Chapter 347: Chapter 335: Manual Launch

Reinforced concrete is the best medium for transmitting sound; it brought back the rapid footsteps. The gang had finished sealing off the area and was now rushing in through the front door!

The gunfire fell and rose. Orange light burst forth in the darkness, striking the door and splashing spectacular orange sparks.

The attackers had shown their true colors and were no longer pretending to be a survivor’s base.

In the dark, various modern machinery, long since silent and covered in dust, echoed the only remaining sounds through the air: the roar of engines from the streets and the sound of gunfire.

The world had fallen into a strange, black silence.

Bi Fang suddenly asked Matthew, “Did you see any other ways in when you arrived? Like a vent or some path less traveled by ordinary people?”

Matthew shook his head nervously, “No, I didn’t find any other way. I came in through a side door that had been blown open. Was that your doing? What a spectacular scene. What did you use to blow it up? Do you have any more? Are we…”

Bi Fang didn’t answer.

The acetylene cylinders were too heavy and not easy to ignite or detonate, similar to fuse explosives, which were very inconvenient to use. Using them to break through the encirclement was not feasible.

“Let’s go!”

Bi Fang suddenly grabbed Matthew by the wrist and ran into the darkness. Matthew stumbled but quickly followed, taking cover with Bi Fang behind a load-bearing wall.

The next moment, an explosion sounded, the door lock was blown off, and people swarmed in from the entrance. The beams of flashlights swept across the first floor, leaving the spot where the two had just hidden completely exposed.

Under the light, Bi Fang could even see the types of firearms they carried, most of which were sawed-off shotguns.

“Shotguns fire a barrage and are well-suited for breaching doors. A hit is not lethal, but for the person hit, it’s worse than death.”

Bi Fang glanced down, confirming the grouping and movements of several people, then turned his head.

“Dozens of lead pellets would embed themselves into flesh in an instant, creating honeycomb-like wounds, and you wouldn’t even bleed because the entry wounds are plugged by the pellets, but the injuries could last a lifetime.”

The gangsters didn’t kill people; living people were valuable. Dead people could only contribute organs. If they were not handled properly, they couldn’t even donate organs, greatly reducing their value.

Hearing such a gruesome scenario, Matthew shuddered, feeling as if a cold snake had slithered over his heart.

The audience was even more anxious but didn’t know what to do. Helpless behind a screen, they dared not and could not offer any help, only able to send their encouragement to Bi Fang through the chat.

However, this was of little use compared to handing Bi Fang an unloaded gun…

On the first floor, the gangsters fired their guns, threatening the survivors to come out, while doors were violently blasted open, with paper and wood chips flying and dust filling the air.

The silent factory became noisy and rowdy. Under such tension, Bi Fang closed his eyes.

A huge three-dimensional map began to grow wildly in his mind like branches, the giant factory breaking down into squares, old paths blocked, new routes forming.

As time ticked by the second, Matthew nervously watched the gangsters, his heart racing. Under the light, he saw a staircase in the corner, and the gangsters were drawing near!

The stairwell was not part of the steel factory Bi Fang had infiltrated earlier. The steel factory had no distinct floors and was very high, with only some beams fitted with railings to form corridor-like pathways.

When Bi Fang reached the top floor and climbed out onto the balcony, he was in another factory building.

Just as Matthew turned to warn Bi Fang, he suddenly noticed that Bi Fang had closed his eyes.

What?

“They’re coming up.”

Matthew urged nervously, just when he thought Bi Fang might have fallen asleep, a pair of bright eyes suddenly burst open in the dark.

Bi Fang dragged Matthew inside.

“Just now, when I slid down the duct, I vaguely saw a drain on the third floor, quite large in diameter, about twenty inches, roughly half a meter, very thick. It might be a sewage outlet or maybe the staff bathhouse. It wouldn’t be hard for the two of us to go through, but we have to go up first!”

“How do we go up?”

“The stairs.”

The duct could be descended, but it was not feasible for climbing up. If they were to try climbing it now and were discovered, they would merely serve as targets; any method that didn’t allow a quick ascent was impractical at this moment.

Matthew knew this, but he had already noticed that someone had explored towards the stairwell: “But there’s someone over there!”

“Then we kill them… Have you got a lighter?”

“Yes!”

Bi Fang reached out his hand towards Matthew, and a windproof lighter was immediately stuffed into the palm of his hand.

Matthew wasn’t there to survive; he had brought a full range of basic equipment. Although he had lost most of it while being chased, he still had some small tools.

Bi Fang wrapped his left hand in cloth, holding the barrel of the gun, then pulled out a 7.5mm rifle bullet from his pocket. Casually picking up a snakeskin bag from the ground, he cut off a small piece with a dagger, wrapped the bullet, and stuffed it into the steel pipe.

“As the biggest consumable on the battlefield, bullets generally consist of four parts: the bullet head, the propellant, the casing, and the primer. The design of this thing hasn’t changed much since it was created in the 19th century.”

“When shooting, you first pull the trigger, which causes the firing pin to strike the primer of the bullet, igniting the propellant inside the casing. Once the propellant burns and the internal pressure of the casing rises to 250 to 500 kg/cm2, the bullet head is pushed out of the casing, squeezed into the rifling, and shot out rapidly under the action of high-pressure gas, inflicting damage on the target with its powerful kinetic energy.”

Bi Fang advanced to the stairwell with Matthew, his tone not fluctuating much, as if it wasn’t him who was in danger.

Turning the corner, a sharp metallic sound rang out. Bi Fang flipped open the lighter, rubbed the flint, and set fire to it. He then scorched the base of the bullet inside the steel pipe, making Matthew’s eyelids twitch as he watched. He moved away a few steps without changing expression, but the next second, a burst of gunfire from downstairs brought him a few steps closer again.

“The primer will ignite the propellant and shoot out the bullet head when exposed to high temperature or severe impact. Some bullets are heavy; when fired, the propellant blasts out of the thinner part of the casing first, so it’s quite possible that the casing explodes but the bullet doesn’t shoot out.”

“That’s why we can’t use handgun bullets with short bodies and heavy heads; we can only use rifle bullets with light heads and long bodies.”

“Many people must think that after heating a bullet, the bullet head will fly erratically in the air, possibly hitting someone nearby by accident. But in reality, this is not the case. A bullet that has left the gun may explode, but if you maintain a certain safe distance, it is not as dangerous as imagined.”

“Wait… you’re going to shoot the bullet!?”

Matthew exclaimed in shock, as if only at this moment coming to his senses. The entire factory was filled with gunfire, so there was no need to deliberately lower one’s voice.

“Just use this…”

A deafening gunshot cut off what Matthew was about to say, leaving him staring blankly at the bullet holes in the wall, speechless.

Bi Fang shook his numb left hand and glanced at the stupefied Matthew.

“Yeah, what about it?”