BOOM!
The explosion of a hand grenade shook the entire hotel, startling everyone inside.
In his suite, sipping red wine, Killian jolted to his feet in panic.
"F*ck! What the hell is going on?!"
He grabbed the walkie-talkie and shouted into it.
On the other end, in the surveillance room, a guard responded in terror:
"Boss, it's Ryan! He's attacking us indiscriminately!"
"F*CK!!"
The walkie-talkie slipped from Killian's hand and clattered to the floor.
He never expected that after leaking the cargo ship intel to Ryan, Ryan would act immediately—alone!
Killian had assumed DHS would use the intel to surround and raid them, which was all part of his plan.
He had already funneled the organization's funds into his personal offshore accounts. He was waiting for DHS to take out his crew while he escaped through the sewer tunnel, faking his death.
Then he'd disappear, start a new life in some peaceful little country.
But Ryan?
Ryan struck first. Alone.
"Sh*t! Doesn't he realize he's in a terrorist stronghold?"
"Doesn't he know we have over a hundred armed members here?!"
"He's only one man! Where does he get the audacity?!"
Killian couldn't believe it.
Sure, Ryan wiped out an ISIS group, but this was Prometheus—a completely different level.
Every Prometheus member was a hardcore sociopath, a violent extremist, or a battle-hardened killer.
But Ryan? His courage was just as terrifying as his strength.
He had dared to single-handedly wage war on a terrorist army!
"Counterattack! Everyone, fight back!!"
"Open the armories! Shoot that motherf***er DEAD!!"
Furious, Killian barked orders through the walkie-talkie, fuming at the insult Ryan had delivered.
"You think we're just some low-level gang like ISIS?! You picked the wrong f***ing enemy!"
He flung open his closet, threw on a bulletproof vest, and armed himself with an AA-12 automatic shotgun—fully loaded.
The 20-round drum magazine could unleash a full barrage in under 4 seconds. A true bringer of equal destruction.
Killian's eyes burned with rage. This was personal.
Meanwhile, Ryan roamed the halls with his fully-equipped HK416, spare magazines in his storage space.
His gun-fu mastery let him reload at the exact moment his last bullet fired—no time wasted.
The 5.56 rounds punched cleanly through armor, aiming for exposed necks, faces, and limbs.
Anyone dumb enough to fire blindly from behind a door?
BOOM—a bullet to the wrist.
Then a grenade into the room for good measure.
The hotel had five floors above ground and a basement. The entire building was only 48 meters long.
Ryan had already used a Detection Card, seeing every corner—even hidden escape tunnels.
No need for a jammer—he was legally eliminating terrorists.
Outside, the chaos had triggered police calls.
But when LAPD patrol cars arrived and heard the explosions, they refused to enter—instead hunkering down behind cruisers, calling for SWAT.
Ryan started on the east end of the 3rd floor, sweeping to the west.
Then he cornered the stairwells, killing any terrorists attempting to descend from the 4th and 5th floors.
"F*ck! There's only ONE of him! How is he this strong?!"
"They're all dead! Everyone we sent is DEAD!"
"SH*T! His bullets are curving?!"
"Dear God! Rock was behind a wall and STILL got headshot!"
"He's a DEMON! He's not human!!"
Panic swept the building.
Killian crouched near his room door on the 2nd floor, hearing the screams of his people.
He was stunned.
"F*ck! SHUT UP, all of you!"
"Curving bullets?! What is this, a f***ing Angelina Jolie movie?!"
"He's just one guy! Shoot him like anyone else!"
"Attack, damn it!!"
He stormed out into the hallway, yelling at the cowards clustered behind corners.
Ryan frowned at the deadlock. No one was pushing forward.
So he jumped into a nearby room, climbed out the window, and scaled up to the 4th floor from outside.
No need to peek—he knew where every enemy was.
Two grenades. Pins pulled with his teeth. Timed perfectly.
TOSS!
BOOM!
The 4th floor—cleared.
Same method. 5th floor—cleared.
"Boss! He just climbed up from outside and blew everyone up!"
"The 4th and 5th floors are gone!"
In the surveillance room, a trembling terrorist screamed into the walkie-talkie.
Even Killian was starting to lose it.
He thought he could outplay DHS.
Instead, one man—just Ryan—was annihilating his entire crew.