Chapter 24: Armor, Skeleton
Outside a factory producing a certain chemical raw material.
Three black seven-seater commercial vehicles avoided the cameras and parked in a corner outside the Chemical Plant.
The doors opened, and burly men, wearing bulletproof vests and full-face helmets, and carrying AK-47 rifles, silently disembarked from the commercial vehicles.
"Team A in position!"
Over a dozen fully armed gunmen hid in the shadows of the factory corner. After reporting, they fell silent, awaiting orders through their earpieces.
Inside the Chemical Plant, machines roared, and the sound of men drinking and playing Hanafuda cards occasionally drifted from the courtyard.
A dark cloud drifted over, obscuring the moon.
After half an hour of silent waiting, a cold voice came through the earpieces:
"Act!"
Over a dozen fully armed former special forces soldiers simultaneously pulled off their night vision goggles.
Working in pairs, one stepping on the other's hands, they lifted and pushed, quickly sending men over the wall.
A dozen killing machines from the Federal Army against a group of gang thugs.
Soon, loose gang thugs had their mouths covered by large hands reaching out from the darkness and their throats slit.
The hissing sound of blood spurting from necks and the muffled pops of silenced pistols were all concealed by the wind in the night.
...
Hell's Kitchen, a Japanese-style Kabukicho, was the busiest bar and club in the two blocks.
Geisha from Japan were quite to the taste of some middle-class customers.
Especially the Japanese women's self-proclaimed Yamato Nadeshiko-like service attitude and exquisite skills attracted a continuous stream of visitors.
This also made this Kabukicho one of the Foot Clan's important venues.
For a venue like this, which raked in vast sums daily, the Foot Clan naturally arranged people to watch over it.
In the Security Room of the Dance Hall, Mitsui Genichi was playing Hanafuda cards with a few subordinates. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. Mitsui, who was having bad luck, quickly stood up, threw the Hanafuda cards on the table, and hurried out. Over a dozen black thugs who were watching the venue outside were standing in the middle of the dance floor, glaring at several white men in black suits opposite.
Two large black men stood behind, covering their wrists. Their eyes were filled with murderous intent, clearly having suffered losses.
Mitsui Genichi spoke in a low voice to the frightened guests around him: "I apologize, tonight's consumption for everyone will be half price. Please don't panic; we will handle this immediately and ensure no one is harmed."
After speaking, he silently advanced towards the two men in black suits at the front, saying coldly, "This is the Foot Clan's territory. You have ten seconds to disappear, otherwise, you will be responsible for all consequences."
"Tsk tsk tsk tsk, how impolite... We just came for some fun; you Japanese are really unfriendly..."
A brown-haired man in a suit with a buzz cut complained:
"Foot Clan, are you threatening me, shorty? This is New York, not Tokyo!"
Mitsui Genichi slowly approached him, a trace of bloody killing intent flashing in his eyes. He subconsciously reached for his belt and said in a sinister whisper, "If you don't get out, I'll kill you right now... damn American."
The suit man's face changed slightly. He glanced at Mitsui Genichi and the bulging waistlines of the thugs behind him, licked his lips, and spread his hands, saying:
"We just came to have some fun. Since you don't welcome us, we'll go to another venue. Let's go, guys."
He immediately left with his companions.
Mitsui Genichi made a gesture, and the deafening music quickly resumed. He strode after them with the black thugs behind him.
The troublemakers seemed to hear the footsteps chasing them and cautiously ran quickly towards the dark street ahead.
Mitsui and his men strode after them. Mitsui whispered sinisterly, "American, stop. The scenery here is very nice. Don't worry, I'll only break your two legs..."
Suddenly, the area ahead became brightly lit. The headlights of four cars turned on simultaneously, and countless figures were vaguely hidden behind the cars, the sound of safeties being pulled echoing from their hands.
"It's an ambush!"
Before the look of terror on Mitsui Genichi's face could fade, over a dozen AK rifles opposite them opened fire simultaneously.
...
"Ding-a-ling"
"Ding-a-ling"
"Ding-a-ling"
The phone kept ringing, but Shredder was no longer in the mood to answer.
He knew it must be another venue under attack. He had received seven or eight calls that night, all requests for help.
"Matsushita Ichiro, who exactly did The Hand provoke?"
Shredder's forehead veins bulged with irritation. He roughly loosened his tie and glared fiercely at the middle-aged man sitting on the sofa beside him.
"Shredder, watch your tone. Without The Hand's support, it's questionable whether your Foot Clan could even exist!"
The middle-aged man named Matsushita Ichiro made no attempt to hide the arrogance in his voice.
"Don't forget, when your master fled to New York in disgrace, it was The Hand who supported you! That's how you have your current enterprise."
A cold glint flashed in Shredder's eyes. He walked to the coat rack and took off his jacket.
"I naturally won't forget The Hand's help, Matsushita-kun. Now I need to know who is targeting us..."
Taking off his suit, revealing a white shirt, Shredder walked to the sword rack and grasped a katana.
"Is it Tang from The East, or Kingpin? What exactly has The Hand done? Madame Gao is dead, why aren't the other fingers of The Hand here?"
Matsushita Ichiro's face darkened. Shredder's words were like tearing open The Hand's scars. He reprimanded him unceremoniously, "Shredder, that's not your concern!"
"Is that so!" Shredder held the scabbard in his left hand and slowly drew the sword with his right.
*Ching!*
The sound of a long blade being drawn echoed in the room.
Shredder held the blade under his arm and wiped the bloodstained surface.
"BOSS!"
Just then, a burly white man in his thirties rushed in, pushing the door open. Seeing Shredder holding a katana, his heart skipped a beat. His gaze swept over Matsushita Ichiro lying dead on the carpet, and his heart leaped into his throat.
"Several of our venues are gone. Kabukicho and that Laboratory were also attacked!"
Shredder's eyes were extremely gloomy, filled with unwillingness. Finally, he gritted his teeth and made up his mind.
"Notify our people to withdraw from New York!"
"BOSS!" The burly white man was shocked, but when he met Shredder's cold gaze, he was immediately too scared to say a word.
"Bring the doctor, not too many people! Also, find someone to spread the location of The Hand's gunmen."
Shredder felt his heart bleeding. The Foot Clan was the enterprise he had built over a dozen years.
He was reluctant to give it up, but he knew The Hand's strength, and the forces capable of confronting The Hand were not something a small gang of that size could afford to provoke.
However, since he was having a hard time, he wouldn't let others have it easy either. Thinking of the enemies The Hand had brought upon him, Shredder directly sold out the gunmen The Hand had smuggled into New York.
When the snipe and the clam fight, the fisherman benefits. Although Shredder was unwilling, he knew that only by preserving himself would he have a chance in the future. Only when the two sides fought fiercely would he have a chance to return to New York.
"Bang bang!..."
"Da da da..."
Just as Shredder opened a Secret Room to pack valuables and some research materials.
A burst of intense gunfire, like firecrackers, suddenly came from outside the door.
Shredder's face changed drastically. He threw down the box of gold bars in his hand and quickly walked to a corner of the Secret Room.
On the humanoid wooden stand there, a set of all-metal samurai armor was placed, its bright silver color shining brilliantly under the Secret Room's light.
...
At this time, outside the Foot Clan's Manor Stronghold, Frank was holding a PKM general-purpose machine gun and firing wildly at the Foot Clan's Stronghold.
This heavy machine gun, produced in the former Soviet Union, used 7.62mm bullets, had a magazine capacity of 100 rounds, weighed over ten kilograms, and was originally intended for use with a tripod.
Frank held it directly in his hands. The powerful recoil seemed to have no effect on him. The fire snake sprayed by the machine gun illuminated the night sky for a moment.
Behind him, over a dozen large men were all holding heavy weapons such as pump-action shotguns and machine guns, providing fire suppression against the gunmen in the Manor.
As the Foot Clan's last Stronghold, this Manor had at least fifty gunmen distributed within it. However, compared to the heavy weapons in Frank's hands.
The firearms of these gunmen were at most handguns and submachine guns.
Facing weapons like heavy machine guns, the Foot Clan gunmen inside the Manor were so suppressed they didn't even dare to show their heads.
"Trouble!"
Frank looked at the sky and then down at his special watch. There were only two hours left until dawn.
A trace of impatience flashed across Frank's face. He casually threw the heavy machine gun in his hand to a subordinate beside him. Turning around, he took an M202 66mm quad rocket launcher from the back seat of the commercial vehicle behind him, aimed it directly at the Manor in front of him, and pulled the trigger.
Boom boom boom boom!
Four rockets fired simultaneously. In the roar of violent explosions, fire soared into the sky.
When the smoke and dust cleared, the Manor's gate and half of a wall in front of it had disappeared.
Frank threw down the rocket launcher, picked up an M16 assault rifle, and gave his team a tactical maneuver signal.
In the smoke and dust, several Foot Clan gunmen huddled in a corner of the Manor, clutching their pathetic little handguns, nervously watching the damaged gate.
"Da da da da..."
Several gunshots rang out behind them. Three gunmen wearing bulletproof vests and bulletproof helmets had somehow slipped in from an undestroyed wall.
The three stood in a line, one behind the other, bent over in a tactical maneuver.
Three AK rifles alternately pointed in three directions. Seeing the enemy, they quickly pulled the triggers.
Several Foot Clan gunmen were shot into sieves before they could react.
The sound of gunfire immediately attracted the gunmen ambushed throughout the Manor. They leaned out from all directions and fired at the three gunmen who had slipped in.
The three gunmen quickly changed positions, using the Manor's pillars as cover. Their three AK rifles began to spray fire at the exposed Firing Points within the Manor, suppressing their firepower.
"Da da da da da..."
The three gunmen attracted some of the firepower within the Manor. At this moment, at the location of the Manor gate, a black commercial vehicle suddenly accelerated and charged in with the pedal to the metal.
The two doors of the commercial vehicle were wide open, with a burly man squatting in each, holding a squad machine gun.
Simple steel plates were embedded in the fuel tank and important front and rear positions of the black commercial vehicle.
The driver floored the accelerator, crashing around inside the Manor. A regular seven-seater commercial vehicle was driven like a battle vehicle in his hands.
From both ends of the battle vehicle, two fire snakes sprayed out simultaneously.
Da da da da da da. The heavy machine gun's spray fire. Ordinary stone pillars, corridors, and walls were not much thicker than paper under the 7.62 heavy machine gun fire.
When it swept over the Foot Clan gunmen, it tore them apart, leaving them like bloody sacks of flesh.
And the Foot Clan's small handguns couldn't penetrate the bulletproof vests of these former professional soldiers at all.
In the Federation, the control of bulletproof vests was much stricter than that of firearms.
Among these Foot Clan gunmen, it was considered good if one in ten wore a bulletproof vest.
In contrast, the gunmen Frank brought were completely covered from head to toe.
The Level IIIA bulletproof vests purchased in bulk and smuggled from The East cost no more than 400 US dollars.
Even without inserting bulletproof steel plates, this type of bulletproof vest could not be penetrated by the Foot Clan's small handguns.
"Da da da!"
Frank pulled the trigger of his M16, killing a Foot Clan thug hiding in a corner trying to ambush him.
He strode into the largest building in the Manor, followed by over a dozen fully armed gunmen carrying AK rifles.
Sniper rifles and machine guns were set up at various vantage points and key locations in the Manor.
The moment Frank walked into the Manor Hall, a figure leaped down from the second floor of the Manor. A dazzling silver light slashed directly at Frank's face.
The blade light was fast, reaching Frank's head in an instant. Frank grinned, biting the cigar he had just put in his mouth into pieces.
Facing this fierce slash, Frank grabbed the barrel of the M16 and directly wielded gun as club, smashing it hard against the incoming katana.
*Ching!*
The wooden stock of the M16 was directly split in two by the sharp katana.
However, this block gave Frank a chance to breathe. He immediately stepped back, drew the military handgun from his waist, aimed it at the Silver-Armored Warrior in front of him, and pulled the trigger.
"Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang..."
All nine bullets hit, sparking off the silver armor.
At this moment, the gunmen guarding Frank also aimed their guns at the Silver-Armored Warrior.
"Da da da da da"
"Da da da da"
"Da da da"
The 7.62mm bullets mercilessly engulfed the Silver-Armored Warrior who had suddenly jumped down.
But these bullets, which could easily penetrate bulletproof vests, seemed to have no effect on the Silver-Armored Warrior.
The Silver-Armored Warrior directly swung his katana and charged into the crowd.
"Da da da da..."
Two gunmen directly facing him, facing the charging enemy, did not dodge or evade, but pulled the trigger directly at him.
*Ching!*
The Silver-Armored Warrior endured the bullets to get close. After two slashes, the two gunmen fell to the ground, incapacitated.
"Spread out!"
Seeing this, Frank gave orders to the gunmen beside him, telling them to scatter, while he himself pulled out a pump-action shotgun from behind him.
Instead of retreating, he advanced, charging towards the Silver-Armored Warrior.
"Bang bang bang bang"
With every step, a hot shotgun shell casing rolled onto the ground.
With every shot, Frank blasted the Silver-Armored Warrior in the heart area of his left chest.
The shotgun bullets still seemed to cause no damage to the Silver-Armored Warrior, but the immense impact force from the bullets sent him staggering backward repeatedly.
"Firearms are useless against me. My armor is mixed with Adamantium,"
The Silver-Armored Warrior swung his katana, looked at Frank, and a muffled voice came from beneath the silver faceplate.
"Since you destroyed the Foot Clan, you will all die here today!"
Firearms were useless. Frank fired his last shotgun shell and pulled out the ballistic knife from his waist.
He charged forward directly to engage the Silver-Armored Warrior in close combat.
An inch shorter, an inch more dangerous. The ballistic knife in Frank's hand was not much longer than a utility knife.
Compared to the Silver-Armored Warrior's katana, it was at a significant disadvantage, and the opponent was an impenetrable iron turtle.
After repeatedly stabbing the Silver-Armored Warrior's faceplate and armpit with no effect.
He rolled on the ground, and the blade of the ballistic knife in his hand flew out directly, shooting towards the Silver-Armored Warrior's groin.
*Ding!* The blade was directly deflected, still having no effect.
"Mutant!?"
The Silver-Armored Warrior looked at the golden-yellow light emanating from Frank's body, somewhat surprised.
In the brief moment just now, he had clearly slashed this person four or five times, but they were all blocked by the sudden yellow light emanating from his body.
In Frank's chest pocket, two yellow talismans turned into flying ash and dissipated at this moment.
Frank got up somewhat awkwardly, looked at the silver-armored man in front of him, and casually pulled out a white jade bead from his pocket.
He bit his tongue-tip blood and sprayed it onto the bead in his palm.
After coming into contact with the fresh blood, the white jade bead absorbed Frank's sprayed tongue-tip blood completely, like a sponge.
After absorbing Frank's blood, the bead spun around and reappeared in front of the Silver-Armored Warrior.
The white jade bead spun, and a black cloud rose around it. Within the black cloud, there was a crackling sound.
"What is this!"
The Silver-Armored Warrior didn't think twice and slashed directly at it.
*Clang!* The Silver-Armored Warrior felt his wrist shake. His slash felt as if it had struck steel.
The black cloud faded, and a skeleton demon, two meters tall with green phosphorescent fire burning in its eye sockets, suddenly appeared before the Silver-Armored Warrior.
His slash had landed squarely on the skull of this skeleton monster.
Looking at this skeleton monster, Shredder, wearing his samurai armor, was scared out of his wits. A chill ran from his tailbone straight up to his heavenly spirit.
Before he could react, the skeleton monster's dark, empty jaw suddenly opened, and a stream of smoke as black as ink, mixed with eerie green phosphorescent fire, sprayed towards his face.
(End of Chapter)