Ultrakill Guns Novels & Stories

“It’s open. “There should be a small panel in the back, you will need the code. It is 11 05 1993.” Hey… wasn’t that my birthday? Punching in the code, the door sprung open, exposing the small box and I dragged it out. Opening it, bright bullets sat inside, filled with blue liquid and I frowned. “What are…?” “Daylight. In a bullet. They are ultraviolet rounds Marley. Grab the gun with the blue grip, it is designed for them.” Looking around, the small gun was sitting to her left and I grabbed it. Dropping the magazine out, I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder. Quickly loading the rounds into the magazine, I shoved it back into the gun and cocked it.

I went ahead and picked up the guns I wanted to use: a Glock G19 Gen5 Compact 9mm Pistol and a Beretta 92X Performance 9mm Handgun—both offering me a concealed carry and easy handling during quick-action scenarios. Like he instructed, I scanned it on the laser scanner near the doorway. Automatically, my face and ID were displayed on the screen and listed the two guns under the miscellaneous tab. "Here are the boxes for these guns," Sir Oxland placed the said objects on the scanner table. "When you run out of bullets, you can come back here and ask for more, but let's hope you won't fire them." "I hope so too, because that means Mr. Windstorm is in danger," I answered while fitting the bullet

Hyperion asked with a creased forehead. She simply rolled her eyes and replied, "Obviously. He gave it to me. Isn't he sweet? Anyway, that doesn't really matter at the moment. Aside from these ones, I would need another two types of guns. And since you are a big-time mafia boss, I expect that you would be able to provide me with the guns I ask for." Hyperion leaned towards her. "Are you somehow insulting me?" She simply shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But anyway, I specifically want a Glock 17m gun and a silencer."

Kartika replied. “Let me introduce this guy,” Alfi said aiming it at Kiki in the voice of SPB (sales promotion boy or the poor guy who sells unimportant stuff in a mall, he always bugs people by presenting his goods before them all of a sudden). “T41 gun, a gun which has 3 kinds of bullets in it.” He added. “Shit!” Kiki exclaimed. “Peluru Pertama: Kabut Panas (Bullet No. 1: Heatwave)!” Alfi exclaimed shooting a red wave to Kiki.

Nicklaus said. " Okay Klaus, Am always at your service ". " Do you have any weapon that can be used against supernatural "? Nicklaus asked. " Umm. I think I got on, the gold gun with diamond bullets, it does a hell lot of damage to supernatural who ain't immortal, developed it in case I was tracked down here, you want it? ". Yakiza asked. " Yeah ". 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽Meanwhile💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Nearly two hours later Gunner was slamming the button home, taking Khyle out with head shot after head shot in the fiercest first person shooter game they'd played yet. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

He reached under the counter and pulled out a matte-black Sig Sauer with a specialized weighted grip. "The compensator is custom-built," Yuri muttered, sliding it toward me. "It won't kick. It’s a ghost’s gun." "Perfect," I said, checking the magazine. "Because I’m going to be the last thing Viktor Volkov never sees coming.”

A motion fluid, practiced, and laced with a violent sort of grace. It was the Glock 17 from before. I knew that model well. Polymer frame, matte black slide, 9mm. Standard issue in half the departments I’d worked with. Lightweight, reliable, and easy to conceal beneath a tailored jacket like his. But in the right, trained hands, it became something far more lethal than a basic service weapon. And Elian’s hand was more than trained. Even his tattoo was wired for this. A jet-black serpent coiled across the back of it, its inky body disappearing under the cuff of his suit. The serpent’s scaled head rested on his knuckle like a sigil. Its forked tongue, a thin black line, traced down his middle

he said. "gun please." she said, and Gavin grinned and handed a silver-coloured Smith and Wesson SD9/40 Glock over to her. "Here you go. I got this custom made for you." He handed her the gun along with silver bullets. Karen collected it squealing with joy. "Do you have golden bullets too?" She asked, and Gavin arched his eyebrow. "Got you covered on that one too." And he handed her golden coloured Smith and Wesson SD9/40 Glock with golden bullets too.

Clicking your sharp, mechanical legs rhythmically on the concrete. Their red optics scanned the environment with more inexorable, mechanical precision. They were relicted killing machines, driven by old kinetic cores, immune to the EMP that had crashed the consortium. “Forty millimetres of hardened carbon,” Silas whispered next to me. He felt nervously the sand from his former white uniform and put the glasses Right. “Even with Kaels rifles, we need precise hits in the joints, otherwise the projectiles bounce off. Their reaction time is zero comma three seconds.