The gunshot tore through the store. Glass shattered, items tumbled from shelves, and screams erupted. Customers scrambled, pushing and tripping over each other, diving for cover behind counters or under displays. Some froze, some ducked, some clawed at doors.
Behind a fallen rack, the MC stayed low, every muscle screaming with pain and stiffness.More than Ten men in tactical gear moved in, precise and confident.
The leader barked: "He's injured — don't let him escape!" They fanned out, sweeping the aisles.
As one of the attackers move into the aisle his boot scraped a fallen shelf. A can rolled from above. Then, without warning, the first attacker was slammed by unknown person, a cloth was wrapped around his neck. He thrashed, blind, fumbling — the MC had come from nowhere. Every grip, every twist, every motion was instantaneous, impossible. Muscles burned, adrenaline screaming, but he forced the attacker down. Minutes passed. Finally, the man went limp. The MC tried to take the weapon but before he could a heared a sound coming from the direction the down attacker came from. No time to waste he dashed away.
Another attacker stepped near the downed man, checking him and speaking into a walkie-talkie. The MC had already vanished, slipping silently between aisles, calculating, careful with each movement.
At another point in the store one of The attacker fumbled with a rifle, scanning corners. Out of nowhere, the MC struck. He slammed into the man, absorbing two knees into his stomach while still gripping him. Using the attacker's momentum, he executed a judo throw. The man hit the floor hard, rifle skidding free. The MC seized it and fired. The noise drew more attackers, but confusion and hesitation slowed them.
He checked the gun — empty, looks like this was one of the guys who was shot at him when the attackers first came into the store. Because its suicidal to go to war when have only one bullet in your gun, unless you can win the war with one shot.
Not wasting time He left it and moved through the aisles, weaving between debris, shadows stretching across the floor from sunlight through broken windows. The leader shouted in frustration: "How is he taking you down?! Sweep the store! Shoot anything you see!"
Gunfire cracked. The MC ducked behind shelves, moving fluidly, each step measured, dodging bullets, dragging bodies when necessary. Reflections in glass coolers revealed positions. One attacker spotted a shadow, pointing, and the others converged.
He struck again. Out of nowhere, he appeared behind a third attacker, neutralizing him in a flurry of precise, silent movements. Every takedown took time — struggle, balance, shifting weight, leveraging the environment.
Eventually, he was cornered. The attackers' net had closed. There was nowhere left to run. They laughed, certain it was over.
The MC drew a pistol, this was the pistol that revealed his current location forcing him to be concerned. He found it on one of the attacker he had taken down, he has been trying to get a gun since the beginning of this chaos.
Now the only time he got one his position was revealed.
F*****ck !!!
Chest heaving, He took a deep breath aiming at a random angle.
He Shot...
.
.
.
The bullet ricocheted off a shelf, striking the leader in the leg causing him to let a painful scream. This broke the attackers concentration and formation, causing them look away. Big mistake
From cover, the MC stepped forward, pistol leveled. No hesitation. No sound but the ringing of the ricochet.
"Got you!"
Bullets tore through shelves, scattering the attackers further. Men ran, ducked, hid. The hunters had become the hunted.