Chapter 202

The factory was dead quiet. Eight guys lounged on old machine benches, playing cards, breath steaming in the cold air as they cursed and bantered. When Connor walked in, one of them grinned. "Looks like mission accomplished? Why the long face, man?" "Yeah, don't tell me that chick gave you trouble?" "What about Tom and Jerry?" Connor smiled lightly. "They're worn out." The group burst into laughter. "Died under a woman, huh? Not a bad way to go!" "Damn, now I kinda wanna try that too." "No need." Connor stubbed out his cigarette. "You're not getting the chance." He raised his gun and pulled the trigger. None of the eight even got a chance to react—each was shot clean in the head. Tristan stepped out. "You really don't hold back." "I've got too many deaths on me already, a few more won't matter. But you... you're still legit. Don't dirty your hands." Just then, Tristan aimed quickly to his left—bang. The man hiding behind the door dropped, gun still in hand. "You gave me this pistol. Ju