HLM – Chapter 151 Taking Them All Down

As the Marauder reached the foot of the mountain, Charlie and the others spotted signs of the thieves. The cattle, led by the Bull King, were mooing incessantly—it was obvious something was wrong.

The advantage of the urban armored vehicle began to shine. This vehicle was bulletproof. Charlie asked Wang Bo to move aside from the driver’s seat. He drove the vehicle, not into the ranch directly, but instead went around to intercept the trailers from behind.

The trailers used in New Zealand’s agricultural and livestock industry are tractor trucks pulling livestock transporters. Of course, these tractors weren’t as massive and domineering as Optimus Prime—just regular medium-sized trucks.

But the Marauder only feared heavy-duty trucks. Against these medium-sized ones, similar in size to itself, it had the upper hand in both weight and horsepower.

Charlie slammed the gas pedal all the way down, and the Marauder charged at a truck that had turned around and was trying to flee.

“Ahhh! Holy shit!”

“Charlie, are you crazy?!”

“God help us!”

But the truck driver was even more terrified. Seeing a massive vehicle charging at him menacingly, he panicked and yanked the steering wheel in an attempt to turn and evade.

But this was on a ranch, and the grass was slippery. The truck turned too fast and couldn’t keep its balance…

Like collapsing a tower of golden mountains and jade pillars, the truck with its long livestock trailer lifted one side of its wheels off the ground. Starting from the front, the whole truck toppled over with a crash!

The remaining three trucks started up one after another. Realizing things were going badly, they also tried to flee. Charlie gritted his teeth fiercely and swerved, seemingly planning to scare them into flipping over the same way.

But Wang Bo wasn’t willing to take that risk again. They had just been lucky—the previous driver had poor nerves and poor skills, which had caused the flip.

They couldn’t count on being that lucky every time. God wouldn’t always be on their side. If they actually crashed into one, and someone got hurt, it’d be serious.

Wang Bo calmly grabbed Charlie’s arm, took out the key to Optimus Prime, and shouted to Bowen, “Bowen! Start the truck! Use our truck to scare the hell out of them!”

Optimus Prime’s massive form stood beside the cowboy apartments, towering and formidable like a mountain. The Marauder quickly drove over. Bowen jumped in and turned the key—headlights blazed to life, and four beams shot out, piercing the dim night!

Wang Bo jumped out of the vehicle. He stood in the illuminated area in front of the truck, raised his pistol, and fired two shots. The sharp cracks of the gun echoed far into the silent night.

Juan threw open the car door and cooperated, shouting at the top of his lungs:  “Listen the f*** up! Come out now, or we’ll shoot to kill!”

But shouting didn’t help. The Bull King and his herd were still mooing wildly, several truck engines were roaring, and the Marauder’s engine was even louder—so the yelling couldn’t be heard.

At this moment, Wang Bo really missed Hani. Maybe only the old freak’s voice could have cut through the noise.

The thieves’ resistance was beyond what he expected. He’d thought the combo of Optimus Prime and the Marauder would intimidate them—but it had no effect. The three trucks still tried to flee after turning around.

Luckily, reinforcements from the ranch arrived.

A helicopter roared in from the distance, its spotlight far brighter than any truck headlights, enveloping the three trucks in its beam.

The helicopter slowly descended, rotor blades stirring up a massive airflow. Startled, the Bull King and the herd backed off. The people on the trucks, seeing the chopper arrive, finally gave up resisting. One by one, the drivers jumped off and squatted on the ground in terror.

Wang Bo let out a sigh of relief. He owed Bartier a big favor this time—if he hadn’t deployed the helicopter, dealing with these thieves would’ve been much harder.

The helicopter hovered above, its dazzling light sweeping around to provide illumination for Wang Bo and the others.

Seeing the thieves were unarmed, Charlie and his group went forward to capture them with confidence.

Bowen, enraged, wanted to go beat the thieves up, but Wang Bo stopped him and shouted, “Go check on Beebe and the others—see what happened!”

As the town sheriff and the ranch owner, Wang Bo had the right to arrest and deal with these thieves. Unfortunately, he only had two pairs of handcuffs—far from enough for everyone.

Charlie used rope to tie the thieves’ hands behind their backs. They were all Māori, covered in tattoos, some even with facial tattoos—they didn’t look like decent people.

These thieves didn’t behave like captured criminals either. A few, even after being caught, kept shouting: “Call an ambulance now! Great Mori God, my leg’s been trampled by a bull!”

“Aaagh, my leg hurts—get me some pain relief! Help me, for God’s sake!”

“I want to call my lawyer! Get him here now! You can’t arrest us, this is a misunderstanding! Let me go!”

Charlie checked a few injuries and then ran over to shout to Wang Bo, “We need to call the hospital in Auckland—have them send ambulances! A few of these guys are in bad shape!”

Wang Bo shouted back in anger, “Let them die! Damn it, we still don’t have any word from Beebe and the others!”

Just then, Bowen peeked out from a doorway and shouted in panic, “Boss! Come quick—Beebe and the others have been knocked out! You need to see this!”

Wang Bo ran to the apartment door. As soon as he stepped inside, he caught a sweet and slightly pungent scent that made him sneeze twice. He asked, “Shit, what’s this smell?”

Charlie sniffed, covered his nose, and said, “It’s a mixed ether gas—anesthetics like enflurane, ****, propylene, and ethanol. When volatilized in the air, it creates a fast-acting knockout effect.”

Wang Bo took off his shirt and wrapped it around his face. Bowen did the same and asked urgently, “Is it toxic?”

Charlie hesitated a moment and said, “Low toxicity. But call the hospital and prepare ambulances. The cowboys need to be observed at the hospital…”

Hearing this, Bowen flew into a rage. He snatched Wang Bo’s pistol and charged toward the thieves.

Charlie quickly stopped him, shouting, “Calm down! The priority now is getting our guys out! The longer they’re in that gas, the more dangerous it is!”

Bowen threw the pistol to the ground and ran back to drag Ian, who was lying at the door, outside.

As the biggest cowboy, Ian must have put up some resistance. He had collapsed at the doorway with his phone in hand—he probably smelled the gas, realized something was wrong, and tried to call for help, but didn’t make it.

Working together, the three quickly dragged six cowboys out of the room. Charlie pried open their eyelids and checked their heartbeats.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “they’re just knocked out—their vital signs are stable.”

Wang Bo finally let out a breath of relief. The cowboys had to be okay—otherwise, he and Bowen wouldn’t be able to face their families.