Super Detective in the Fictional World

Approaching more than ten meters, Luke curled himself into a prominent piece of decoration hidden in the wall at this moment and observed the battle ahead. One hand gently pulled out the Glock pistol and the other quickly adjusted the lower satchel Remington to ensure that his movements were not affected.

He took a deep breath after having checked his waist and five spare pistol magazines had not been lost.

Slowly adjust your posture, hold a gun with your hands, and aim down at several shooters on your back.

Boom, boom, boom, boom!

Almost instantly, Luke played all of his agile properties, hitting the magazine with or without a hit, taking less than three seconds in total.

Then he flipped directly from the wall and fell back into the courtyard wall, jumping out quickly.

The fierce exchange of fire suddenly paused and seemed sparse.

Serena and FBI agents who were engaging the shooter suddenly saw three backwards shooters suddenly fall to the ground.

Moreover, in the sound of a assault rifle, the Glock 17 type of shooting, though small, could not be concealed from anyone present.

This is one of the most popular guns in the United States police, and the shooter must be the police.

The reason they're not FBI agents is because they're all reloaded and have no intention of using a pistol at all.

Selena got excited and shot a few panicked shooters over there. She hit a man in the shoulder and let him fall screaming.

Meanwhile, the pressure dropping FBI agents took the blood and knocked down a hasty backward shooter.

The shooter's morale dropped dramatically. Half the people jumped the street instantly. What the hell is this?

Since the beginning of the fighting, more than a thousand rounds have been fired by both sides, but not even the wounded.

And just a few seconds ago, I had five people on my side of the street.

The shooters had lost sight of Selena and the FBI, and they turned around nervously, pointing their guns at the alley of the black hole.

But they can't see anything.

Luke just emptied the magazine for three seconds, and then he slipped away, and they couldn't even react.

As Luke ran, he changed Glock's magazine and slipped it back into his holster.

And through the swing of his body, he threw Remington behind him and grabbed it and took it in his hand.

He quickly circled in front of Old Bill's house, and Luke lowered his body and looked out at the courtyard wall.

Bingo, that frenzy just shot three shooters.

His expectation was to hit two people, and one of them was acceptable, and he wasn't sure how many bullets he'd hit anyway.

As for the other shooter with the shoulder, he definitely didn't do it, and he didn't have it in the range he just shot.

There was also a shooter who fought the FBI on the ground.

The three men he hit, all of them shooting at Selena, were the only ones who completely exposed their backs to him, large enough to stand closer together.

He was able to sweep them off with Glock.

Relaxed his impatient breath, listening to the conductor outside the courtyard wall grunting and talking, Luke unfortunately found himself barely understanding.

That's Mexican Spanish, he understands a few words at most, or he learns it when he's joking with Selena.

However, he understood the word "retreat”.

These guys are gonna run!

Luke laughed at the corner of his mouth: Come if you want, go if you want? When is this a public toilet?

Then he heard a couple of people shouting, and he glanced at it again quickly.

The other two gunmen were found standing on both sides of the back of the garbage truck, and the main messenger entered the cab. The remaining shooter stood on the pedal over there.

Watching the garbage truck start to move and turn to the right, the two gunmen behind it gradually faced the four FBI agents.

Luke stood quietly at Old Bill's courtyard door, which he had opened, silently waiting for Remington.

The garbage truck turns before gradually starting to accelerate.

Just as the speed was about to start, the head appeared to Luke's left of the field of view.

At an alarming rate of reaction, he caught his first shot.

Boom!

The shooter hanging outside the right door was shot straight out.

Luke pulled his guard fast.

Boom!

The windshield in the cab broke a large piece.

Boom!

Another shot was fired on the windshield.

This time, the windshield was obviously broken, and Luke, though he didn't see it, heard a scream from the driver, and the whole garbage truck suddenly swerved to the left.

Luke doesn't move.

Boom!

The shooter standing at the right rear of the garbage truck was taken around an arc and sent to Luke. He was blown in the face by Remington, less than five meters away, and rolled out.

Boom!

Another shooter who followed him to the door was also shot in the trash can of the garbage truck.

Luke watched the garbage truck shake cold and crashed into the yard across the street, stopping when he just gave Serena's police car another ceiling.

He removed the bullet from the belt and pressed it into the magazine, not slowly.

He rarely plays shotguns, and in recent days he has been trained for raids, and he has not been able to do the same level of two shots a second.

But he's not in a hurry.

It's nighttime, and he's gonna pop out of nowhere, and Selena should be able to recognize him, and FBI agents might give him a shuttle.

He was also in no hurry to speak up.

There should be that commander in the cockpit.

Then, he saw the cab door open suddenly, and a man rolled out cleverly, turning into the bottom of the car and climbing to the front of the car, never giving Luke a chance to shoot.

“FU % K!” Luke cursed.

It's the conductor. He's a cunning man.

He had to go around and jump back onto Old Bill's yard wall and look down again at the gunmen who had just been knocked down.

He had a flashing machine in his eyes, and Remington in his hand had no hesitation in targeting the man who had been shot in the shoulder by Selina.

Boom!

The sweaty shooter had a bloody chest, incredibly looking at his chest, motionless.

Luke jumped off the wall and pulled his guard so close that he didn't have to aim, replenishing one shot at each of the gunmen who fell.

When he finished, he shouted, "I'm Luke. This place has been cleaned up. Attention, don't shoot. ”

The approaching FBI agent was frightened by the shotgun shots and was relieved to hear the shout at this moment.

No shotgun was used by the shooters, and they saw it clearly.

Luke, on the other hand, has been carrying a Remington shotgun in his car lately, and these agents know it.