at a speed of 30 seconds per floor. The remaining killers in the Continental Hotel couldn't bear the pressure, their mentality collapsed, and they ran towards the top floor in a swarm.

Thirty seconds for ten people on the first floor, and thirty seconds for two people on the first floor. The monster is simply climbing the stairs, and killing people is just a matter of convenience.

...

On the nineteenth floor, the huge bank vault safe took up half a floor. Winston, who had no way to escape, poured himself a glass of red wine and sat on the high-end sofa to savor it.

Cuarón, carrying an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle, stood beside him like a waiter.

"Mr. Winston, do you have no other means of escape than the helicopter?"

The adjudicator was unwilling to sit still. He did not believe that the safe of the vault could save his life. The reason is simple. In the United States, there are often cases where the vaults are looted.

For example, some time ago, there was a strange case. The door of the vault was intact, but the cash inside disappeared. The bank and the police have no clue.

"Mr. Judge, you can't escape, you can't fight, there is only one way to survive."

Winston sipped his red wine, glanced sideways at the adjudicator, and said without haste, "We can negotiate with him!"

"no!"

The adjudicator's face turned red, and he let out a deep cry: "I refuse, the high table will not yield to anyone."

"It's up to you. Anyway, you are the only representative of the High Table in this room. I'm just loyal to it. I traded my life for negotiating. The High Table can't blame me."

"No, your actions will bring disgrace to the High Table."

"Mr. Idiot, according to what you mean, are you planning to be loyal?"

"me……"

The adjudicator pursed his lips and didn't say anything for a long time. He sat beside him angrily, and hummed in a nasal voice: "I'll sit here and supervise your negotiation."

Boom!

There was a loud noise, which made the adjudicator tremble all over. He pretended to be calm and looked towards the door of the vault.

"gentlemen?"

Caron held the AR-15 semi-automatic rifle, and only waited for Winston's order, and then pulled the trigger to shoot at the moment the vault door opened.

"No, someone must have tried your trick, and those people are all dead."

Winston told Cuaron to put down his weapon, shook the wine glass slightly, and waited for Russell to appear.

He was as steady as an old dog but panicked a lot. If he couldn't escape, who the hell would stay here to negotiate!

Squeak! squeak———

The handle of the vault door was turned, and only Winston and Caron knew the password, and the vault door, which could only be opened with their palm prints, was slowly opened.

Russell stepped in while changing the magazine of the M4A1. In the background were several people lying down and sleeping.

The kind of sleep that you can't open your eyes when you close them!

He scanned the room, his gaze under the sunglasses passed over Cuaron and Winston, and finally landed on the adjudicator.

"Oh, it turns out that you caused me to be suspended and my medal for bravery was lost."

"Mr. Russell!"

The adjudicator stood up, stretched out his hand enthusiastically, and said with a forced smile, "I am the spokesperson of the High Table Conference. You must have heard of this name. We can talk..."

Boom!

With a gunshot, the adjudicator sat firmly on the sofa, but his neck was gone.

The bean curd splashed on his face, Winston trembled slightly with his hand holding the red wine glass, and Caron beside him didn't dare to take a breath.

The pace is terrible and there seems to be no possibility of negotiation.

"Hello, Mr. Russell... No, Police Officer Russell, I am the manager of the New York Continental Hotel. You can call me Winston. It is my honor."

Winston put down the red wine dipped in bean curd and got up to show his courtesy.

"Don't be so polite. After all, whether I kill you or not has nothing to do with whether you are polite."

"..."

"You are lucky, you have the value of living, so you will not die. Send a message to the 'Goblet' organization above you. If I don't become a policeman, I can only be a devil. If I become a devil , both Satan and God will have a headache."

Russell looked at both sides of the house. Pistols, rifles, submachine guns, etc. were all available, and there were bullets of various types in the glass cabinet.

He flicked his hand to take a picture of Franklin on the counter, and then, in front of Winston and the two of them, stuffed a large number of firearms and bullets of the corresponding model into his pockets, emptying half of them before stopping.

"Google!" x2

Winston and Caron's brows were sweating, looking at Russell's pockets that would never be filled, they were imagining for a while.

Superpowers, black technology, or magic?

"Who, remember to pass on the message, in the next period of time, I will prove how terrible it is to be a devil until I am reinstated."

After Russell finished speaking, he left the safe room straight away, and closed the vault door politely before leaving.

"Caron, what does he mean?" Winston heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the bean curd off his face.

"Sir, if you guess correctly, he will kill many people until the High Table surrenders."

"It's hard, the High Table doesn't give in, and they're never short of people."