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Starting the SCP Foundation from Gotham City
Ch. 46 / 150
30.7%
#4641. Blood
"Hey! Big Cat, weren't you supposed to be guarding the gate? How did you get in here too!"
Under the warm light, the members of the baseball boys were all reeking of alcohol, their faces flushed from drinking. One of them, a guy with a buzz cut, took a big gulp of rum and saw that the big cat, who was supposed to be guarding the door, had actually appeared in the room. He was surprised and said something.
However, the big cat he was talking about completely ignored him and instead walked step by step, and walked very woodenly, just like a puppet on a string.
The baseball boy gang members were all drunk and didn't notice the situation. They were very relaxed and assumed that Big Cat didn't want to endure the cold wind and wanted to come in for a few more drinks.
Immediately, someone teased, "What's wrong? Big Cat, why can't you hold back? We know you're craving alcohol. Come on, come over and have a couple of drinks. I'll play this game with you."
The speaker was a middle-aged white man with many tattoos all over his body, including his face. He took out a sieve and spoke to the large cat that was standing still.
"What's wrong, Big Cat? Why are you suddenly ignoring us? Come on over here and have a few drinks with us. Sigh, even though the boss sent you out to guard the gate, you don't have to be so sullen, do you? Come on, have a few drinks."
The man stood up, holding a glass of wine, seemingly wanting to toast Big Cat. However, perhaps he had drunk too much, as he was in very poor spirits, walking unsteadily, and half of the wine in his glass had already spilled out.
This scene was immediately witnessed and laughed at by several other gang members.
"Oh dear, Jones, you're really no good. You stagger around even when you're walking. It seems your alcohol tolerance is as low as your courage."
The others started teasing him, which made Jones' face turn red and his blood rush to his head. He seemed to want to refute something, so he turned around, but he used too much force and fell over.
This scene caused the dozen or so gang members on this floor to burst into laughter. The laughter was so grating that Jones's face turned as red as a shrimp, all the way to his ears.
"You're talking nonsense. I, Jones, am quite bold, and my alcohol tolerance is terrifying. I'm definitely better than all of you. If you're not convinced, come and fight me."
Jones got up from the ground and said unwillingly, but judging from the smiles on the faces of the other gang members, they obviously didn't take Jones's words to heart.
The atmosphere on this floor suddenly became even more lively. Everyone laughed and took big gulps of rum every now and then. Only one person was quite the exception, and seemed out of place in this atmosphere.
That was the big cat that came in from outside. Even though they were drunk, they were still quite surprised to see the big cat standing motionless in the same spot since it came in.
What's wrong with this kid? Why isn't he coming over to drink with them?
This kid usually loves to drink, he's practically a heavy drinker and can drink more than any of them.
What's wrong with you today? Have you changed your personality?
Jones sobered up a bit and remembered what he had been doing. He quickly poured himself another glass of wine, this time seemingly to prove that he wasn't drunk at all. He held the glass and walked seriously toward the big cat.
"Come drink with me, Big Cat. It's your favorite discounted rum. If you don't drink, you're definitely not giving me face. Let's see who drinks more tonight, okay?"
Jones laughed and said that they were getting closer and closer to the big cat, then handed over the rum in his hand.
To Jones's surprise, the big cat didn't take it. Instead, it stood there blankly with its head down. Even if Jones was slow to notice, he noticed something was wrong and watched the big cat's every move with curiosity.
"Hey, what's wrong with you? I asked you to drink, but you wouldn't. And you've gotten so temperamental that you won't even accept my drinks anymore."
Jones remained unperturbed, laughing and scolding. Suddenly, he noticed something behind the big cat, which piqued his curiosity. Even though the world was blurry in his vision, it didn't stop him from curiously looking to see what was behind the big cat.
He slowly walked towards the big cat's back, while the others continued drinking their own beverages. Nothing was more precious to them than the rum in their hands; it was the source of their happiness.
Suddenly, just as he was about to see what was behind the big cat, the big cat's sturdy and massive body fell down on him, pressing him to the ground due to its weight.
Just as he was about to lash out in dissatisfaction, a bright silver-white light flashed in his vision. It was another burly figure, looking at him expressionlessly, his tactical dagger slicing across his throat.
"you..."
With a splatter, red and white substances gushed out. Jones clutched his neck, trying to say something, but he couldn't utter a sound. His throat had been slashed, and his trachea had been cut to pieces. He could only make a hissing sound like a broken airbox. Soon, he died unwillingly.
This scene stunned many gang members for two or three seconds before they reacted. Alcohol numbed their minds, and just as they were about to pull out their guns and aim them at these uninvited guests, Number Two had already taken out a pistol, aimed it at a gang member who was about to fire a bullet, and fired directly.
Bang!
The silenced pistol accurately blew the bullet between the eyebrows, and the lifeless body collapsed to the ground, dead beyond any doubt!
"There are enemies! Everyone be on alert and tell the leader to provide support."
A quick-thinking gang member prepared to run upstairs to warn the baseball boys upstairs.
Unfortunately, his idea was beautiful, but reality was harsh. A bullet struck him directly in the back of the head, taking his life.
This was the shot fired by number three. Apart from number one who was outside dealing with the stragglers, the remaining four members of the Special Reserve Team came to this three-story extended building. Their second assessment mission was to eliminate all the baseball boys members occupying the Blue District and reclaim the territory belonging to the SCP Foundation.
"Proceed according to plan."
Three members of the special reserve team began their killing spree on the first floor, using the most rational methods to determine the quickest and most convenient way to eliminate these guys!
Blood quickly filled the floor. After the last gang member was killed by Number Two, the floor was littered with corpses. The three of them set their sights on the upper floor, on the third floor, where David, the baseball boy's second-in-command, was resting.
Number Five is responsible for dealing with the enemies on the second floor. Compared to the first floor, there are far fewer people on the second floor, and most of them are of some status.
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Ch. 46 / 150
30.7%
Ch. 46 / 150
30.7%
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