"Alright, quit your yapping in there and get ready to leave." A fat police officer walked over, tapping his baton against the iron cage. "Your boss paid up, I take the money and do the job, but don't any of you give me trouble." Another cop came over, pulled out a ring of keys, and unlocked the padlock. "Your boss is here to pick you up, so hurry up and get moving. Oh, and tell your boss this: We don't want to piss off the Gunfire Angels, so stop making things hard for us."
Creak—the door opened, and the prostitutes strolled out like they owned the place. The two cops clearly didn’t care how many went in or came out, and didn’t even notice there was an extra person. But even if they didn’t care about the headcount, it was impossible not to notice Jill Young standing out like a sore thumb among a bunch of rough-looking women.
"Who’s the hottie? Never seen her before!"
"No clue, probably new."
"She’s gorgeous! Gotta hit up First Street tonight and see if she’s there!"
"Then we better get there early. If we’re late, there’ll be a line for sure…"
Hearing those two loser cops mumbling behind her, Jill Young just wanted to facepalm. She resisted the urge to blast them to pieces, deciding to get out of the police station first and check out the situation. Priority one: figure out this world—which was clearly not Earth—and see if there were any ridiculously OP badasses around.
The moment she stepped out of the station, she saw a long row of cars parked out front. Thirty or so tough-looking guys came forward—probably here to pick up the "employees." These guys were clearly surprised to see Jill Young and were about to come question her, but just then, the leader’s phone rang. He answered, and his face changed instantly: "What? Gunfire Angels? Where…"
Before he could finish, Jill Young was already looking to her left. At the end of the street, the sound of gunfire was racing closer and closer. One car was leading the charge, speeding down the road, the driver firing a submachine gun behind him as he went. Behind him, a dozen cars gave chase, bullets flying everywhere. It was one wild pursuit, and it was heading straight for them.
The getaway car’s rear wheels exploded one after another, the bumper clattered to the ground, and flames and thick smoke poured from the hood—no way that thing was going to last much longer. Bam! One of the pursuers slammed sideways into the fleeing car, jolting it to a stop. "Open fire! Kill her!" The thugs’ guns spat bullets, clanging off the car’s shell. Meanwhile, the guys who came to pick up the "employees" charged in, clearly teaming up with the attackers.
Just then—crash!—a figure smashed through the front windshield and leapt out. It was a woman: short-sleeved shirt, jeans, big chest, her hair braided all over, exaggerated makeup, and a street-tough vibe. One look and you knew she was a gangster chick.
Midair, she spun around, fired a shot at her own car’s gas tank, and the already flaming vehicle exploded, launching into the air. The attackers nearby scrambled to dodge the blast. In that moment of chaos, the gangster chick twisted again, used a thug’s head as a springboard, and vaulted forward. She arced gracefully through the air, landed with a perfect roll, and when she stood up, she had a hostage in hand.
"Nobody move!" The gangster chick wrapped her left arm around the hostage’s neck, pointing her gun at the enemies with her right. "One more move and I’ll shoot her!"
The attackers paused for a second, glanced at each other, then someone shouted, "Go ahead and kill her! We don’t even know her!"
"Bullshit!" She glanced at her hostage—dazzling platinum hair, stunning beauty, and a calm vibe, even while being held at gunpoint. The gangster chick was sure: "She’s gotta be one of your big shots!" That’s right, the hostage was Jill Young.
Jill Young looked at the gangster chick and realized she was pretty tall—same height as Jill. "Hey, you grabbed the wrong person. I don’t even know those guys."
The gangster chick glared. "Then why were you standing with them?"
Jill shrugged. "Just got out of jail with them, that’s all."
"What?!" The gangster chick was losing it, while the gunmen on the other side raised their weapons—hostage, beauty, whatever, they didn’t care. Rat-a-tat-tat, a hail of bullets filled the air.
In that instant, Jill Young grabbed the gangster chick’s arm with surprising strength, making it impossible for her to break free. At the same time, Jill kicked off the ground, dragging the gangster chick with her in a backward leap. Like dolphins leaping from the water, the two of them arced through the air, landing hard behind an empty car that made for perfect cover.
"Ugh!" The gangster chick grunted as she hit the ground—falling two or three meters without warning was no joke. But Jill Young instantly flipped back onto her feet, partly thanks to her strength, and partly... well, that gangster chick’s big chest made a pretty good cushion. Bullets clanged against the car, its durability dropping fast. Jill crouched behind it, whipped out a gun, and fired back. The gangster chick sprang up too, unleashing a burst of bullets.
Clearly, her physique wasn’t normal either—at least not by Earth standards.
"Who the hell are you?!" the gangster chick yelled at Jill Young while firing. "Standing there looking all fancy, but you’re totally useless—almost got me killed!"
"Who the hell are you?!" Jill shot back, equally annoyed. "I can stand wherever I want, and you dragged me into this gunfight for no reason! Maybe I should take you out first!"
"Take me out? Ha! What a joke!" The gangster chick tossed a grenade. "Those bastards chased me for three whole blocks and still couldn’t get me—like you could!"
"I’m more than enough!" Jill ripped off the car’s front door, wielding it as a shield while firing non-stop with her other hand. "Taking you down would be a breeze!"
The attackers pulled out a rocket launcher—whoosh, a streak of fire shot their way. Both Jill and the gangster chick cursed, dove out together, and boom—their cover car was blasted sky-high. Dodging bullets, they sprinted side by side and ducked behind another car. Pressed against its side, the enemy’s firepower was so fierce they could barely poke their heads out.
"Hey, aren’t you someone from the Gunfire Angels?" Jill yelled at the gangster chick. "Aren’t you guys supposed to be hotshots? Why don’t you have any backup in a fight like this?"
"I’m Xiao Di! The big boss of the Gunfire Angels!" Xiao Di gritted her teeth. "I was just out for a drive, and boom—ran right into these guys doing an arms deal!"
"An arms deal? No wonder those guys are packing so much heat. Talk about bad luck—you’re the queen of trouble today."
"You—!" Xiao Di was about to keep arguing, but her phone rang in her arms. "Hello? Where the hell are you guys? I’m out here solo, about to get killed!"
A voice came through the phone: "Don’t worry, babe, I’m on my way." The voice was deep, slow, steady, magnetic, with a hint of rasp—just hearing it, you knew this was one seriously charismatic person. "Look behind you." The two of them turned to look, and Jill Young squinted, because what she saw was just... How do you even describe it? It was pure drama. (Author’s note: I’m heading out of town for a competition tomorrow, so this chapter is scheduled. Luckily, I’ve kept up with updates, so tomorrow’s two chapters are set. The day after depends on when I get back, but I’ll at least get one chapter out.)