The gunshot rang out. Raymond Brooks instinctively ducked his head, but he was immediately shocked to discover that a burst of blood had exploded from the head of the kidnapper who had been aiming the gun at him.

The kidnapper’s hand fell limply to the ground, followed by a booted foot stepping past Raymond Brooks’s line of sight.

In Raymond Brooks’s eyes, filled with extreme astonishment and delight, a figure dressed entirely in black, holding a rifle, flashed past him.

Chapter 2 The Value Within

His mind was a bit muddled. Following the shadow, Raymond Brooks saw several people on either side of the kidnapper’s house entrance, forming a standard indoor assault formation as they charged into the room he had just exited.

The first person through the door fell backward, but the second stepped over his comrade and rushed into the room, and then gunfire erupted rapidly and intensely.

The gunfire became a continuous barrage, accompanied by tense shouting, but there were no screams of pain—the fight was both swift and fierce.

Raymond Brooks had intended to stand up, but he heard the whooshing sound of bullets slicing through the air—something you only hear when bullets pass very close by. So Raymond Brooks did not get up, instead remaining perfectly still, lying on the ground.

The gunfire quickly ceased; the battle lasted only a dozen seconds before it was over. The attack had come suddenly, and ended just as quickly.

At this moment, someone holding a gun returned to the doorway, bent down, and removed the helmet from his fallen comrade.

The one who had been shot was definitely dead—the bullet had entered his forehead and exited the back of his head. The helmet was full of blood and brain matter, though the bullet hadn’t managed to penetrate the rear layer of the helmet.

Raymond Brooks saw everything clearly, heard everything clearly. He could even see the tiny bullet hole in the helmet, as he was less than five meters from the door.

The person who removed his comrade’s helmet cursed, then said weakly, “Guys, Buffalo is dead. We’re in trouble.”

At this point, someone inside the room shouted again, “This bastard doesn’t speak English, but the hostage must be here. Joey, Ernest, you two search quickly. Cap, what are you standing there for? Check for survivors, then stand guard!”

Hearing what was said inside, the person at the door immediately replied, “Captain, there’s a kung fu kid here who’s the hostage.”

The person at the door was probably Cap. He walked up to Raymond Brooks, gave him a light kick, and said, “Do you speak English?”

Raymond Brooks immediately nodded vigorously, looking up at him with a determined expression.

These people weren’t police. If they were Mexican police, they definitely wouldn’t be speaking English.

Raymond Brooks had considered pretending not to speak English, but he didn’t hesitate for long—almost instinctively, he chose to nod. Judging from their conversation, if he didn’t show any value, he might be killed on the spot.

“Captain, this guy speaks English.”

Cap shouted first, then squatted down, hooked a finger under the tape on Raymond Brooks’s mouth and ripped it off, then impatiently asked, “Do you know where the hostages are being held?”

“I speak English, and Spanish too. I don’t know where the hostages are, but I can help you ask.”

Raymond Brooks immediately began to demonstrate his value, making it clear he could provide the help they urgently needed.

Cap’s face was covered by a mask, so his expression couldn’t be seen, but Raymond Brooks could still hear the surprise in his voice: “Good, get up, come here.”

Raymond Brooks was pulled to his feet, but Cap didn’t untie the restraints on his hands.

Back in the room, the kidnapper boss’s bodyguard was lying on the ground, but there were more corpses in the adjacent room.

It looked like a lounge, with a TV, two long sofas, several chairs, and a fridge, but four bodies were strewn across the floor, blood everywhere.

The kidnapper boss was slumped on the sofa, looking miserable—one arm had a bullet wound, his nose was crooked, and his face was covered in blood.

Standing opposite the kidnapper boss was a masked man, who now looked at Raymond Brooks and said, “Who are you?”

“I’m Chinese, kidnapped and brought here as a hostage. I can act as a translator.”

He briefly explained his identity and abilities. The skull-faced man didn’t hesitate, immediately saying, “You can call me Captain. Cap, untie him.”

A knife slid along his wrist, and Raymond Brooks’s hands were finally free.

Captain pointed at the kidnapper boss and said, “Explain the situation simply. This guy is called Sanchez, and he kidnapped someone.”

After speaking, Captain immediately raised a phone, showing the screen to Raymond Brooks: “This is the person. Have you seen him?”

On the phone was a young man in his twenties, with typical Mexican features. Raymond Brooks glanced at it and immediately shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen this man.”

“Then do you know where the other hostages are being held?”

“Sorry, I was just brought here. I don’t know where the other hostages are.”

Captain said without hesitation, “Alright, then help me translate. First, ask him where the person in the photo is.”