Chapter 1312: Graceful Debut of a Cold Weapons Master

The captain was the third last to die from both teams; there were only two team members left.

While these two pressed against the shelf and the wall as they guarded the aisle, Luke drew his axe from the captain’s throat and slashed at their necks.

Looking at the bloodstained axes, Luke decisively abandoned these murder weapons.

The first few criminals had been cut through the back of the neck, and there hadn’t been much blood. With the last three, Luke had cut through major blood vessels.

He couldn’t take the axes, or they would drip blood on his custom-made suit.

Thinking that, he looked at the walls again and chose a more modern pair of swords.

It already wasn’t good to use someone else’s collector’s items to kill people; it was better not to touch the more antique weapons.

The moment he picked up the swords, Luke couldn’t help but curl his lip. Sure enough, this was the toy of some weapon enthusiast.

They had extremely flashy gold hand guards, but were much sturdier than antique swords; they looked like something from the 18th century.

They were far heavier than modern fencing equipment; the impractical, hollow hand guard, and the ridiculous unchanged weight proved that the greatest use for ancient swords was still as decoration. The maker had never considered that they would be used in actual combat one day.

This was combat master Luke’s evaluation of the craftsmanship of these swords. Holding them at a downward angle on each side, he glided forward.

This was a side ability he had developed using Elementary Telekinesis. It could be used to cushion his feet and prevent his clothes from rustling so that his movements were soundless.

This function was worth the time he had spent researching it.

The ten criminals in the right aisle were swiftly retreating. It had only been ten seconds since the first person opened fire.

The commander could monitor the situation in real time via the night vision gear of these criminals.

So, he immediately realized that something was wrong with the ten people in the left aisle. He decisively ordered the group on the right to withdraw and keep the situation under control, and the criminals outside sent another 20 people in.

At that point, there were about 80 people left in this 100-man operation.

There were 50 people outside the museum, and 30 inside.

At the same time, the commander activated a separate communication channel and said in a low voice, “He’s on the second floor.”

There were only two light taps to indicate that the message had been received, and no more movement after that.

The commander took a deep breath and refocused on the battle.

If possible, he hoped that ten of his men could live so that he wouldn’t have to step up.

If all his men died, he didn’t have much hope of being able to survive himself.

He had rolled the dice; the chance of surviving without being crushed was next to zero.

In the end, the outcome of the battle would depend on what Boogeyman John did and the true trump card on their side.

Neither of these was under his control.

He was just a pawn, not a player.

After everything was done, he could only wait for fate to run its course.