Chapter 360: Target Acquired

"Target acquired on the second floor!" the lead merc yelled into his radio. "Engaging!"

Rick didn’t dive for cover. He didn’t even flinch.

"You broke my fucking windows," Rick growled, absolutely furious about the real estate damage.

Rick raised the AA-12 from the hip and held the trigger down.

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!

The automatic shotgun roared with deafening, concussive force in the enclosed hallway. The weapon fired three heavy 12-gauge shells every single second.

The lead mercenary caught a full blast directly in the chest. At this close range, the heavy buckshot didn’t care about his Kevlar plating. The sheer kinetic energy shredded the armour and completely caved his ribcage in. The man was lifted off his feet and blown violently backwards out the broken window.

Rick swept the heavy barrel to the right, keeping the trigger pinned.

The second and third mercenaries were caught in the lethal spread. The shotgun blasts literally tore them to pieces. Arms were severed at the shoulder, flying through the air. Thick, dark blood sprayed in massive, high-pressure arcs across the pristine walls.

One blast hit the third merc directly in the stomach, blowing his intestines completely out of his back. The man let out a horrifying shriek as his lower half turned into a messy pulp of ground meat and bone fragments. He collapsed onto the cream-coloured rug, instantly staining the expensive fabric a deep, ruined crimson.

"Look at this mess!" Rick yelled over the gunfire. "Do you have any idea how much that rug costs?!"

The shotgun clicked empty. The heavy drum magazine was fully dry.

The fourth mercenary was still alive. He had ducked low, avoiding the main spread of the buckshot. He looked at his slaughtered squadmates in sheer terror, his boots slipping in the massive puddles of fresh blood.

He raised his rifle, aiming at Rick’s bare chest.

Rick didn’t bother reloading. He simply dropped the heavy AA-12 onto the floor.

He lunged forward, closing the twenty feet between them in less than a second, moving with terrifying, System-enhanced speed.

Rick drew the carbon steel machete from his belt in one fluid, brutal motion.

The mercenary pulled the trigger, firing a wild burst. The bullets missed, burying themselves into the ceiling plaster.

Rick swung the machete with bone-crushing force. The sharp, heavy blade cleaved directly through the mercenary’s right wrist.

SHNK.

The man’s hand, still clutching the grip of his rifle, hit the floor with a heavy thud.

The mercenary screamed, grabbing his spouting stump. Blood sprayed wildly, hitting an expensive oil painting on the wall and ruining the canvas completely.

"Shut the fuck up," Rick snarled.

Rick reversed his grip on the machete and swung it horizontally with everything he had.

The thick steel blade hit the mercenary perfectly in the side of the neck. It bit deep, slicing through Kevlar weave, thick muscle, the jugular vein, and entirely through the spinal column.

Rick followed through, completely decapitating the man in a single strike.

The head popped off the shoulders, soaring through the air. It bounced twice on the Persian rug, leaving thick red smears, before rolling to a stop against the baseboard. The headless corpse stood perfectly still for a fraction of a second before a massive geyser of blood erupted from the neck stump, painting the vintage wallpaper entirely red.

The body collapsed heavily onto the floor.

Rick stood in the middle of the carnage, his bare chest heaving slightly. His chest, face, and slacks were speckled with fresh blood and tiny chunks of gore.

[Ding!] [Oversight Assault Squad Eliminated.] [Reward: 15,000 XP.]

Rick looked down at the ruined hallway. The Persian rug was completely soaked in blood and guts. The vintage wallpaper was destroyed. Broken glass was everywhere.

"I literally owned this place for less than an hour," Rick complained bitterly, wiping a drop of warm blood off his forehead with the back of his hand.

He stepped over the headless corpse, his bare feet squelching in the gore. He gripped the bloody machete tightly and walked towards the grand marble staircase that led down to the first floor.

The sounds of heavy fighting had stopped. The Warner guards outside were all dead.

Rick reached the top of the sweeping, white marble stairs. He looked down into the massive grand foyer.

A second wave of Corporate Oversight mercenaries was pouring through the blown-out front doors. There were at least ten of them. They were heavily armoured, carrying thick ballistic riot shields and heavy assault rifles. They formed a tight, professional tactical turtle formation at the base of the stairs, preparing to push up to the second floor.

"Shield wall set!" one of the mercs yelled from the bottom. "Push up! Find the target!"

Rick looked at them. He didn’t have his shotgun. His pistol wouldn’t penetrate those heavy ballistic shields.

Rick smirked. He mentally opened his System inventory.

[Item Retrieved: Bundle of M67 Fragmentation Grenades (x4).]

The heavy, olive-green metal spheres materialised in his hands.

"Hey, assholes!" Rick shouted down the stairwell.

The mercenaries at the bottom stopped. They tilted their shields back, looking up at the half-naked man standing at the top of the stairs holding a bloody machete.

"Open fire!" the squad leader screamed.

Rick didn’t give them a chance. He brought two of the grenades to his mouth. He bit down on the metal pins with his teeth, yanked his head back to pull them, and spat the pins onto the marble floor. He did the exact same with the other two.

He held four live grenades in his hands. The metal spoons pinged off.

Rick didn’t throw them. He bent down slightly and rolled all four grenades smoothly down the steep marble stairs, exactly like heavy bowling balls.

Clack-clack-clack-clack.

The metal grenades bounced down the steps, rolling completely under the heavy ballistic shields of the tactical formation.

The mercenaries looked down at their boots. Absolute panic set in.

"GRENADES! SCATTER!"

It was far too late.

The enclosed space of the grand marble stairwell magnified the blast. All four grenades detonated at the exact same millisecond.

BOOM!

The explosion was apocalyptic.

The concussive shockwave blew the heavy front doors completely off the mansion. The pristine white marble of the staircase shattered into a million jagged pieces, turning into lethal shrapnel.

The tactical shield formation was instantly obliterated. Thick ballistic shields were ripped in half like cardboard. Human limbs, shredded Kevlar, and heavy boots were blown violently up the stairwell, hitting the ceiling. A severed, smoking arm slapped wetly against the railing near Rick, dropping back down into the smoke.

The deafening echo rang through the massive house.

Rick stood at the top of the stairs, completely unbothered. The blast wave had simply ruffled his dark hair.

He waited three seconds for the thick, grey smoke to clear slightly.

He started walking down the ruined, smoking stairs. The marble was shattered, exposing the heavy concrete underneath. Rick stepped carefully, avoiding the jagged edges with his bare feet.

The foyer was a complete slaughterhouse.

Bodies were stacked on top of each other, twisted in highly unnatural, horrifying angles. Most of the mercenaries were dead, blown into unrecognisable chunks of charred meat.

However, two of them were still alive.

One man was missing both of his legs from the knees down. He was dragging his bleeding, shredded torso across the cracked tiles, coughing up black smoke and blood, desperately trying to crawl towards the exit.

Rick didn’t use the machete. He opened his inventory.

[Item Retrieved: Suppressed .45 Tactical Pistol.]

Rick aimed the heavy black pistol down at the crawling man.

Pfft.

A single, suppressed shot took the man right in the back of the head. His face slammed into the floor, instantly dead.

Rick stepped over him. The second survivor was lying on his back, his hands pressed tightly against a massive shrapnel wound in his gut. His helmet was gone, and he was sobbing in sheer agony.

The man looked up at Rick. "Please..." he wheezed. "I surrender..."

"I don’t take prisoners," Rick said coldly.

Pfft.

Rick double-tapped him directly between the eyes. The man’s skull jerked back against the floor, a pool of dark blood expanding rapidly around his head.

Rick stood in the massive, ruined foyer. He was the only one left breathing.

He raised his free hand and wiped a thick smear of soot and blood off his bare, muscular chest. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

He looked towards the massive front doors, expecting to see The Huntsman waiting on the lawn. But the driveway was empty.

A loud, heavy metallic crash echoed from deep inside the house.

Rick frowned. The sound came from below.

The Huntsman hadn’t come through the front door. He had gone through the service entrance around the back.

Rick turned his head, looking down the dark corridor that led to the reinforced steel door of the basement cellar. The exact same cellar where he had ordered the guards to lock Marnus Warner.

"Fucking rat," Rick growled.

He gripped his pistol tightly and headed straight towards the basement.