Chapter 130: So What If You Have a Gun?

Jiang Yan’s spatial arsenal was stocked with a pile of flashbangs.

As one of the world’s most famous non-lethal weapons, a flashbang, once thrown into a target area, produces a blinding flash within seconds.

It can temporarily blind its targets, and also emits a deafening noise of 170–200 decibels, causing temporary hearing loss.

But since flashbangs don’t produce shrapnel or cause direct physical harm, they’re typically used in situations like SWAT hostage rescues.

This situation was somewhat similar, but Jiang Yan clearly couldn’t use one.

Ye Qing was right beside her. Even if she could explain pulling out a flashbang, the real issue was that you had to protect your own eyes, ears, nose, and mouth before using it.

Otherwise, you’d hurt yourself almost as much as the enemy.

Jiang Yan decided to rely on brains and brawn instead.

After all, these few punks weren’t worth wasting extra weapons on.

*

In the corridor, Dao Yinping picked up a battered thermos from the floor, then fished out a blister pack of blue pills from his pocket.

He popped one out, tilted his head back, and swallowed it with some water.

“These are for you guys!” He tossed the rest of the blister pack to Huang Mao.

“Thanks, Second Bro!” Huang Mao caught it with both hands, thanking him repeatedly.

He didn’t need them, but since Dao Yinping was giving them out, he didn’t dare refuse.

“Second Bro, taking it now probably won’t do much…” The guy in the beret piped up, trying to be helpful.

He’d taken the pills before—the effects didn’t kick in for half an hour.

“What the hell do you know? This is called long-lasting stamina, get it?!”

Dao Yinping sneered, swaggering over to the table with his belly sticking out and his feet splayed.

Halfway there, he paused, glancing at the woman on the table. He cursed:

“Damn, this is boring! All day long, moping around like a dead pig. Can’t even make a sound or move!”

After venting, a flash of malice crossed Dao Yinping’s eyes. He ordered Huang Mao:

“Zhang Xiaoguang, hand me the tongs, and find something to gag her with!”

Huang Mao nodded obsequiously, picked up the cold metal tongs, and dug a filthy red tank top out of a pile of junk nearby.

He balled it up, strode over to the table, grabbed the woman’s cheeks, and shoved the tank top into her mouth.

The woman knelt there, head drooping.

Other than gagging and retching from the stench and blockage, she showed no sign of resistance or awareness.

“Second Bro, the gun—want me to hold onto it for you?” Huang Mao eyed the backpack with the shotgun, swallowing nervously.

“No need. On the battlefield, you never let go of your gun. Don’t you know that?” Dao Yinping shot him a glare.

Huang Mao shrank back, mumbling, “Got it, I get it now…”

Dao Yinping ignored him, snorted, and walked over to the fire.

He bent down, poked around, and pulled out a glowing red-hot coal with the tongs, grinning wickedly:

“No candles? Then coal will do!”

The woman on the table shivered violently, either from the cold or from understanding his words.

Dao Yinping grinned, waving the coal. “I’m telling you—”

“Stop!”

Before he could finish, a crisp female voice rang out from the fire door.

The four men tensed, spinning around. Their pupils shrank: “Jiang Yan!”

They scrambled to grab their weapons from the floor.

Dao Yinping froze, but when he saw who it was, his face lit up. “Jiang Yan?”

He hadn’t met her before.

But seeing her tall figure and the fierce, captivating eyes above her mask, he guessed who she was.

In the entire A Building, below the 29th floor, every woman who could be rounded up had already been transferred out by their group, except the one on the table.

As for the families still resisting on the 30th and 31st floors, none of them would dare come down alone.

Especially not a woman.

A young, pretty woman.

She always wore a mask, carried a black backpack, and moved alone—her signature look.

Most importantly, Jiang Yan’s hands were empty, and she looked thin and weak. The wariness Dao Yinping had just felt faded.

He tossed the coal and tongs aside with a clang, shoved Huang Mao out of the way, and strode toward Jiang Yan.

“Second Bro, that’s Jiang Yan from the 32nd floor. Careful, she might have a gun!” Huang Mao warned, stepping forward.

They all feared Jiang Yan, so no one dared approach recklessly.

Last time, he and Scarface had barely escaped her gun. Their rule was: don’t mess with her, and you’ll be fine.

Dao Yinping sneered at Jiang Yan:

“A gun? So what if she has a gun? I have a gun too—two, in fact! Ma-ge’s scared of her, but I’m not!

Soon, I’ll let her taste my gun too!” Dao Yinping leered, his face full of filth.

The guys behind him thought he had a point.

Times had changed.

They had guns now, too—shotguns, way more powerful than a pistol.

Supposedly, one shot could kill twenty or thirty ducks!

In a fight, how could a weak woman stand a chance?

Their fear vanished, and they looked Jiang Yan up and down, laughing uproariously.

Standing there, thin and empty-handed, Jiang Yan looked no match for the burly Dao Yinping with his shotgun.

Jiang Yan stood motionless, sneering. “Oh? Let’s see if you live long enough to find out!”

“Feisty, huh? I like that! Stick with me, and I’ll treat you real nice!” Dao Yinping grinned, reaching for her hand.

But before he could touch her, Jiang Yan suddenly stepped back, hand reaching behind her.

At the same time, a shadow half a head taller than Dao Yinping burst through the fire door at lightning speed.

Dao Yinping’s brow furrowed—something was wrong. He quickly stepped back, reaching for the shotgun in his pack.

But Ye Qing had already swung a long leg up, aiming a vicious kick straight at Dao Yinping’s crotch.

He was tall, his legs long, and he was furious. The kick was swift and merciless.

Crack!

Dao Yinping’s balls were shattered in an instant!"