Silent gunshot

page views:1 Publication date:2023-07-02

It was just another routine job.

This was the biggest deal I'd made in two years, a windfall that would provide enough for me to
live in Canada for the rest of my life.

8:09 PM, Asia Hotel, Level 2, Area A, underground parking garage.

As with every overseas trip in the past 20 years, Wu Zihua, hailed on television as the world's youngest and most capable
leader walked slowly out of his room, his shoes gleaming and his suit impeccably tailored.

As everyone says, he is an extremely handsome and dashing man. Even now, nearing 50, he remains
a heartthrob for many women, especially young women. His bodyguards, who surrounded him like magnets,
were also impeccably dressed, burly, and handsome.

What the average person doesn't see is that beneath these fully armed bodyguards' suits are thick Kevlar bulletproof vests
and two lightweight Glock 18 pistols.

Don't underestimate these lightweight "toy pistols"; equipped with 76-round drum magazines (yes, the Glock 18
automatic version can carry drum magazines), firing two guns simultaneously provides close-range firepower comparable to a submachine gun.

Moreover, these men are elite marksmen with impeccable accuracy; each one has undergone training at the International Hunter
School .

On one occasion, when Wu was attending a conference in Sri Lanka, a LTTE (Tibetan Tigers of Tamil Eelam)
assault soldier . Of course, before he could pull the trigger of his AK-47, the bodyguards had already fired at least 40 rounds,
almost all hitting their targets within 20 meters.

Finally, this man had at least 100 bullet holes in his body; his chest was a mangled mess, and his thoracic vertebrae were
deformed and protruding. His hand, with several missing fingers, still gripped a deformed, smoking AK-47.

No one dared to mess with Wu Zihua,

at least not within 100 meters.

So, while I was in the underground parking garage, I prepared a special gift for him: a Steyr Scout, equipped with 7.62mm
tungsten-core armor-piercing rounds. These rounds were originally designed for lightly armored vehicles, so even 30mm of bulletproof
glass was easily dealt with.

I didn't need to risk climbing to the 24th floor like James Bond to investigate Wu's movements, nor did I need to set up a telescope several kilometers away like
Ethan Hunt to spy on his indoor "activities." In the information age, all I
needed was a smartphone to easily track his whereabouts.

Using a worm virus designed by my old friend, I can upload it to the hotel server at any time, retrieve
the images I need, and then use the automated facial recognition system to track Wu's movements
.

20:15, Asia Grand Hotel, 24th floor, 2401, British-style luxury suite. The legendary

most luxurious suite in all of Vietnam.

The thermal imaging showed the room was empty, but the Vietnamese seem to be inept at electronic security;
it took me less than 3 seconds to crack the door's code, much simpler than I imagined.

Wu's suite has a giant floor-to-ceiling window facing north, directly opposite the Maritime International Conference Hall. Two hours later
, Wu will meet with Le Min in the fully transparent arched glass conference hall on the top floor of the conference hall.

Actually, I could easily rent a room facing the sea myself, so I wouldn't have to risk sneaking in; however,
my mission is more despicable than it appears.

Wu made several trips to Vietnam and Thailand, seemingly trying to reach some agreement with Vietnam so he could
make things difficult for a certain "rogue state" in the north on some issues. I'm not interested in politics; I
work , and I do the work for whoever pays the most.

This "rogue state" seemed unwilling to act directly, so it entrusted me, a
shameless and unreliable "international friend," to resolve the issue through certain channels. I
'm not .

I turned on Wu's computer, connected my phone, and the computer displayed an unknown plugin—of course,
it .

So I dialed my friend, who is even more despicable than me, and he immediately remotely
hijacked the computer and began decrypting it.

This process might take 10 minutes, or even an hour, but that would be enough to complete the mission.

So I opened the briefcase and began assembling the rifle in my hand.

Strangely enough, with Vietnam's security so lax, I even felt that installing lead plates inside the suitcase
was completely unnecessary.

Just as I was about to install the silencer, the door opened.

In over a decade of perfect security, a door opening almost always meant mission failure.

However, the voice outside suddenly gave me a glimmer of hope.

A delicate female voice said, "Xin chao" (Vietnamese for "hello"),
and I could understand the rest.

For a foreign dignitary visiting a neighboring country, especially a friendly nation rife with corrupt elements, the level of service was
certainly expected.

A quick glance through the peephole revealed a tall, fair-skinned, and delicately beautiful Vietnamese woman wearing
a blue pajamas embroidered with red peonies—a sight that made my blood boil and my heart race.

Indeed, behind every handsome man is a group of alluring beauties.

This silly woman, doesn't she know her sweetheart is already out?

Suddenly, the woman pulled out a key card, swiped it, and in that less than a second,
I grabbed her without hesitation and pulled her inside.

The woman wasn't used to the darkness. To her, it was like being sucked into an endless
vortex , followed by a sharp pain in her forehead, and then complete unconsciousness.

In less than three seconds, she disappeared behind the door, which slammed shut behind it.

I stared at the deformed silencer in my hand, feeling utterly frustrated.

The young, beautiful Vietnamese woman was unconscious, a swollen patch on her forehead, yet her beauty wasn't diminished by
this imperfection.

Most people would have probably already violated her many times, but I couldn't leave any evidence for my desires.

However, for someone who had been celibate since puberty, this was a cruel and terrifying
temptation .

So, I couldn't resist reaching my wicked hand between her legs.

The girl sighed softly, and the erotic scene intoxicated me for a moment, even making me forget about
the silencer.

However, the girl's kicking told me she was about to wake up.

So I took two towels and wrapped them around her hands and feet, then stuffed a towel into her
mouth .

Those full, red lips seemed like melted wax; I couldn't even imagine
what it would feel like to kiss them. The girl's mouth exuded the distinctive scent of betel nut, and her pale yellow, natural teeth, like glutinous rice, had a
youthful yet sexy quality.

I gently pulled down the girl's lace panties, my heart pounding wildly. I'd seen this kind of scene in movies
before , even when assassins died doing it, but when it happened to me
, I was speechless with excitement, even though it was a girl who had suffered a concussion.

The girl's genitals were pink and tender, and I couldn't wait to insert my index finger into her secret garden.

Of course, I was wearing gloves.

However, to my disappointment, the girl's secret garden had no barriers; I don't know which little
rascal got there first.

But judging from the color and tightness, this girl probably didn't have much experience.

The girl woke up, looking at me with terrified eyes, a pitiful look in her eyes.

I'm sorry, but I won't let anyone who saw me leave alive. Even if my operation fails,
anyone suspected of seeing me will be killed, even children.

For you, this age isn't the youngest I've ever killed.

On the bright side, your beauty will forever remain in your twenties.

As my fingers thrust in and out, the girl writhed, her expression
a mixture could turn a normally developing, docile person into a beast, even a woman would become aroused. But my professional
instincts prevented me from crossing that invisible line.

Since the prey had come to me, why not enjoy it in another way? At that moment, I suddenly remembered
something.

So I threw the girl onto the bed, which faced due east, and positioned her head towards the window
.

The girl was very light, about 156cm tall, probably only around 80 pounds.

The girl watched in terror as I picked up the sniper rifle and walked to her feet.

Since I couldn't have my way, I'd let my brother have his.

So I used my index and middle fingers to separate the girl's labia, and with a little force, easily slid the rifle barrel
into her vagina.

The girl let out a soft "Ah!"

Because her mouth was stuffed with cloth, all I could hear were moans and groans. Of course, this volume couldn't possibly
penetrate the thick wooden door of the presidential suite. These well-insulated rooms were designed to even mask the sound of firecrackers.
With the girl's vagina encased, the gunshots shouldn't attract the attention of those downstairs.

I thrust in and out of the gun, watching the girl twist and turn, performing a strange dance on the bed.

The conference room in the distance was already full of people, and the girl hadn't yet displayed any of the climax
scenes , which surprised me. I realized how incredibly resilient women were.

The girl's fluids flowed down the barrel to the trigger.

I didn't know if the fluids had seeped into the barrel or corroded it. I looked
through ; the view was good. The girl was thin; her belly didn't obstruct the scope's view. The scent of her fluids combined with
the comfortable feel of the stock made my heart race. My lower body stiffened; the feeling was both pleasurable and uncomfortable.

However, the girl's twisting and turning made it impossible for me to aim.

So I decided to finish her off first.

I increased the force of my thrusts, and the girl began to dance wildly—a frenzied,
beautiful dance before death. Perhaps she sensed her time was running out, or perhaps she was truly exhausted from struggling. Stimulated by the strange sensation in her vagina
, her whole body convulsed!

Her vagina gripped the barrel so tightly that I could feel it trying to wrest the sniper rifle from my hand.

So I inserted the rifle to its deepest point, perhaps pressing against her cervix, rotating it gently,
stimulating the woman's most sensitive spot.

This spot was about to receive several rounds of bullets. The girl arched her body, letting out a comfortable
"ah," her eyes rolled back, and a blissful smile, as if she were experiencing the unique ecstasy of orgasm, appeared on her lips.
Without hesitation pulled the trigger.

The sound was soft, like a forceful clapping, or perhaps like popping champagne.

"Bang!"

The girl's eyes widened suddenly, as if she couldn't believe I would actually do something so horrific. Her belly swelled up
high , like an inflated balloon, and her lower abdomen, like a lit lantern, flashed,
illuminating the ceiling!

That was the flash of gunfire deep within her vagina, and at the same time, a
3-centimeter-diameter hole suddenly appeared in her upper abdomen below her sternum!

Armor-piercing bullets don't tumble inside the body, so the exit wasn't as horrific as a lead bullet. The bullet
pierced the floor-to-ceiling glass with a relatively soft sound. The girl let out a soft "humph," seemingly
a complex sensation of pain and pleasure, before falling silent.

The girl stopped struggling, her head tilted to the right, and yellow urine seeped from the gap between her vagina and the barrel.
The heat of the barrel caused the urine to emit wisps of white smoke. She continued to moan softly. Perhaps modern medicine could still
save this girl.

But having lost her most vital part, even if she were saved, it would be a fate worse than death. I felt the girl's vagina
begin to relax ,

yet it remained tightly pressed against the barrel, as if her vagina was born to tightly envelop the
most fatal part of this deadly weapon. Extreme softness and extreme lethality created a perfectly harmonious scene.

So I pulled the bolt, loaded a bullet, and without the girl's struggle, aiming became much easier.

The bullet pierced her internal organs and ruptured part of her lumbar vertebrae. Now, the only separation between the gun barrel and the target was the peritoneum, several sections
of intestine, the abdominal wall, and two windows.

I aimed at Wu's head and pulled the trigger again. The girl's lifeless body suddenly seemed to come alive
, twitching slightly. Her vaginal opening and perineum seemed to have been struck hard, caved forward slightly along the gun barrel,
but quickly returned to their original shape.

The bullet exited from the girl's right side, piercing through the two panes of glass in less than 0.3 seconds, and traveled 325 meters
before striking Wu's brainstem.

Deprived of basic reflexes, Wu collapsed like a sack of potatoes. The surrounding bodyguards instinctively
drew , searching for the impossible killer.

I pulled the bolt again and began shooting Wu's bodyguards.

Everyone present was terrified and at a loss, because no one knew where these bullets had come from.

Despite wearing a bulletproof vest, the bullets were like knife tips and cardboard to her.

With each muffled thud, the girl would jump, her perineum would indent and then return to its original
shape, and her abdomen would flash like a lantern!

After four shots, wisps of blue smoke rose from her vaginal opening, and her internal organs had begun to char under the intense heat.

The uterus, which should have been nurturing new life, had been reduced to a pulp by the first two shots
, scattering into the pelvic cavity. The right ovary had been ruptured, blood gushing from the vaginal opening, so much so that subsequent shots were strewn
with blood .

The venue was in chaos. In those less than 30 seconds, something unexpected happened:
the surviving bodyguard fired blindly, killing several South Asian officials.

After the eighth shot, Wu and his bodyguards were all sent to hell. I observed carefully;
the bodyguard who had been firing wildly had also killed four other officials present.

Mission accomplished, I pulled the rifle out of the girl's vagina, the barrel tip carrying a piece of
ripe uterine fragment.

The girl's face was still beautiful, but her right abdomen was riddled with five bloody holes, each
emitting smoke, two bullets having exited from the same opening.

The girl's vagina had lost its elasticity, still retaining the shape of the gun barrel inserted. If you
looked into her vaginal opening, you could see the conference room more than 300 meters away through the pierced internal organs.

Her labia minora were charred black from the heat of the gun barrel, not a natural black.

Blood gushed out, staining most of the bed red.

This incredibly erotic scene was enough to make any man's heart race; the charred and blackened genitals
possessed a kind of brutal beauty.

I suddenly remembered why those American soldiers in Vietnam had lost their humanity. Beautiful things
can always arouse everyone's destructive desires; it's a kind of bestiality, existing in every human gene.

The more beautiful things are destroyed, the more thoroughly another person becomes a monster.

My reason stopped the next sadistic act in my mind, because I had already
pulled out the loaded Desert Eagle pistol. Next, I might have continued shooting at her already ravaged genitals until
I ran out of bullets.

But I couldn't, so I held the empty gun to her genitals, letting the blood stain the barrel.

The laptop made a whirring sound, but the screen was a black hole. I knew it was
the sound of the hard drive being formatted after the data was stolen. Maps of important military facilities in Myanmar had already been sent to some rogue nation.

I packed up all my equipment and left this bloody slaughterhouse.

How I wished my next mission would be to assassinate a young woman.

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