The short guy took a deep drag on his cigar, blew out a smoke ring, and strolled casually toward Ronin.
"CEO of Overwatch Films, screenwriter of Soldier: 76, the producer who shattered the global box office record… Tsk! All those honors, and look at you now—still ended up in my hands."
The dwarf straightened his tie and tapped his head. "Oh, almost forgot—you're also the screenwriter for Winston. Running into trouble on the movie's premiere night… I bet that's pretty annoying, huh?"
Ronin waved the smoke away from his face and smiled faintly. "You really went to a lot of trouble just to kill me, shorty. What a shame… what a shame."
"Who the hell are you calling shorty?!"
The dwarf seemed really sensitive about his height. He instantly lost it, pulling out a knife and waving it in front of Ronin's face. "Call me shorty again and I'll cut your tongue out."
"Then what am I supposed to call you?"
The blade was inches from his face, but Ronin didn't flinch. He had plenty of backup. All this chatting was just to fish for information. If this was all they had, then sorry—not sorry.
"My name is Sammy Walton. You killed my cousin, and now I finally get to avenge him." The dwarf spoke through gritted teeth.
Ronin tilted his head. "Oh, so you're that bald guy's cousin."
"You're the bald one! Your whole family's bald!"
Walton was furious. He wanted to see fear on Ronin's face, but the guy just looked calm and unbothered, like he didn't take him seriously at all.
"Shorty, do you realize your crimes are already out in the open? There are cops all over the place coming to arrest you right now," Ronin said.
Walton roared, "Of course I know! The second Soldier: 76 blew up that mercenary base, I knew I couldn't hide forever. But before they drag me away, I'm definitely killing you to settle the score for my cousin."
"Kill me?" Ronin smirked. "Maybe in your next life."
"I can't kill you?"
Walton let out a loud laugh and waved his arm. All the suited thugs immediately raised their guns and aimed straight at Ronin.
"Who do you think you are? No matter how many awards you've got, you're still just an ordinary guy. One bullet and you're dead. You really think Soldier: 76 is gonna babysit you 24/7?" Walton pulled out a handgun.
"Sorry to disappoint, but Soldier: 76 really will be by my side 24/7!"
The moment the words left his mouth, Ronin did a backward roll. Thomas burst out of the car and planted himself right in front of Ronin like a human shield.
Ratatatatat!
Thomas crossed his arms, turning himself into a living wall and blocking a storm of bullets.
A rocket came screaming in. Thomas took the hit head-on. The suit took heavy damage—the chest plate was charred black and sparking like crazy.
Even with the added metal plating, the armor's defense was still limited. It couldn't compare to the full-metal Mark IV, and it wasn't even as tough as the Mark V. It could handle bullets okay, but a rocket was pushing it.
The instant Soldier: 76 appeared, the suited thugs panicked. This was the guy who had single-handedly blown up an entire mercenary stronghold—they were way out of their league.
All they could do was keep shooting. Bullets flew like they were free, trying to pin Soldier: 76 down with sheer firepower. They knew that once he started fighting back, they'd have zero chance—they'd just be waiting to die.
"Soldier: 76 can't save you either! Just die already, Ronin!"
Seeing Soldier: 76 forced into a purely defensive position, Walton stood off to the side happily puffing on his cigar.
Just as they expected, Soldier: 76 was completely suppressed by the barrage and couldn't fight back at all. But this didn't match the movies—Soldier: 76 wasn't Iron Man. How the hell could he tank that many bullets?
"Take one of me down, and a thousand more will rise up."
The suppressive fire went on for so long that Thomas finally couldn't hold out anymore. He dropped to one knee, using his rifle to prop himself up. Luckily, he'd lasted long enough for the enemies to empty their magazines and start reloading.
"We're all on the same team!"
The moment he collapsed, another Soldier: 76 appeared, tactical visor glowing red.
"What?!"
Walton had just taken a puff and immediately started coughing from the smoke.
His face was filled with shock. He never imagined there could be two Soldier: 76s in the world—let alone that Ronin himself was one of them.
This was completely beyond his understanding. How was any of this possible?
The suited thugs were even more stunned. Could superheroes be mass-produced now?
Ronin started moving. His suit prioritized mobility, so its bulletproofing was only average. At long range it could pass for body armor, but at this close distance, getting hit felt no different from shooting regular cloth.
Speed was the key to victory!
He fired a helix rocket. Three mini-rockets spun out.
Boom!
The mini-rockets exploded in a brilliant blue shockwave, instantly killing four thugs and wounding three or four more.
Thanks to all the kills he'd racked up while blocking the door at the mercenary base last time, his energy bar filled up after just four or five shots.
Tactical visor—activated!
Even in the dark, he could see every enemy's position clearly.
The blue holographic screen floating in front of Ronin's eyes glowed brilliantly in the night, drifting like a ghost.
The blue flames at the muzzle danced happily. With every burst, another life ended.
Moments later, all the black-suited thugs lay dead on the ground, their chests sparkling with glowing blue light.
The crystal-blue bullet holes in dozens of corpses connected into faint lines, forming a beautiful pattern—like stars in the sky.
With the enemies taken care of, Ronin walked over to Thomas, crouched down, and placed a biotic emitter on the ground. Pale yellow biotic energy rose like a swarm of fireflies, healing his wounds.
Thomas was pretty badly hurt. His suit was riddled with holes, but the internal metal plating had stopped the bullets from penetrating. He only had surface injuries.
Under the biotic field, the burns from the rocket and the grazes from bullets healed at a visible speed.
"Sir, I feel a lot better now."
Thomas stared at the little device on the ground, amazed at how such a small biotic emitter could heal almost any injury.
"Nice work. I'm adding another 30% to this month's bonus," Ronin said with a snap of his fingers, feeling lucky to have such a perfectly coordinated friend.
He spotted faint lights approaching and quickly canceled the transformation.
A helicopter flew in and landed nearby. Six special forces soldiers jumped out.
Ronin walked over. "You guys are late again."
One of the Falcon members scratched his head awkwardly. "The captain figured something might happen at your place, so he sent us to protect you. Didn't expect Soldier: 76 to beat Falcon to the punch again."
He noticed the badly damaged suit and let out a small whistle. "Looks like there was one hell of a fight here."
Thomas sighed. "I'm getting old. Can't keep up anymore."
"The world still needs you to keep the peace—you can't go down yet," the Falcon member joked. He walked forward, saw the bodies on the ground, and muttered, "Dressing up in suits just to do dirty work… real classy."
"Maybe they wanted to prove they were respectable people while they were alive," Ronin said.
"This guy must be that Walton," the Falcon member added.
Even in death, Walton's face was frozen in terror, a cigar still burning beside his hand. He never would have guessed that the Soldier: 76 he thought he knew wasn't the real one at all.
His arrogance had cost him his life.