Chapter 5 Demon Hunter

When the gunfire in the bathroom finally died down, all the gunmen who had rushed in were lying on the ground.

Klein tossed Ron to the floor and didn't forget to thank him before leaving.

"Thanks for the gun, though your aim seems a bit off to the left."

Blood kept flowing from Ron's neck. He pressed hard against his throat with his hand, trying to say something, but could only make wheezing sounds. A few seconds later, his face pale, he took his last breath.

"How rude. I warned you, and you couldn't even say thanks." Klein curled his lip and walked out of the bathroom.

Just as he reached the corner of the stairwell, two bullets came flying.

The bullets hit the corner where he'd just appeared, blasting two holes in it. Debris fell beside Klein's shoes.

"They really went all out on me, sending this many people."

Klein laughed mockingly at himself. Looking at the reflection in the glass across from him, he drew his pistol and aimed at the hallway behind him. Without even looking, he fired directly.

With two screams, the gunfire in the hallway stopped.

Two minutes later, Harry was hiding behind an electrical box, his face pale. He gripped an MP5A5, but the heavy weapon gave him no sense of security — instead, it made his hands tremble.

Just two minutes ago, he'd witnessed a butcher at work. His teammates had barely poked their heads out in the stairwell when he saw two heads explode like watermelons.

What followed was a one-sided slaughter. That butcher moved like he was dancing with death — bullets couldn't hit him at all, yet each time he raised his hand, a bullet would blow open a teammate's head.

Running was shameful, but life seemed more important.

"I shouldn't run into that guy again, right?"

Harry carefully poked his head out from behind the electrical box, only to see a dark gun barrel. He was so close to the muzzle he could even feel the heat radiating from it.

"Hello there, lost little deer."

Klein's face wore a smile as he waved at Harry.

Harry's face instantly went pale. A chill ran down his spine. He stopped breathing and closed his eyes in despair.

A gunshot rang in his ears, but Harry felt no pain. He even unconsciously touched his head — he didn't feel like his skull had been blown off.

Opening his eyes, he saw a powerfully built man fighting with that ghost-like butcher.

At their feet lay a bent handgun.

Klein had intended to casually finish off this straggler, but suddenly felt a chill from deep in his soul.

Years on the battlefield had taught him that a very dangerous opponent had appeared behind him. Without thinking, he turned and fired.

Chris simply tilted his head to dodge the fatal bullet, then grabbed Klein's pistol with one hand and twisted hard.

The barrel was visibly deformed. Klein knew he'd met a tough opponent. Without any hesitation, he let go of the gun and kicked hard at Chris.

Klein swore he'd used all his strength, but this guy only stepped back a few paces.

"Black Reaper, you finally showed up!" Chris's face wore a smile, his words sounding like an old friend greeting someone he hadn't seen in a while. But his eyes were as cruel as a hawk eyeing its prey.

"Demon Hunter? Really didn't expect to run into you here."

Klein's tone was casual, but he was very alert inside. This guy, codenamed Demon Hunter, was like he was made specifically to counter him. The two had clashed on battlefields at least ten times.

"This time I'll tear apart your bones, then cut off your head and pose for a nice close-up with it."

Chris loosened his shoulders, his bones crackling like popping beans.

Klein felt a bit of a headache coming on. He held up his hand in front of Chris. "Chris, let's talk about this."

Chris tilted his head at Klein, curious what this guy would say before dying.

"You take out your employer, and I can announce in the papers that you beat me fair and square. That way, you get fame and fortune, and I achieve my goal. We both win — what do you say?"

Klein sounded very sincere, at least from his perspective.

Chris's face darkened. "Looks like I got my priorities wrong. I should rip out your tongue first, then crush your bones."

"I guess there's no deal, then." Klein shrugged, his tone playful. The next second, he suddenly pulled out a small spray canister and sprayed it at Chris's face. The pungent smell and spray made Chris cry out.

Harry, hiding in the corner, watched carefully. It was pepper spray. Why would a mercenary assassin be carrying pepper spray?

Actually, the bathroom where Klein had set up his sniper rifle earlier was the women's restroom. The pepper spray had been sitting on the sink — probably some flight attendant had forgotten it.

While Chris's eyes were blinded, Klein charged forward, his right hand's knife slashing viciously at Chris's neck.

But before the blade could touch his skin, a thick hand blocked it.

Chris stared at Klein with red eyes and a fierce look. "Is this all the tricks you've got?"

Before Chris finished speaking, his other thick fist slammed hard into Klein's chest. Klein felt like he'd been hit by a truck as his body flew backward.

Klein landed by the stairs. He dusted himself off, gave Chris the middle finger, then ran up the stairs.

"Don't think you can run." Chris chased after him up the stairs.

After both figures completely disappeared, Harry crouched in the corner, feeling like it was all a dream.

"I... survived?"

In the ventilation duct, Klein crawled with difficulty. His movements were very gentle, making sure he didn't make any sound.

Just now, he'd successfully shaken off Chris and hidden in the ventilation duct.

"After all these years, this idiot is still the same — all brawn, no brains."

Klein thought. Through the vent grating, he spotted a familiar figure below.

It was a woman in a flight attendant uniform, huddled in a bathroom corner, trembling all over.

"Damn it, why is there no signal at all?"

"I think the signal's probably been jammed."

A voice came from overhead, startling the flight attendant below.

She instinctively looked up as a figure jumped down from the ventilation duct, reeking of smoke and gunpowder.

"Ah..."

Just as the flight attendant was about to scream, Klein covered her mouth.

"Shh, don't scream. I'm a very bad man. If you scream again, I'll push you out to catch bullets."

Klein threatened the flight attendant, putting on a fierce expression.

The flight attendant, eyes red, nodded. She recognized him — this was the janitor who'd been checking out her ass in the hallway.

Klein nodded with satisfaction. Just as he was about to release the flight attendant's mouth, the next second, a knife plunged into his abdomen.

Klein looked up in surprise. The flight attendant's face no longer showed any fear — only coldness and mockery.