Director Bru sat in the front passenger seat of the police car. As they were about to enter the old industrial district, he drew his pistol and checked whether the magazine was fully loaded, then put it back in.
It had been a long time since he had meticulously checked his weapon like this, and of course, this wasn't a standard police-issued gun.
As the officers would say, a revolver is so obsolete, even a dog wouldn't use it.
With only six bullets, reloading was so slow an opponent could rush at you from twenty meters away and stab you.
Except for the rookies, most veteran officers owned several weapons.
After ensuring there were no problems with the weapon and that the safety was off, he slipped the gun into the holster inside his jacket.
He opened the glove compartment from the passenger seat, where there was an ammo pouch with several loaded magazines.
He strapped the ammo pouch to his waist, inserted all the magazines into it, and let out a heavy breath of murky air.
