Marvel Saiyans

Chapter 8: Sweeping the factory (seeking recommendation votes)

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"Hey, you guys are..."

Outside the repair shop gate, two gunmen with rifles looked at the van parked at the door with some caution.

“Bang! Bang!”

The gunshots with silencers were somewhat muffled. Two gunmen were shot in the head and fell to the ground without a sound. Alejandro held the pistol with both hands, tilted it slightly, and shot and killed three more gunmen in the sentry box. Putting the pistol back into the holster, he pulled out an M40A3 sniper rifle from the back seat. This is the military version of the Remington 700 shotgun, modified with a heavier stainless steel barrel.

He had to climb onto the roof of the repair shop, snipe the gunman in the blind spot and monitor the surrounding environment to detect the reinforcements of the Reyes Group as soon as possible.

Broly walked to the door of the repair shop with a rifle in his hand.

In the garage, a group of women were making drugs. Their working environment was extremely bad. The Reyes Group did not buy them any labor protection equipment. The hot air, toxic acid mist, choking smoke, and flickering high-pressure sodium lamps were all harming their health.

Because these women inhaled too many toxic chemicals, their skin became terribly rough and covered with spots, their limbs were thin, their bodies were shrunken, and they looked a little demented, like the walking dead.

They are prisoners of this factory, trafficked by Reyes from all over the country, working day and night in the factory. The oldest one has not seen the sun for three years, and some have not seen the sun for even longer, but were "cleaned out" by the management because of illness.

There are several gunmen supervising their work to prevent them from secretly taking the finished products. Because they have worked in the drug factory for a long time, almost all of them are addicted to drugs.

The remaining gunmen were in the three offices of the garage. Most of them wore floral shirts, and some were shirtless, revealing tattoos on their arms. The air-conditioning in the office was turned on very high. The gunmen drank iced whiskey and smoked cigars while playing cards. Rolls of US dollars were placed on the card table.

"boom!"

An unrivaled force tore the office door from its frame. The heavy door flew and hit a gunman, pinning him to the wall.

Broly walked in. The gunmen were startled and panicked when they saw someone suddenly break in.

One gunman tried to shoot with a pistol on the card table, but before he could pull the trigger, he was hit in the chest. There was a crackling sound of ribs breaking, and a large part of his chest was dented, and his internal organs were smashed into a pulp.

He stepped forward, punching each of them one by one, killing more than a dozen gunmen in two seconds.

Some of the quick-reacting gunmen finally pulled out their pistols and rifles and started shooting. Broly picked up his rifle and shot back at them.

A burst of gunfire like popping beans was heard in the office. The whistling bullets made holes in the tables and chairs one after another. The whiskey was spilled out, and fragments of cards and US dollars were flying in the air.

Not long after, the gunshots suddenly quieted down.

With the sound of several glass bottles being crushed and glass rubbing on the floor tiles, Broly walked out of the office, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. There were four or five bullet holes on his clothes, and there was only a blood spot on the skin inside, and the bullet almost failed to penetrate the skin.

He had tested it beforehand and found that rifles and pistols would only hurt as long as they didn't hit vital points. Among the light weapons, the only ones that could threaten him were sniper rifles and machine guns with higher energy.

Even so, he still tried not to be shot by bullets, because it really hurt. The pain made him angry, and his fighting power began to soar.

"Is it possible to be alone?"

The gunshots in the office alarmed the gunmen in other offices. They looked as if they were facing a great enemy and asked in the direction of Broly.

"boom!"

A gunman who quietly pulled the ring of a grenade was suddenly shot in the head by a bullet shot from the top floor. The grenade rolled to the ground. The remaining gunman rushed out of the office hurriedly, but he was shot to the ground by Broly after only a few steps.

He was like a hunter hunting rabbits during hunting season, shooting these rushing gunmen, and occasionally swinging his rifle like playing baseball, beating the gunmen who tried to rush up for hand-to-hand combat into a pulp.

“Boring.”

Broly put away his rifle, feeling a little bored. As a legendary Super Saiyan, new power constantly surged from deep within his body, making him even more powerful.

Facing such a gunman, he could no longer feel any joy in fighting.

Ding, congratulations to the host for reaching level 5 and gaining a skill point.

Ding, 100 people killed, the Saiyan people who succeeded must have blood on their hands. The host has killed more than 100 people in total, and will be awarded 20 revival points. Congratulations to the host for obtaining the skill Oolong Transformation Technique.

Broly had a puzzled look on his face. This transformation technique with only five minutes of transformation time was really embarrassing. He might as well add some points and switch to the Pool Transformation Technique, which at least had no time limit.

Alejandro slid down from the roof with a sling, carrying a sniper rifle. He pushed open the office door with his fingers, took a look at the scene inside, and then looked at the broken bodies on the ground.

"This scene is a bit too big, I can't handle it alone."

The corners of his mouth twitched. Several people's bodies were pierced by fists, and blood, flesh and internal organs were sprayed all over the ground. After hesitating for a moment, he took out an old mobile phone from his pocket and made a call.

"I'm Alejandro. We're going to have a big party of eighty people, and we need you to clean up the place." He sent the satellite coordinates.

Alejandro explained to Broly.

"This is a group of people who specialize in cleaning up the scene for the killer. They are very professional and keep their mouths shut."

"What about those women?" Broly said, "I only kill warriors, not ordinary people."

"We were wearing hoods, so they didn't see anything. But if we just let them go, they would definitely die. It would be better to hand them over to the Mexican police afterwards."

Alejandro hesitated for a moment before speaking. He held his gun and drove the terrified women into the kitchen of the garage and locked the door.

They didn't have to wait too long before the sound of propellers hitting the air came from the sky. A medium-sized transport plane landed on the dirt road outside the repair shop. A dozen people wearing jackets in the hot weather got off the plane. They were also carrying large and small bags of professional tools.

"Alex, you haven't contacted us for a long time."

An old man with gray hair but wearing a very stylish leather jacket took off his hat and gestured to Alejandro.

"When I work for the CIA, I don't need to do cleaning work at my own expense."

Alejandro said with some pain.

"The CIA doesn't do this as cleanly as we do, Alex."

The old man said, and snapped his fingers, signaling his men to start working. Faced with a scene that was obviously not caused by ordinary people, their expressions did not change at all.

"To be honest, if I were in the canning business, I would have made a fortune long ago."

He looked at the corpses all over the ground and whistled.

The scraps of flesh, viscera and bones on the floor were swept into body bags, the bullets embedded in the wall were removed with tweezers and the shells were swept into a pile. Fingerprints and bloodstains were wiped away with a professional cleaning spray.

Not long after, rolls of bodies tied up with tape were loaded onto the plane.

Alejandro took out two rolls of gold coins from his pocket with a painful heart and handed them to the old man.

"You're welcome to come see me again next time."

The old man flicked his cigarette, took the gold coins, and got into the plane in a cool manner.