Achieving Demon Godhood from Unlocking Talents

However.

Within the smoke, many gazes quietly converged, turning to look toward the two figures receiving cover fire.

Every one of them wore a look of admiration, and even a hint of hope.

...

RATATATATATA!!

Inside the factory, a machine gun spat fire as gleaming yellow shell casings ejected one after another, clattering to the ground.

A brutish, muscular man wearing only a black tank top stood on a steel platform several meters high near the main entrance wall, steadying the machine gun and continuously pulling the trigger.

The high-density volley made the gun’s barrel scorching hot. Wisps of white smoke drifted up from the muzzle, only to be swallowed by the flying muzzle flash and disappear without a trace.

On the other side,

a short-haired young man in a brown jacket was half-crouched on another steel platform, setting up a heavy black sniper rifle. He aimed through several purpose-made firing holes in the wall, targeting the dark figures in the smoke and firing repeatedly.

He even occasionally rushed to the window on the right wall to pick off any Patrol Department officers who tried to get close, disrupting their advance.

BOOM! BOOM!!

Each shot was like a giant hammer striking the ground, making hearts leap and breathing hitch.

Catching this out of the corner of his eye, the middle-aged man with a full beard by the left window grinned, stuck his arm out with a submachine gun, and sprayed a hail of bullets below.

The faint, crisp PING PING PING of ricochets echoed, mixed with several pained cries.

A look of savage glee appeared on his face as he took out two grenades and tossed them down below.

BOOM! BOOM!!

The explosions were deafening, causing the factory walls to tremble slightly.

Huddled in a corner, the three hostages were pale-faced, cowering on the floor in terror with their hands and feet bound by hemp rope.

Meanwhile, a middle-aged man with messy hair trembled as he walked toward the back of the steel platform. He wore a white lab coat, looked like a doctor, and held what appeared to be a prepared injectable serum.

"Doctor Feng, your speed at preparing these serums seems to be getting slower and slower."

At the back of the second-level platform, a middle-aged man in a trench coat sitting on a small wooden crate spoke in a low voice, slightly raising his eyes to look at the doctor.

Beneath his buzz cut, his forehead was exceptionally broad, and his wolf-like features gave off a sinister and vicious air.

The middle-aged doctor’s body trembled upon hearing this. His face paled as he hurriedly explained, "Mr. Qiu... M-Mr. Qiu, the... the conditions here are terrible. None of my pharmaceutical equipment is here. It’s having a huge impact."

"Is that so..."

Qiu Shan shot him a cold glance. His build was exceptionally burly, like a humanoid bear. Even sitting down, he was over 1.45 meters tall, almost at eye level with the standing man.

"I hope you’re smart enough to know your place—what to do and what not to do."

Having made his point, he watched the doctor nod repeatedly.

Only then did he take the injection and jab it into his own neck.

Instantly, as if replenished with some kind of energy, several fluorescent patterns flickered on his neck and the back of his hand.

But this phenomenon lasted less than a few seconds before the fluorescence rapidly dimmed, extinguishing and disappearing as if from an insufficient charge.

"Boss, there are more and more of those Patrol Department dogs. Are we really going to fight it out with them here?"

Suddenly, a voice spoke up. It was the bearded man with the submachine gun by the left window.

Hearing this, the other two accomplices chimed in with the same question.

"The Rebels will extract us."

"Ten minutes at most. Their people will be here."

The low voice spoke again. Qiu Shan crushed the empty syringe in his hand and shot the Pharmacist a threatening look, ordering him to go prepare a new healing serum.

"Boss, can the Rebels really be trusted?"

The short-haired young man with the sniper rifle asked in a serious tone. Qiu Shan didn’t get angry at the question; instead, he gave a cold smile.

"Of course."

His gaze went past the three hostages to a burlap sack lying in a corner to the side.

Muffled whimpers and the sounds of struggling came from inside it from time to time. There was actually a fourth person who had been kidnapped.

"Don’t forget..."

"We’re holding a trump card."