This was no ordinary garage—it was a massive Eteon base, cavernous and wide, filled with rows of armored trucks and stacked crates of ammunition. The space was so vast that the placement of vehicles carved the hall into grid-like pathways.
For Leon, that meant one thing—opportunity. Paths to weave, to dodge, to strike.
The moment he broke through the perimeter, he threw the Range Rover into a brutal side-drift. The SUV screeched across the concrete, tires screaming, sparks flying. The sound echoed in the empty base, taunting the enemy.
A single man against their entire army—yet he moved with unrestrained arrogance.
Brixton's chest heaved with rage, his expression twisted. This was his territory, his base, and somehow they still couldn't pin Leon down.
"STOP HIM!!" he roared, voice booming across the hangar. "If bullets don't work—blow the place apart if you have to!"
The order spread like wildfire. Eteon soldiers scrambled into motion.
Suddenly, five men appeared ahead, each hefting a rocket launcher onto their shoulders.
Leon's eyes widened. "You've gotta be kidding me… rockets? In your own damn base?!"
The madness of it almost made him laugh—but Brixton wasn't bluffing. This was desperation.
Five rocket tubes flared white, tails spewing fire as the missiles streaked toward him.
Leon's face hardened. "Fine. Let's dance."
The Range Rover's engine roared louder, pushing beyond its limits. Instead of slowing, Leon floored it harder, accelerating straight into the storm.
From outside, Brixton's cybernetic eyes widened. "He's… accelerating?!" Even for him, the move made no sense.
But Leon wasn't just driving—he was playing chess at 200 km/h.
The SUV's electronic handbrake snapped. Tires locked, the heavy vehicle whipped into a sideways slide. The Range Rover cut into an alternate lane, the missiles screaming past its rear bumper by inches.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Five warheads tore into the base itself, explosions thundering through the hangar.
Two missiles hit stacked ammo crates. The blast ripped through the hall like a shockwave, hurling men to the ground, blood spraying from their mouths as glass shattered and flames engulfed the area.
Two more slammed into the floor, spraying shrapnel across soldiers, shredding faces and bodies into agony.
The last missile struck one of the trucks.
KABOOM!
The fuel tank ignited, turning the entire vehicle into a fireball. The explosion launched it three meters into the air before it crashed down, consumed by raging flames. Nearby trucks were blown aside like toys, colliding into each other, chaos rippling across the base.
The hangar was hell itself now, fire and metal everywhere.
But Leon's eyes gleamed predatorily. Ahead stood Brixton, the cybernetic monster rebuilt again and again by Eteon. Leon gritted his teeth, slammed the throttle, and aimed straight for him.
The Range Rover's growl deepened, needle climbing past 240 km/h. The SUV was at its peak, every piston straining to keep up with Leon's insane control.
"Let's see you block THIS!" Leon shouted, exhilaration lighting his face.
Brixton didn't flinch. He planted himself in the middle of the path, raising his reinforced arms. His cybernetic frame hummed with power.
BOOM!
The SUV rammed into him with earth-shaking force. Brixton's hands slammed against the hood, denting the steel. He roared, legs digging into the concrete, sparks flying from his heels as the force pushed him back.
But this wasn't a normal driver.
Leon's hands danced across the gears, his foot working the throttle in perfect rhythm. Power surged again and again, the Range Rover grinding forward like a battering ram.
Brixton's teeth gnashed, blood vessels bursting in his eyes. His cybernetic heels ripped gouges in the floor, but the SUV kept shoving him backward, relentless.
"STOP… DAMN… YOU!!" Brixton bellowed, metal creaking in his bones, boots tearing apart.
The soldiers could only stare, eyes wide. This wasn't a car anymore—it was a war beast, fueled by Leon's will.
CRASH!!
The Range Rover slammed Brixton into the wall, concrete cracking as dust exploded outward. The SUV shuddered to a halt, its hood crumpled like paper.
Brixton was pinned, arms and legs twisted against the mangled steel, trapped in place.
Leon coolly drew his pistol, shot the inflated airbag out of his way, then leveled the barrel at Brixton's head.
The cyborg glared back, hatred burning in his artificial eyes. No blood, no pain—just stubborn, unyielding defiance.
"Do it!" Brixton snarled. "Kill me!"
Leon's expression turned to ice.
"Gladly."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The pistol barked again and again, bullets tearing through Brixton's skull. Sparks burst as metal shattered. His cybernetic brain split apart like smashed circuitry, eyes flickering out, body sagging lifelessly over the SUV's hood.
Leon sneered. "Not this time. No respawns. No second chances."
Where Hobbs once showed mercy in the films, Leon did the opposite—no hesitation, no restraint. Brixton, Eteon's Black Superman, was finally destroyed for good.
Leon lowered the smoking gun, his voice a low growl.
"Now… who's next?"
Gunfire erupted from all sides, soldiers screaming as the battle raged on.
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