My Manor

Bell set up his gun, loaded the bullet, aimed, and fired in one swift motion. The training he had received in the Delta to become a killing machine was now paying off. When he locked the crosshairs with his night-vision goggles on the attackers, death followed instantly.

"Bang!" With a crisp shot, a man attacking Jiang Hai's manor looked down at the blood hole in his chest with an expression of disbelief before collapsing, confused. His companions stood frozen in shock.

They weren't surprised that one of their own had fallen, but that the sniper had returned.

Just moments ago, they had clearly heard Jiang Hai order the sniper to handle the enemies in the villa. Now, with the sniper back and complete silence from the villa, it was clear—everyone inside the villa was finished.

Without reinforcements, they knew they were doomed. The realization chilled them to the bone.

They exchanged glances and saw fear mirrored in each other's eyes.

"Run!" someone shouted, and many gave up the idea of continuing the fight. They were ready to flee, but could they?

Another shot rang out, and another man crumpled to the ground in a pool of blood. The sound of the sniper rifle was like a signal, and the remaining attackers scattered in all directions. Though they were only third-rate fighters, relying on bravado, they were experts when it came to fleeing. They knew they couldn't run in a straight line—they had to split up.

Maybe two of them would manage to escape.

The remaining eleven people darted in eleven different directions. But just as they left the cover of the bunker, the shotguns began to fire. Shotguns didn't need precision—just aim in the general direction and fire. Five of the eleven attackers fell, struck by the shotguns.

Six continued to flee, but they were immediately targeted by Jiang Hai and Bell. With a coordinated sweep of sniper rifles and machine guns, Jiang Hai took out three of them at once, while Bell dispatched another. Only two of the six managed to reach the bushes in the distance, but Jiang Hai and his team were unconcerned—they had reinforcements waiting for them.

Sure enough, with the sound of barking dogs, two more screams echoed from the bushes. All the invaders who had entered Jiang Hai's manor were now dead.

Looking at the outer wall of his villa, pocked with bullet holes, and his damaged car, Jiang Hai's heart sank. He knew the losses would be significant, and the worst part was that he would have to cover them himself.

The attackers certainly didn't have the means to pay for the damage, and the insurance company wouldn't cover the gunfire damage.

Because of this, Jiang Hai realized he would be footing the bill once again. But when he considered the alternative—what would have happened if he hadn't resisted, and the importance of the people in his manor—these losses weren't as significant.

"Let's sort out the inventory tomorrow. We need to deal with the guys outside now." After taking a long breath, Jiang Hai patted Moses Adams, who had been hiding nearby. Although Moses was the kind of person who couldn't carry heavy loads or lift anything, he was still a man, so Jiang Hai had initially kept him inside the villa for safety.

But Moses had come outside, grabbed a small pistol, and joined the fight. He didn't kill anyone, and he fired more than a dozen shots, but Jiang Hai admired his willingness to share in the hardship.

"I won't go," Moses Adams said with a bitter smile, feeling his own weakness.

"Just stay here," Jiang Hai said with a smile, waving to Bell upstairs. After the two came down, they started the only car still operational—the war machine—and headed for the airport.

At the airport, Jiang Hai and Bell boarded Maren Rupert's helicopter, flew out, and headed outside the manor. The helicopter had been outfitted with a fixed machine-gun mount. After firing nearly 500 rounds of bullets, Jiang Hai, despite his strong physical fitness, was beginning to feel the strain. The recoil was intense, and even he was struggling to keep steady.

As the helicopter left the manor, both the police and the criminals outside were stunned, particularly the latter.

When Jiang Hai opened the cabin door and revealed the M134 machine gun, Doyle George, hiding behind a police car, couldn't help but laugh. He knew they would win—there was no backup for the attackers.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" The rapid-fire sound of 7.62mm bullets filled the air.

The attackers never imagined they'd be under fire from above. Even those hiding in cars were no match for the M134's power. The car's side armor couldn't withstand the onslaught, and neither could the alloy on the roof.

As the bullets continued to rain down, those who had come for a fake fight were left in disbelief, watching their comrades be torn apart by the helicopter's gunfire. Many of them, seeing no way out, began to flee.

But could they escape?

Don't forget, there was still Bell. Anyone who tried to get into the cab would meet the same fate—they'd be shot before they could make it. Blood flowed, and screams echoed as the attackers at Jiang Hai's manor were mowed down.

Americans, when faced with defeat, were rarely stubborn. Seeing they couldn't win, many of the attackers dropped to their knees and surrendered with their hands over their heads.

Although Jiang Hai wanted to shoot them all, Bell pulled him back.

American law had clear rules—if the threat was no longer imminent and the person wasn't actively fighting, killing them, even in self-defense, would be considered murder. There were too many police present, and while they didn't openly say it, they weren't aligned with Jiang Hai's intentions. So, Jiang Hai had to restrain himself.

Of course, whether these attackers would survive once in custody depended entirely on Jiang Hai's mood.

With the battle over, Jiang Hai breathed a sigh of relief. He returned to his manor, where the police from Winthrop had already broken through the roadblocks, arrested most of the attackers, and were clearing the remaining vehicles.

As the police took away the surrendered attackers, they began to secure the manor.

A total of 46 people had invaded Jiang Hai's manor. Of those, 41 were dead. Five remained alive, including the man who had let Darlene and the others escape. When Jiang Hai saw him, he realized this was the same big guy he had met in Miami. He had even treated him to a hamburger, though Jiang Hai didn't know why he was involved in this attack.

Still, the big guy had helped Darlene and the others, so Jiang Hai couldn't let him suffer. He arranged for the helicopter to take him to a hospital in Boston, with the Boston police accompanying him.

The other four survivors weren't so fortunate. After basic treatment from the ambulance, they were taken straight to the Winthrop Police Station, where their human rights and freedoms no longer mattered.

Attacking someone's home with guns was a serious crime. If their wounds weren't fatal, they'd simply have to wait.

The focus was on what had to be done, and with the attack on Jiang Hai's estate finally resolved, the authorities turned their attention to the situation in Boston. The police quickly moved to seal off the area where Billy Valen was hiding, determined not to let him escape. Evidence had to be gathered, and he had to be arrested.

With his manor temporarily uninhabitable, Jiang Hai arranged for everyone to stay in the small villa where Aphra and the others were, and they spent the night there.

Jiang Hai, meanwhile, took Moses Adams to the Winthrop Police Station. Azarina, who had made a significant contribution, was not detained. Jiang Hai didn't restrict her movement; she was free to leave if she wished. However, it seemed she wasn't inclined to go.

After spending the night at the station, Jiang Hai's treatment was much different from the others. While the others endured a harsh night, Jiang Hai was allowed to rest in an office after giving a brief statement. Though he only slept on a sofa, it was far more comfortable than anything the other detainees experienced. Moses Adams, who had accompanied him, barely managed three hours of sleep.

With so much on his plate, Jiang Hai assigned Moses the task of handling various matters—inventory, interrogation notes, and investigating the attackers. In Boston, Jiang Hai had to handle things on his own. If people left him alone, he wouldn't bother them, but if they crossed him, he would make them pay—no exceptions.

When Moses Adams delivered the information the next day, Jiang Hai couldn't help but frown. The aftermath was just beginning.