America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz-Chapter 786 - 779: Gunshots at the Premiere

Two cars had arrived at the edge of the red carpet, and from the leading Bentley emerged Vin Diesel in a white suit.

After the Bentley left, the Escalade behind it moved forward slowly.

The queue of cars was too long, the Bentley had to stop and wait after moving a single car's length.

The Escalade stopped in front of the red carpet.

Nicholson peered through the car window onto the carpet, "That guy seems to have been doing quite well these past few years."

"He pulled together a crowd and produced a very successful series of movies." In Martin's memory, Tang and Captain Sparrow had something in common, initially both were supporting characters, but later became absolute protagonists.

The media cameras had been focused on Vin Diesel.

But as the Escalade stopped at the edge of the red carpet, the reporters recognized Martin's car, and their cameras quickly turned towards it.

Vin Diesel, sensing the shift, slowed his pace and looked back.

He saw Bruce and Nicholson getting out of the car from the front passenger seat and back seat, respectively.

Martin, having exited from the other side, now came around from the front of the car.

The area around the red carpet erupted, with the roar of the crowd several times louder than when Christian Bale passed by.

"Martin! Martin..."

"Hierarch, look this way; I am your disciple!"

"Forever the Cola Cult! Forever the Joker!"

Flashes surrounded Martin and Nicholson, with nearly all media cameras trained on them.

Vin Diesel, despite his stoic face, felt somewhat uncomfortable.

Tang was used to being the center of attention.

Across from him, a Joker's gaze shifted from Martin to Vin Diesel's striking bald head and white suit.

Originally, James's primary target was Martin, but he was a bit too far and surrounded by flashes, making it hard to see clearly.

He flipped his coat open, drew an M79 submachine gun, disengaged the safety, and aimed not ten meters away at Vin Diesel, pulling the trigger.

Da da da—

The sound of gunfire suddenly rose, drowning out the noise of the premiere, as though it could pierce people's eardrums.

In an instant, Vin Diesel, sensing something amiss, turned his head towards the source, noticed the flash of gunfire, and felt something penetrate his body, while something else burst out from within.

Then, darkness enveloped him, and he collapsed with a thud.

Blood stained his white suit red, flowing out from four or five bullet holes.

At the first sound of gunfire, Martin caught it instantly; he knew it was gunfire, and pulled Nicholson back, who was about to walk forward, pushing him forcefully towards the still-open back seat while shouting loudly, "Gunshots, take cover!"

Old Cloth trusted Martin, and combined with his crawling and Martin's pushing, got into the car without understanding what happened until the door slammed shut and he started to comprehend.

Bruce, who had already positioned himself in front of Martin, drawn his pistol, but his eyes, having just been bombarded by flash photography, couldn't make out the distance clearly.

Martin was shouting, and he was too, "Get in the car! Get in the car!"

The back door closed and, without a word, Bruce shoved Martin into the front passenger seat.

Then he rushed towards the front of the car.

This Escalade was bulletproof!

The premiere scene exploded into chaos, screams filled the air, fans around James panicked and fled, with others running as well.

Near the Escalade, many had heard Martin's shouts, saw his actions, and some immediately lay flat on the ground, while others hurriedly sought cover behind cars.

But there were some reporters who, even facing mortal danger or gunfire, still aimed to capture the bullets flying towards them.

A few shots downed Vin Diesel, and James quickly swung his gun towards the Escalade, not taking the time to aim properly, and pulled the trigger again.

Da da da da—

The muzzle of the M79 submachine gun spewed flames!

Just as Martin had closed the front passenger door, he heard a rattling barrage of sound, unsure how many bullets had hit the Escalade.

A bullet struck the front passenger window, leaving a large white mark on the bulletproof glass.

Martin leaned back in his seat, reaching into the glove box, his eyes watching as Bruce passed over the hood of the car, a streak of blood spurting out, staining the front windscreen red.

He lost balance and fell near the front wheel on the other side.

"Old Cloth!" Martin's eyes fixed on the swath of red, his forehead veins throbbing, as he took out a Beretta from the glove box, disengaging its safety.

Beside him, Nicholson's old driver lowered the driver-side window slightly, Martin's voice reached outside, "Old Cloth, are you still alive?"

"Can't kill me!" Bruce's voice was obviously abnormal, "Right arm took a hit!"

As gunshots rang out from the rear of the car, Martin said, "Get in, hurry up and get in!"

Bruce, with his arm hanging, crawled into the back seat.

Blood kept flowing from his right upper arm, and his forehead was covered in sweat.

Nicholson, having realized they were under gunfire and seeing Old Cloth injured, quickly pulled out his belt to tie above the wound.

The old driver had followed Nicholson for many years and had seen his share of big scenes; though panicked, he still trembled as he picked up his phone to dial 911.

Martin looked back at Bruce, saw there was no threat to life, and felt somewhat relieved, immediately turning his gaze towards the gunman twenty or so meters away.

The gunman's complexion was ashen; he had a gaping mouth, wore a long black coat – a typical Joker outfit.

Even the submachine gun he carried was the M79 used by the Joker in the movies.

The premiere scene was in complete disarray, with people lying on the ground, fleeing in terror, bleeding from gunshot wounds – utter chaos.

But Martin's eyes were only on the gunman!

If the bullet had been slightly more off, his bosom buddy could have been gone!

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Martin calmed himself, gripping the Beretta tightly in one hand while his other hand rested on the car window control.

The Escalade was blocked in front and behind, with no way out.

The premiere had invited too many guests, and a long line of luxury cars stretched off into the distance.

The reporters crouching by the cars, feeling a bit safe, immediately set up their cameras to start filming.

How could they miss such big news?

Behind the car, gunfire rang out again, mixed with the roar of off-road motorcycle engines.

The crowd, already scattered in flight, now became even more chaotic.

James Holmes emptied a magazine and immediately pulled a tear gas grenade from his pocket, throwing it towards the Escalade.

Tear gas began to billow out, and those who had been lying on the ground fled in panic, blocking Martin's view.

Just as Martin was lowering the window a bit, he hurriedly rolled it back up and reached behind him: "Water!"

Nicholson, who had just finished taping Bruce's arm with a belt, opened the car's refrigerator, randomly grabbed a bottle of Coca-Cola, and threw it over.

Martin caught it, bit open the cap, poured it over the door's storage bin, pulled out a soaking wet towel, and covered his mouth and nose with it, tying it at the back of his head.

Worried that Martin might need more, Nicholson took out a few more bottles of Coke and placed them on top of the armrest box.

At the same time, James loaded a new magazine, spun the gun towards the entrance of the theater, and didn't care who it was, he just sprayed bullets wildly in the direction where the most people in dresses were.

The people at the entrance of the Dolby Theatre had run inside at the first sound of gunfire.

People like The Nolans and Annie-Hathaway went into the Dolby Theatre and ran towards the back.

But those on the red carpet weren't so lucky.

The boss of the Fast & Furious series, Vin Diesel, was killed on the spot, and Christian Bale, still on the red carpet, was impacted by the panicked crowd and barely made it to the steps in front of the theater entrance.

Rat-tat-tat—

The gunfire blazed just behind him, and Bale felt a tremendous force striking his rear, catapulting him forward into an ignominious fall, with his nose striking the stone steps, immediately flattening his prominent nose bridge.

An intense pain drilled into his back, as if struck by an electric drill. He wiped it with his hand, and when he brought his sticky, blood-covered hand back, it was all red.

Screams filled his ears, and a person with a headshot fell in front of Bale.

Bale didn't dare to get up, nor did he have the strength to do so, he could only lie flat on the ground and play dead.

The sound of submachine guns continued, from only one at the beginning to two shortly after, and now three submachine guns were firing.

One was in front of the Dolby Theatre, the other two on either side of Hollywood Boulevard.

The gunmen disguised as Joker sprayed bullets crazily, with screams and wails accompanying the gunfire, echoing nonstop in the center of Hollywood Heights.

Since the incident started, in such a short time, no one knew how many people had fallen.

By the Escalade, peppered with over ten bullet holes, the tear gas had scattered the crowd, and the evening breeze had dissipated the tear gas.

Martin finally saw the gunman twenty meters away!

This bastard almost killed Old Cloth!

"Get down!" Martin shouted!

The old driver in the driver's seat promptly reclined the seat and lay down in the car.

This time, Martin lowered the car window, and the pungent smell immediately wafted in. Even with the wet towel over his mouth and nose, he still felt discomfort, especially in his eyes.

But he held the gun with both hands, raising the Beretta.

Martin's hands were very steady, despite his eyes feeling as if something was jabbed into them.

Twenty meters away, the gunman aiming at the Dolby Theatre entrance appeared no different from the fixed targets at the Angel's Club.

Martin didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger.

Bang, bang, bang—

The Beretta roared, bullets flew out one after another, and hit the black-clad gunman's broad back with unerring accuracy.

James felt the impact of the bullets in his back and tried to turn around to shoot.

But Martin didn't give the gunman any chance to retaliate.

The crackling gunfire was like fireworks, reflecting the essence of freedom in America at that moment.

Martin emptied the Beretta's magazine!

James collapsed, his pallid face turned towards the darkening sky, his blood-red Big Mouth suddenly curled into a smile, as if he was laughing at the moment of death.

His last conscious thought: he was finally liberated from this rotten world!

After emptying the magazine and ensuring the gunman could no longer stand, Martin immediately raised the window and coughed several times.

Even though the night breeze had dispersed the gas, the irritant from the tear gas was still choking.

Rat-tat-tat—

The sound of the submachine guns firing came from behind the car once more, with the roar of the motorcycles and gunfire already alarmingly close!

More bullets hit the Escalade, with two white dots appearing on the rear window.

Martin looked back and saw a gunman dressed as Joker, riding an off-road motorcycle, charging quickly through the gap between the rows of cars.

He was steering with one hand and raising the submachine gun with the other, firing wildly.

Without a specific target, he was just shooting madly.