From the 13th-floor window, Cyrus watched more than 1,000 residents scatter in panic.Even he took a slow breath. It was his first time using a grenade, and he had not expected such force. He had watched too many bad shows where heroes shrugged off explosions as if they were fireworks.Reality was different. Modern weapons tore through ordinary people like wet paper. One grenade shattered the crowd like mice. One grenade, and almost twenty people died, directly or indirectly.He had planned to throw a few more. After the first blast, though, everyone fled in a frenzy. Another throw would not have the same effect.Their helplessness drained his interest. He saw no reason to waste grenades. He only had 20 boxes, and he needed to conserve them.He sat down and waited for Marco, Tony, and the others.A few minutes later, they staggered in one by one, gasping for air. In weather like this, climbing nine floors punished anyone. Only Tony, hardened by years on construction sites, and Ja
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