Chapter 51 The Chaotic Era
At the doorway of the room on the second floor, three armed thugs arrived. The man in the woolen hat lifted his leg and kicked the door lock three times. The door panel only slightly loosened, and the lock was dented and deformed.
"He's throwing his weight against it," the burly man standing on the left said with frost on his beard and a fierce look, "Step aside a bit."
The other two heard this and moved to the side.
After several gunshots, the center of the wooden door panel was riddled with seven or eight bullet holes.
Another burly man nearby lifted his leg and kicked the center of the bullet holes, causing the door panel to shatter on the spot, revealing a large hole.
Inside, Alexander was separated from the door panel by a cabinet, so after the door shattered, he couldn't get close to the door in time.
Three guns were thrust through the hole which was kicked open by the burly man.
Alexander, with red eyes, gripped the edge of the cabinet with both hands, gritted his teeth, and stood up.
The cabinet was lifted at an angle and crashed toward the hole.
Rapid gunfire echoed in the hallway and the bullets hit the cabinet, emitting a strong smell of gunpowder.
Standing on the wooden floor, Alexander stepped on several pools of his own blood, using his shoulder to prop up the cabinet and block the door again.
The man in the woolen hat cursed and turned to ask, "Did you bring any grenades?"
"No." The burly man shook his head.
"Quickly crash it open."
At this moment, the three no longer had a clear shooting vision, and with the thickness of the cabinet, even though it was hollow in the middle, it had two thick wooden panels. So, the bullets hitting the wooden panels were a matter of chance. Some could penetrate the cabinet while others would get stuck in the back panel.
Alexander had saved money for years to come here from the unregulated area, and now that he finally had a space to survive, he definitely didn't want to be killed so easily. Using all his strength and relying on his tall and strong physique, he desperately held the cabinet, striving for a slim chance of survival.
After three or four minutes of ramming, the three men stopped, and Alexander gradually lost strength. Combined with the massive bleeding from his gunshot wounds, he felt his head spinning violently. But even so, he continued to hold the cabinet, shaking his head vigorously to stay awake.
Downstairs.
The man in the woolen hat had just grabbed the store's fire axe at the door when he saw two cars speeding over.
The screeching sound of brakes filled the air as two police SUVs stopped by the roadside.
The man in the woolen hat cursed and immediately shouted, "That guy called for backup. Let's go."
The two men heard this and rushed out of the store, firing decisively in the direction of the SUVs.
As the intense gunfire erupted, Alexander's phone rang.
"Hello?"
"We've encountered the enemies downstairs," John's voice came through, "Don't worry. We're coming up right away."
Hearing this, Alexander instantly felt relaxed.
At the intersection of Maple Street and Vine Street, dozens of police vehicles stopped, and three hundred officers in combat gear, wearing bulletproof vests and holding riot shields, rushed out.
"Each group, follow the instructions and disperse the rioting crowd," the deputy chief of police shouted at his walkie-talkie, sweating profusely. "Be mindful of enforcement measures. Do not escalate the situation. Again, focus on dispersing them!"
After continuous shouting, the three hundred officers, holding their shields, advanced into Maple Street.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the icy, chaotic street. The officers, marching in formation, were stunned after advancing less than 200 feet.
Gunshots rang out chaotically. Homemade Molotov cocktails were thrown and at least a thousand people were engaged in a violent brawl on the narrow street.
On both sides of the street, glass shattered, and many doorways were ablaze. Knives and clubs were everywhere, and the injured either ran away or lay on the ground wailing. The scene was as chaotic as a riot-stricken disaster zone.
"Team Two, advance."
"Team Three, advance."
"Security team, advance."
After repeated calls on their dedicated frequency channels, the officers advanced again.
"Drop your weapons and squat down!"
"Hands on your head!"
"Don't move, or we'll shoot!"
As the officers approached the brawling crowd, they kept shouting, but the two rival gangs, blinded by rage, ignored them.
Meanwhile, many residents secretly helping the Anderson family inside the buildings threw homemade incendiary bombs down.
"Fire!"
"Raise your shields. They're throwing objects from above."
The officers, numbering only three hundred and under strict orders not to escalate the conflict, were hesitant. Unable to shoot indiscriminately, they were quickly scattered by Molotov cocktails and the chaotic crowd as they entered Maple Street.
Four or five officers from Team Three, trying to subdue a man hacking away, were suddenly ambushed by a group of men with white armbands, who shot and killed a young officer on the spot.
Deep in Maple Street.
A man in charge of drug sales under Terry's company, leading seven or eight people, had beaten a middle-aged man to death in a filthy alley.
After slashing the man's neck, the thug shouted, "Tell Benjamin if he doesn't leave Maple Street in three days, I'll kill his entire family here."
At the warehouse entrance in the alley, Benjamin threw off his military coat. His eyes red with anger, he shouted through gritted teeth, "You want to push us to the limit, huh? Then none of us will have it easy. Listen up, everyone. If you still want to make a living in the drug trade, grab your weapons and head to the Neon Club. If we fail this time, we're all done."
"Go get them!"
"Let's go to the Neon Club."
Hundreds of low-level workers dependent on the drug trade shouted in agreement.
At the entrance of Vine Street.
The three hundred officers, having rushed into Maple Street for less than ten minutes, retreated in disarray, with dozens injured and three dead.
By the vehicles, the deputy chief of police, with a grim expression, called Samuel.
"How is it going?"
"It's worse than expected. Our teams were pushed back as soon as they went in." The deputy chief panted. "I suggest calling the National Guard. We can't effectively control the chaos."
Inside the second floor of a building on Elm Street.
Terry was playing cards with three subsidiary company bosses.
"This is getting out of hand. Won't it be hard to clean up?" a bald burly man asked with a frown, "I've received several calls from the police department, and they sounded pretty serious."
"If it doesn't get big, Benjamin won't feel actual pain" Terry replied nonchalantly, "Tell our buddies on the ground. If anyone dies, I'll cover the funeral costs; if anyone gets arrested, I'll use my connections to get them out. If we don't use money and connections now, when will we? I want Benjamin to know he's far from our level."
"Should you return the police department's call?" the bald man asked again.
"No, they're just looking for trouble," Terry sneered, "If they want a cut of the drug profits, they have to help me. Otherwise, why should I share the profits with them? Let's wait until this is over."
In the superintendent's office, Samuel personally called Benjamin, but Benjamin didn't answer. Furious, Samuel slammed the table and shouted, "Call the National Guards. I don't believe a bunch of drug dealers can be so brazen!"
"Protocol requires us to consult the police department first," the political affairs commissioner gently reminded.
Samuel immediately waved his hand in response. "Terry has connections in the police department. If we ask for permission, it'll take hours. And who knows how many people will die on Maple Street by then? Who's responsible for the consequences in the end? Me!"
The commissioner was taken aback. "You're right."
"Call Eli Roberts from the National Guards and tell him I need troops to suppress the riot," Samuel urged urgently, "Hurry, we can't let this escalate further."
"I'm on it." The commissioner nodded and left.
Meanwhile, Alexander, barely conscious, was rescued by John and immediately taken to the hospital.
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