Behind the truck, Sir Howard and David Carter exchanged silent glances, both looking at Steven Clark. The latter swallowed hard and shook his head directly.

“There are still some in the car’s trunk. Which one of you two is going?”

Sir Howard pointed at Steven Clark and David Carter, hoping someone would volunteer.

“……” x2

“I’ve still got some here.”

At the critical moment, Jack Linton stepped in to help, pulling an M4 magazine from behind his back and handing over David Carter’s .38 revolver, which still had four bullets left.

Why four and not six? Embarrassingly, he’d gotten a bit carried away and wanted to test his shooting skills.

The result wasn’t great—even a “body outline master” would have done better. Who knows where those bullets went.

“Ah Jie, you’re the man! I knew you were the most reliable.”

Sir Howard was overjoyed, took the magazine and reloaded. David Carter tried to grab the revolver, but Steven Clark bumped him aside with his hip.

“Officer Zhou, that’s my gun!”

“You say it’s yours, so it’s yours? Try calling it and see if it answers.”

Steven Clark, confident in his marksmanship, felt the gun was more threatening in his hands. If he couldn’t out-grab Sir Howard, surely he could out-grab David Carter?

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—

The intermittent gunfire started up again. This time, because both sides were so close, Steven Clark managed to take down two people with four bullets.

As for Sir Howard...

“Ah Jie, do you have any more magazines?”

“Nope.”

The four of them exchanged deep looks. In the dead silence, Jack Linton spoke up again.

“Try to hold on a bit longer. I called the police station earlier—backup should be here soon.”

“When did you call? How come I didn’t see it?” David Carter looked confused.

“You guys were sneaking into the parking lot. I waited ten minutes with no movement, so I made the call.”

Jack Linton looked innocent. It wasn’t that he was overly cautious, but after watching too many Hong Kong movies, he knew someone always screws up at the crucial moment.

Prevention has to come early.

“Brother Jack, you’re so handsome, I love you!”

Steven Clark’s eyes sparkled as he began a heartfelt confession—this time, it was true love.

“Shut up, you useless thing. You can’t even hit anyone with a rifle.”

“……”

Stunned, Steven Clark watched as Sir Howard snatched the .38 from his hand and shoved the M4 into his arms.

Time ticked by, second by second. Gradually, the gunfire from Da Fei’s side went from sporadic to silent. The dead of night made the air grow colder, and the pressure on both sides was immense.

“A bunch of bastards. Told them to keep an eye on Da Fei and report any movement…”

Sir Howard muttered, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. “They didn’t keep watch, and now they’re moving so slow. If I make it back alive, I’ll teach each of them a lesson with an iron palm.”

Amid the pounding of his heart, Steven Clark quickly sensed something was off—over on Da Fei’s side...

Maybe they were out of bullets.

They really were. Not only was Da Fei out, but the foreign buyers had emptied their magazines too.

Heaven is fair. Just as Steven Clark realized Da Fei’s side was out of ammo, Da Fei and his men noticed it too.

After some cautious probing, Da Fei’s group of four made the first move, striding out from behind the car.

Jack Linton’s group wasn’t intimidated either. The four of them stepped out from behind the truck. Too bad there was no slow-motion or BGM, and Steven Clark’s trio seriously dragged down the looks average—otherwise, it would’ve been even cooler.

Four on four. Two eyes, one nose each—whoever chickens out is a loser.

David Carter: “……”

Chapter 14: As Long As You’re Happy

On Da Fei’s side, both his underlings were down. Besides himself, only three foreigners remained.

One looked refined, holding a metal case. Judging by his gold-rimmed glasses, he was probably the accountant. The other two were tall and muscular, their tank tops barely containing their bulging muscles—definitely bodyguards or enforcers.

“It’s you. You’re not a student.”

Da Fei recognized Steven Clark, raised his gun, but it just clicked empty. In frustration, he hurled the pistol at him.

Bang!

“Ouch!”

David Carter was unlucky enough to get hit, a big bump swelling on his forehead.

“Ah Jie, you go first.”

Sir Howard waved his hand, letting the youngest, Jack Linton, pick first.

Back in his youth, even twenty men couldn’t get close to him—he’d made his name with his deadly scissor kicks. Now he was older, and had twisted his ankle in a car accident, but if it came to a fight, it didn’t matter which of the four he faced.

“Hmm, I’ll pick… him.”

Jack Linton pointed, finally choosing the accountant.

“Ah Jie, let your uncle handle this guy.”

David Carter raised his hand to stop him, face serious. “You’re still young, you don’t know how dangerous the underworld is. This foreigner looks shady—definitely a tough customer. You can’t handle him.”

“Uh, I’m fine. As long as you’re happy.”

Four on four: Jack Linton and Steven Clark each faced a muscle-bound foreigner, Sir Howard faced Da Fei, and the accountant was left to David Carter.

“Boy, come on!”

The white muscleman cracked his neck, took up a classic boxing stance, and looked at Jack Linton with utter disdain.

His thoughts: Pale and weak—easy win.

Jack Linton shrugged, didn’t bother with any stance, and walked straight toward the white brute.