Leitao efficiently gathered the MK14 assault rifle, paratrooper knife, and spare magazines belonging to the Japanese mercenaries, tossing them into the backseat of his off-road vehicle. His tactical boots crunched against the shell casings littering the ground, creating a crisp, metallic clatter. The smoke had yet to clear, and the air hung heavy with the acrid stench of scorched metal and the sharp sting of tear gas. As he turned to inspect the vehicle for damage, his peripheral vision caught the contorted figure of the restaurant owner—the man’s entire head was shoved beneath the car, his backside pointed toward the sky as he pressed himself against the scorching hot concrete. Dark, wet stains seeped into the knees of his work trousers, and the baggy fabric of his pant legs flapped like tattered flags, shaking uncontrollably with his violent tremors.
"Get up." Leitao used his gun barrel to hook the owner’s collar, hauling him halfway to his feet. The tip of the man’s nose was caked with gravel, his eyes were puffed red from tears and dust, and saliva hung from his lower lip. His pathetic appearance stood in bizarre contrast to the lethal, bullet-riddled carnage that had just transpired. The owner’s legs rattled like a sieve, and a dark urine stain was already trickling down the inside of his pant leg.
"That's a nice pose," Leitao said, his lips curling into a sneer as he pressed the muzzle against the man’s chin. "Fits you perfectly if you want to learn how to bark like a…
Chapter 462