"The casualties might become uncontrollable?"

The bald strong man snorted, then flicked off the ash and righteously said, "Daring to assault the administrative building, they’re no ordinary citizens anymore. We must strike with an iron fist!"

"Understood."

Another adviser stood up and saluted, "In that case, I’ll notify the others to direct the nearby off-duty personnel to the riot scene immediately."

In fact, although the entire shelter can’t be considered a country.

From the perspective of government functions and authority over society, the Shelter City’s Management Committee is more effective than most pre-catastrophe nations.

With the operation of the City Council, the entire official force of the shelter began to act.

Every camp with stationed troops was as busy and orderly as worker ants.

Forming an assault formation, the menacing yet aesthetically metallic armored vehicles made buzzing noises as they steadily rolled out of their bases.

Armed air units carrying ample ammunition quickly ascended into the air, entering standby mode.

Of course, there were more robust soldiers clad in nuclear-powered exoskeletons.

They would serve as the final entry troops to execute the wrapping-up operations.

Long before this, a greater number of unmanned devices had already rushed to the riot scene.

If at this moment someone were to look up from within the Habitable City, they’d notice swarms of small drones whizzing across the sky, the sheer number enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

However, the real "Cheng Zhiwu" doesn’t refer to these.

The full title, City Council’s Directly Managed Armed Forces, is a group of Death Fighters financially supported by the City Council. Each member possesses at least one ability.

Compared to the rioters who can only self-manufacture firearms, the disparity in power is simply incomparable.

And this doesn’t even require the Death Battle Campus’s Field Department to get involved.

Thus, the upper echelon of the shelter isn’t particularly alarmed by this riot.

They generally feel more regretful.

After all, if the bottles and jars at home get broken, they’ll have to spend money to rebuild.

...

Pu Xueli’s home.

Five people sat around a round table, eating.

Pu Xueli’s wife placed a piece of braised meat into Lv Qingyan’s bowl and kindly urged, "Qingyan, right? You need to eat more; it’s the growing phase."

"Thank you, Aunt Xiang," Lv Qingyan thanked nervously.

Lv Bai occasionally chatted with Pu Xueli about Death Fighters, talking here and there.

He often heard the chaotic sounds from outside and couldn’t help but be distracted.

"Principal Pu, is it always so noisy here? I can still hear fireworks."

Pu Xueli didn’t know the reason either. He glanced out the window.

Shook his head, guessing, "Maybe it’s due to the new birth festival today? It’s usually very quiet."

Xiang Jingqiu noticed Lv Qingyan’s expression, realizing he showed a keen interest upon hearing the word fireworks.

She gently clapped her hands, "Xiao Qingyan and Xiaoziyi haven’t ever set off fireworks, have they? After we finish eating, you can go out and try it; we have quite a quota of fireworks at home, courtesy of Old Pu."

Indeed, within the shelter, civilians are not allowed to set off fireworks or firecrackers, and money couldn’t buy them.

Hearing Xiang Jingqiu’s words, Lv Qingyan’s eyes immediately lit up, and his impression of Auntie Xiang skyrocketed.

At that moment.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, violent pounding came from the door, accompanied by intermittent cursing.

Pu Xueli’s face darkened. As one of the few principals in the shelter, no one dared be so rude as to barge in daily.

He stood up, imposing without anger.

"Lv Bai, you guys keep eating. I’ll see who’s being so impolite."

He quickly walked to the door and opened it, intending to see who it was.

But what he first saw was a pitch-black gun muzzle.

Standing at the door was a group of sixteen or seventeen-year-olds holding pistols snatched from security officers. Their faces were unnaturally flushed with excitement.

"Damn rich people, die for me!"

Bang~

Before the curse ended, a gunshot followed.

Smoke rose from the gun barrel.

Seeing the situation in front of them, the fervent teenagers at the door were all dumbfounded.

Pu Xueli removed the bullet lodged in his palm, ground it into powder between his thumb and forefinger, his face full of barely concealed fury.

Perhaps these teenagers had their reasons, but he wondered whom he had offended?

He was just peacefully eating a New Year’s meal at home, singing songs when suddenly someone came to the door and fired. How was this justified?

"You should be thankful I’ve taken up self-cultivation in recent years; otherwise, you would all be on the ground by now."

Pu Xueli’s face turned stern, a violent pressure emanating from his body.

These teenagers before him, each one was terrified, frozen in place.

It was as if not an old man but an enraged lion was standing before them.

...

"Combat Unit One has arrived at the designated operation site."

"Combat Unit Two has arrived at the designated operation site."

"Reactor control system temperature is normal."

"Electronic matrix network operating normally."

"Target locked."

"Authorize execution of Joint Counter-terrorism 1A Operations."

Bell Tower Square was filled with a riotous crowd, but upon noticing the drones swarming the sky, the turbulent mass on the square began to rapidly cool down.

Without giving the crowd time to find cover, the dense drones began to dive toward them.

The drones were equipped with small heat-seeking radars, ensuring the bullets reached their targets with maximum efficiency.

Rat-a-tat-tat~

Countless bullets poured out.

In an instant, the square blossomed with bursts of blood flowers, a life-sacrificed unveiling.

There was no room for resistance; the entire scene more resembled a massacre.

In the Central Garden, a few hundred meters straight-line distance from the square, Ding Zhongmin adjusted the fisherman’s hat on his head and nonchalantly whistled to the red-haired bartender beside him.

"Look at that, such a beautiful sight. You have to make these ignorant fools feel pain; only then will they grow the courage to resist."

The red-haired bartender nodded, asking, "Since everything is going smoothly, should we proceed to the next step?"

"No rush, let the other branch offices spread these images first, then we’ll continue with the operation."

"However, these drones are a hassle. Continuing might cause losses to our men."

"Don’t worry, this pile of junk can’t be rampant for long."

Ding Zhongmin chuckled, adding, "After this operation, I might even get to be a branch president."