"Fuck!"
When Bi Fang heard the sound of footsteps, his expression tightened. Before he could run away, gunfire rained down like a storm at the entrance of the alley, bright trajectories intertwining into a net, leaving no doubt that anyone rushing in would be shot into a pile of mush.
Accompanied by screams and curses, the previously skeptical audience was utterly convinced. They had indeed stumbled into a local conflict.
When they looked back at the helicopter, it was already gone without a trace.
The pilot had even intentionally gained altitude, visually assessing to have risen at least 300 meters, escaping the range of RPGs.
What a joke, the enemy had RPGs. If the helicopter rushed in, and bad luck struck, the outcome would be certain death.
Delivering a "tourist" was all that was needed; his life or death was of no concern, especially since that's what he had come for, right?
