Bullets fell like rain, explosions echoed, and endless murderous intent permeated the night sky. The whole slum seemed to boil over, houses collapsing, and screams following in succession. Ghost Hand and others threw button bombs everywhere, seeing the enemy rushing up, they charged forward without hesitation, each like predatory tigers, their feet swift as the wind, chased the team that was advancing ahead.
The Pot Lid Heads at the back saw their target was running and naturally dared not lag behind, rushing out of cover to charge up the street, their guns firing wildly. Bullets chased Ghost Hand and the others' heels, pushing everyone to move even faster. In the face of life and death, unprecedented potential exploded forth from them.
