radicalducati Chapter 121 An Island Even More Disgusting Than the Dark Creatures' Lair
Chapter 121 An Island Even More Disgusting Than the Dark Creatures' Lair
Chapter 121 An Island Even More Disgusting Than the Dark Creatures' Lair
On the sea, the lonely island lies silent in the darkness.
Satellite images show that the island is just an ordinary deserted island covered with dense vegetation, with only the rooftops of two or three buildings faintly visible.
But when Benjamin Lester, with three members of Hellsword's Third Squad, climbed up the cliffs on the back of the island and landed on the last reef, they discovered that what they saw was completely different from the satellite images.
This is not some deserted island.
The ring road around the island is so smooth that small planes can take off and land there, and rows of modern villas stand nestled among coconut palms.
In the distance, there are tall buildings, a water park, and several yachts moored at a private dock, gently rocking with the waves.
The pool lights shone from the estate halfway up the mountain, illuminating half of the hillside.
From any angle, it looks like a meticulously maintained private resort.
Lester spoke in a low voice, just loud enough for the three team members to hear: "The boss told us to make the judgments we need, and I'm giving you the same advice."
"Once inside, how to proceed—whether to capture, kill, or escape—is up to you."
The three nodded, and no one said anything more.
The four men crept along the outer wall of the manor.
Strangely, the room was brightly lit, and music mixed with party noise kept pouring in from the direction of the pool.
However, there were no guards or patrols around the perimeter, and not even the most basic surveillance cameras were installed.
These builders made no attempt to conceal their sense of security.
They found a secluded corner where the lights didn't reach, climbed over the wall, and landed silently on the lawn inside the manor.
The grass underfoot was trimmed so short and dense that it left almost no footprints when stepped on.
The four men crept along the shadows of the buildings toward the direction of the loudest noise, and no one noticed them along the way.
Passing through a row of palm trees, a panoramic view of the pool party comes into view.
They both stopped breathing.
Wine glasses and plates were scattered haphazardly by the pool, and music was still playing.
The voice of a washed-up pop singer was repeating the same cheesy chorus over and over again from a giant speaker.
Several pieces of clothing, thrown down by someone, were floating on the water.
On the lawn, beside the lounge chairs, on the pool steps—those scenes defy description.
A very faint click came from behind Lester.
The dull thud that bones make when they are under tremendous pressure.
He turned his head slightly, and a teammate behind him clenched his fist.
His knuckles were so clenched that his skin had completely lost its color; the crisp sound just now came from his palm.
The other team member's lips were moving silently, and it was unclear what he was saying.
The third team member simply stared straight ahead, his face blank with an expression that defied description.
Lester turned his gaze back to the party by the pool.
He remained silent for a long time before speaking, his voice barely audible.
"What do you think we should do?"
The team member who clenched his fist spoke in a voice that sounded like sandpaper scraping against his throat: "That guy—the one who talks about how many children he's saved in the news every day? He's more disgusting than the worst poisonous insect in Hell's Kitchen."
Another team member took over.
His voice trembled, radiating barely suppressed murderous intent: "And I even watched every single one of his movies, you bastard."
The third person said the final sentence: "These guys can't even be called human. Even vampires are more pleasing to the eye—at least vampires drink blood to survive, what about them?"
After listening to everyone's answers, Lester remained silent for two seconds.
Then he nodded, his voice still steady, but each word was sharp and angular, as if it had been sliced by a knife.
"Since that's the case, you should all understand, except for the victims—"
"Everyone on the island is a dark creature, not human, understand?"
"Yes!" Three responses were squeezed out of their throats at the same time.
Lester immediately began assigning tasks: "You three spread out and get to the port in ten minutes. Destroy all the ships docked there."
"I will not allow any dark creature to leave this island alive."
The three turned and disappeared into the shadows of the palm grove.
Leicester didn't look any further in the direction of the pool.
He leaned back against the tree, closed his eyes, forced his breathing, and returned to the rhythm a sniper should have.
But his ears wouldn't obey him.
The children's voices kept drilling into my eardrums.
He endured for a minute, opened his eyes, drew his two pistols from his waist, and stepped out of the shadows.
The music was still playing, and the chorus of that washed-up singer was still looping.
Lester stood under the poolside lights and shouted, "You creatures of darkness—die!"
Bang bang bang.
Gunshots rang out over the island and traveled far across the sea.
The three squad members who were running towards the port heard the gunshot, but instead of turning around or slowing down, they quickened their pace.
Everyone knows why Leicester acted ahead of time.
By the pool, a portly old man with completely white hair was lounging on a deck chair, holding a wine glass.
The moment the gunshot rang out, he tried to get up, shouting in a commanding tone, "Who are you? Which unit are you from?"
"Do you know who I am?! I'm going to make your boss—"
boom!
He hadn't finished speaking.
His head exploded into a cloud of bone fragments and blood mist.
The magazines of both guns were emptied in a very short time.
The poolside erupted in chaos.
Screams, the sound of shattering glass, and the screams of someone stepping on broken bottles with bare feet were all mixed together.
But the victims simply sat quietly in place, their expressions dazed and numb, showing no reaction to the gunshots.
They had become accustomed to fear, accustomed to pain, accustomed to everything they shouldn't have become accustomed to.
Lester walked over to a blonde girl and knelt down.
He tore a clean tablecloth from the table next to him and gently wrapped it around her shoulders. His movements were very slow, and his voice was very soft: "It's okay, I will definitely take you away from here."
The girl slightly raised her head; her golden hair, which had been haphazardly cut, was scattered on both sides of her face at varying lengths.
Her pupils held no light, only a dry, lifeless stillness, and she looked at Lester no differently than she looked at the perpetrators.
She trusts no one and expects nothing.
It took all the courage I had in my life to be able to stand up again.
Lester said nothing more.
He holstered his two pistols in the holsters on his thighs, drew the automatic rifle from his back, pushed open the door, and entered the villa.
Every time he opened a door, he saw a scene even more gruesome than hyenas tearing apart their prey in the African wilderness.
He thought he had become immune to many things after coming down from the battlefield.
He had seen his comrades blown apart by landmines, civilians caught in the middle of the fighting, and too many deaths that should never have happened.
He also knew that he had a problem in his heart, which is why he kept searching for what justice is.
He was just always confused.
It wasn't until I followed Li En, handled many things, and saved many people that I slowly began to have some feelings about it.
He was now absolutely certain that the thing that could do these things didn't deserve to be called a human being.
Even the creatures of darkness are cleaner than these beasts.
After clearing one floor, he put down the automatic rifle as well.
I could hear the sounds of bolts being pulled and magazines being slammed into chambers upstairs; there were quite a few people there.
Their firepower is nowhere near the level of those panicked guys by the pool earlier.
But he doesn't plan to change the magazine.
He walked to the table next to him and swept all the cutlery, candlesticks, metal plates, and broken glass into his hands.
He inserted the pieces one by one into the gaps in the tactical belt until the belt was completely stuffed.
Then he grabbed a knife in each hand and walked toward the stairs.
At the corner of the stairs, two naked men were aiming down at their shotguns.
One of his faces appears on the posters of every Hollywood action movie that markets itself as a tough, masculine character.
A top action star in the public eye, his social media accounts are full of fitness, family, and inspirational quotes.
At that moment, he spread his legs, held the shotgun to his waist, and pulled the trigger sharply in Lester's direction.
With a loud bang, half of the stair railing was smashed by the shot, and wood fragments flew everywhere.
Lester leaned against the corner wall, fine wood shavings brushing against his cheek, but he didn't wipe them away.
The action star roared as he reloaded his weapon, his voice completely different from when he waved to fans at the movie premiere: "I've killed way too many of you! Do you even know how many?!"
The second shot of the buckshot turned the corner wall into a honeycomb.
Lester observed the height of the ceiling and the angle at which the corner tiles bounced off, but instead of leaning out, he simply flicked his wrist.
The knife was flung out, its blade tracing a precise arc in mid-air before hitting the corner of the wall, bouncing off, and with a soft thud, piercing the action star's right eye socket.
The action star let out an extremely unpleasant wail, the shotgun slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, he covered his face with both hands with the knife stuck in his face, and fumbled around for the gun barrel.
Meanwhile, another face that frequently appears in political news emerged from above the stairs.
The man was holding an automatic rifle. He pulled the trigger all the way down, and bullets rained down on the stairwell as he swept and shouted!
"Who do you think you are?! Do you even know what you're doing?!"
Lester pulled a fork from his belt.
The same method.
Throw it out, hit the wall, bounce back.
The tip of the fork pierced the politician's right eye with pinpoint accuracy.
The two men rolled on the ground at the same time, one covering his face with a knife, the other with a fork.
Lester then emerged from around the corner, stepped onto the stairs, and walked step by step toward the two men.
Upon hearing footsteps, the action star, without even drawing his knife, shouted, "I have money! I have tons of money! You can have as much as you want!"
The politician next to him immediately echoed, his voice shrill and cracking: "Don't kill me! We'll discuss anything! Anything is fine!"
Lester silently pulled a serrated steak knife from his waist, squatted down, and slashed the carotid arteries of both men.
Then he stood up, without looking back, and walked deeper into the villa.
He will not allow any dark creature to leave this island alive today.
port.
When the three team members arrived, someone was already starting the cargo ship.
The deep roar of the engine drowned out the sound of waves crashing against the dock, and black smoke was billowing from the chimney above the engine room.
Without discussing or seeking cover, the three of them simultaneously lowered their center of gravity and charged straight ahead, braving the hail of bullets raining down from the deck.
The bullets struck the bulletproof vests with a dull thud, and one grazed the calf of the first team member.
He didn't look down, and he didn't slow down.
They completely destroyed every moving part of the engine room and rudder of all the ships moored in the harbor.
On the way back, the man at the front was shot several times on the deck.
While leaning against a container at the dock to stop the bleeding, he pulled a bandage from his first-aid kit and pressed it against his wound with one hand.
He glanced down at the depth of the wound and said calmly, "It's not a big problem, I won't die."
The three men concealed the traces of the battlefield and turned on all the lights on the ships in the harbor.
The intense light spread out from the dock, illuminating the entire nearshore sea as if it were daytime.
They lay prone on the edge of the top deck of the cargo ship, setting up their sniper rifles.
They pointed their guns at the only road leading to the port and waited silently.
The shadowy figures darting around the island had nowhere to hide under the lights.
That night, only the mournful howls of the beasts echoed through the night sky over the island.