In an instant, two Desert Eagles were already in Ren's hands, their barrels aimed directly at the soldiers in front of him. His blue eyes gleamed with an icy sharpness—without a hint of hesitation.
Before they could react, his finger squeezed the trigger.
BANG! BANG!
Blood splattered across the already blood-soaked ground. The high-caliber rounds tore through their armor as if it were mere paper, shredding flesh and bone beneath. One soldier, shot square in the chest, was flung backward, his lifeless body collapsing amidst the ruins.
"W-What!?"
Another soldier scrambled to draw his sword, but before he could even raise it, a bullet pierced his skull, sending him crashing face-first into the dirt.
Too late. They were all too late.
Ren moved swiftly, his footsteps light as he weaved between the panicked soldiers. Some tried to run, but his precise shots cut them down one by one. No one escaped. No one could even cry out for help.
