Puff, puff, puff, puff, puff… Every single one of the two dozen attackers had a bullet hole right in the forehead!

Li Mo blinked his despairing eyes open again, completely stunned by the sight. He couldn't fathom how Qin Fen, also a four-star Martial Artist, could possess such ferocious power—locking onto every opponent instantly and taking them down with gunfire?

The besiegers also witnessed this. Many among them were retired military personnel who understood firearms mechanics and the sheer difficulty of such rapid shooting; this sweep seemed entirely reliant on blind luck. Unless the shooter was intimately acquainted with the Goddess of Fortune, the chance of every shot landing was barely greater than zero. Because they understood the difficulty better, the besiegers were even more aghast. A surge of icy coldness shot up their spines, straight into their brains. Almost everyone harbored the same thought: If we don't kill him, we will all die by his hand.

Nearly a hundred men subconsciously abandoned their combat positions, gripping their weapons and crouching low as they rapidly retreated towards the street entrance. Li Mo finally snapped back to reality. With a freak like that controlling a gun, as long as he had enough ammunition and stamina, no one here stood a chance of survival. Compared to the value of a single bullet, the cost of resurrecting here even once was considerably steep.

“Forget the Dragon Hall for now, just take down this Thirty-Six Hours!” Li Mo shrieked hysterically. “Hurry! Take him down first!” At that moment, the still-dazed besiegers also grasped a critical truth: if Thirty-Six Hours survived, every one of them would be killed by him. The contingent of less than five hundred men simultaneously abandoned their assault on the Dragon Hall, just like the previous hundred, pulling back from their positions with their weapons.

Far down the street, Qin Fen stood amidst twenty-plus rifles, one hand casually holding his weapon. He watched the gathering enemies with cold eyes. He tossed the AK-74, which had just felled over a hundred enemies, casually onto the ground. This action made all advancing attackers freeze, unable to decipher the intent of the street’s most notorious man.

Clang!

The single backpack behind Qin Fen unzipped. The massive thing hidden inside was finally revealed to everyone’s sight. An M134 Minigun? Those who had served or were firearms enthusiasts instantly recognized the metal behemoth in Qin Fen’s hands, complete with its electric motor and six rotating barrels. The M134 Minigun—a monster capable of spitting out six thousand rounds per minute! A weapon that once dominated the rate-of-fire charts for decades! A super killing machine capable of effortlessly tearing apart a rhinoceros or even an elephant—the M134 Minigun! Though in this current era, weapons like the Metal Storm or EMP Cannons far surpassed its destructive power, it didn't mean the weapon had faded into history. Given its price tag, which was countless times lower than the Metal Storm or EMP Cannon, and several improvements to its mechanism and ammunition, this weapon remained highly active in contemporary military operations.

The massive column of several hundred men froze instantly. “Heavens! He’s carrying an M134 Minigun all by himself? When did they start making a man-portable version?” “Good God! How much money does this Thirty-Six Hours have? Even a used M134 must cost at least fifteen thousand US dollars!”

Qin Fen winced internally as he overheard the weapon’s estimated price. To be precise, the M134, along with eight thousand rounds of ammunition, had cost him a total of sixteen thousand five hundred US dollars!

Qin Fen understood clearly: the Dragon Hall absolutely could not fall. Being wiped out and re-established was easy, but losing its reputation would be permanent! His previous feat of taking on fourteen factions simultaneously was undoubtedly a successful and enormous piece of free advertising. Riding this momentum, Qin Fen knew the income generated from recruiting new members far outweighed the cost of a virtual M134.

Staring at these panicked men, holding a weapon costing sixteen thousand five hundred dollars, Qin Fen deeply resented this group for forcing him to waste so much money. Only the most insane level of attack could truly suppress them, deterring other factions on the street from entertaining similar thoughts.

Whirrrrrr…

The electric motor of the M134 spun up softly. The first reaction of the besiegers upon hearing that skin-crawling sound wasn't to raise their guns, but to flee! The incident where Qin Fen single-handedly eliminated over twenty men with an AK-74 had just happened. Everyone still remembered that scene, something no normal person could replicate; an instinctive fear had taken root in their minds towards him. When this equally near-invincible M13 appeared, it became the final straw that broke the camel’s back!

The M134 Minigun began unleashing its metal torrent. The six dark barrels spat red flashes, and the deafening roar of the gunfire represented Qin Fen’s personal agony over the monetary expense. Qin Fen could no longer manage one kill per bullet. Facing a firing rate of six thousand rounds per minute, even a supercomputer couldn't aim for a one-bullet-per-kill ratio. Facing a street jammed with people, Qin Fen didn't need that precision; sweeping in a fan pattern was more than enough!

Flesh and blood instantly flew across the street. This metal torrent could easily shred human bodies into chunks, into meat paste! Bullets passing through the first person, then the second, then the third, was entirely normal.

Some men took cover behind walls, hoping the concrete could stop the frantic metal tide. But they were wrong; they had watched too much television, believing that hiding behind a wall would merely result in 'pew pew' sounds as bullets bounced off harmlessly. A real M134 could penetrate two feet of packed earth and still punch through your body! The furious metal torrent smashed through the wall, tearing into the hiding individual, proving the true power of firearms through stark reality.

In less than thirty seconds of continuous fire, the once bustling street fell into absolute silence. Of the nearly six hundred people who had been on the street, fewer than fifty remained—all the clever ones who had immediately dropped to the ground.

Li Mo, hiding in the rear, was truly dumbfounded. He never imagined the outcome would be like this. Thirty-Six Hours, legendary only for martial arts combat, was utilizing firearms with such divine proficiency. Thirty-Six Hours, the legendary miser known as a money-sucking vampire, was bleeding money to purchase an armament like the M134, so expensive it made one want to vomit blood. Li Mo could not have predicted that Qin Fen, alone, could operate a single-soldier weapon like the M134, something clearly designed for a multi-person crew, with such practiced ease.

The roar of the M134 Minigun ceased, but no one lying on the ground dared to move. Everyone knew that the M134, still humming with residual power, could unleash a fresh wave of the metal torrent feast at any moment.

Clank…

The gate of the Dragon Hall, already riddled with bullet holes, was pushed open. The Dragon Hall warriors, who had been strictly defending, charged out with their weapons raised. Now was the time for their counterattack! Those killed wouldn't need to fear respawning anymore! Their guns, dropped during their deaths, now lay on the ground.

A new recruit approached a prone attacker, mockingly holding up his own rifle. “Buddy, here’s some good news: you’re captured. You can pay half the revival fee to redeem your life. Of course, if you’d rather donate your cash to this system, which is even more vampiric than Thirty-Six Hours, I wouldn’t mind wasting an extra bullet.”

Qin Fen walked past the recruit and gave him a hearty thumbs-up. This battle had cost too much; any chance to earn some back now was welcome. Qin Fen then looked at Li Mo, who was being escorted before him. “I’m a man who never works against money, so you should feel incredibly honored, because you are the first person to make me consider going against my finances, and the first one to make me act on it.” As the words fell, the barrel of the M134 in Qin Fen's hand smashed down heavily onto Li Mo’s skull.

Qin Fen despised this man utterly. Lacking courage, lacking mettle, lacking strength—the only thing Li Mo possessed was an unwarranted sense of self-importance. Yet, it was precisely this man, devoid of strength, spirit, or bravery, who caused Qin Fen such tremendous financial loss.

“Old Qin, you might not lose money this time,” Zhang Xiangyang said with a grin, pointing at the firearms scattered on the ground. “There are several hundred guns here. Selling them all to the shop as used gear will fetch a total value higher than the price of your Minigun.”

Qin Fen smiled. Those dull, ugly pieces of metal lying on the ground now looked like golden banknotes radiating yellow light in his eyes. “Where’s Du Peng?” Qin Fen suddenly remembered his comrade. Zhang Xiangyang shrugged and pouted. “He left right after the fighting ended.” “I see…” Qin Fen smiled. Since they would be attending special training together later, there was no need to rush things now.

The Dragon Hall personnel were casually cleaning the battlefield when an angry roar echoed through a loudspeaker from the street entrance. As the roar faded, the eyes of the Dragon Hall members turned toward the street entrance, filled with shocked disbelief. At this moment, the expressions on the faces of the Dragon Hall members were strikingly similar to those of the besiegers when Qin Fen first pulled out the Minigun. A Mobile Armor! An old, second-hand Mobile Armor had appeared at the street entrance! The track-driven Mobile Armor advanced quickly, and seated inside was none other than Li Mo, the man Qin Fen had just smashed to death with a single shot.

“Qin Fen! I’ll fight you to the death!” Li Mo’s eyes were bloodshot; he hated Qin Fen to the core! If this strange Thirty-Six Hours hadn't shown up, he wouldn't have taken on the Dragon Hall banner, wouldn't have been looked down upon for his cowardice, certainly wouldn't have been beaten to death while trying to gain an advantage, and consequently, the ridicule on the Four-Star Forum and the departure of his faction members would never have happened.