Razor was really compliant; he had indeed wrapped something in the bed to look like a person and tucked himself under the window sill, lying on a spread sheet on the floor.

Razor: "I woke up early but didn't want to move, just leave it like that."

Jimmy: "Take care of yourself; I'm stepping out for a bit."

Razor: "Bring me a beer, just one will do."

Jimmy: "Alright, have some pizza to fill up first."

Jimmy cleaned up in the bathroom and then left the apartment. There was still plenty of time. It would be at least afternoon or evening before they caught on. He drove home first to take a shower, then came back after having breakfast. Jimmy gave Hughes a call to inform him that he was helping Ruiz with witness protection. Hughes didn't say much, only reminded him to stay safe before hanging up.

After reporting in, this became an official mission. Jimmy wasn't just running around aimlessly anymore. He would proceed with the usual procedures; the rest was all up to him.

According to the style of the New York gangs, Trinidad would definitely quiet down a bit. Since two of their men were caught and they were exposed, the next step would be to behave. Otherwise, if the FBI got wind of them, these small gangs would be wiped out.

Jimmy bought some food and drinks and brought them to the apartment, planning not to go downstairs for the day.

In the afternoon, Jimmy took a nap in advance and then woke Razor up to take the night shift when it was time for him to sleep.

Just as Jimmy had suspected, several dark figures arrived downstairs after 1 a.m. It was clear that they had managed to find their position during the day when Jimmy was unaware, and it was possible that they might have prepared a key in advance. The apartment door was effortlessly opened, and they carefully lined up to climb the stairs, their movements suggesting they were trained.

Jimm's apartment was on the third floor, a height that was most suitable; it was not too far from the ground, facilitating escape via the fire escape while also reducing the number of attackers in front, at least not having to face attacks from above and below on the first and second floors.

Jimmy watched as they slowly made their way up to the third floor. Just by their movements, it was clear they were not residents of the building. Their tiptoeing manner was anything but normal.

In his left hand was an M686, and in his right a Glock, already squatting behind the sofa. Seeing three people on each side of the door, the person at the front bent over fiddling with the lock— they were picking the lock.

The door moved slightly but didn't open completely. Those at the door began to gather, and the person at the front quietly pushed open the door. Due to the friction on the door hinges, a "creak" sound was made. Their movements hastened, and as the first three men raised their pistols and entered the door, Jimmy opened fire.

The firepower from the Glock was reliable; the three men in front managed only a few shots before Jimmy took them all down. The ones behind instinctually ducked aside at the sound of gunfire, lucky in avoiding the deadly funnel at the door.

"FBI, put down your weapons and surrender," Jimmy still called out, then moved away from behind the sofa to a different spot. From the shadows, it was clear that the six men didn't wear night-vision goggles. For a room where the curtains were drawn and the light was off, it was complete darkness, and after Jimmy moved, they definitely couldn't determine his position immediately.

"Bang, bang," the people outside fired several shots towards where Jimmy had been behind the sofa, the sound of gunfire revealing his position. These men were well-trained, not precisely accurate but the direction was correct.

Jimmy stayed silent, lying on the ground to minimize exposure, replacing the Glock magazine to prepare for the intruders.

Jimmy now had the chance to shoot one of them from the side, but he was not in the room, rather in the hallway. For Jimmy, it was still best to shoot from within the room, making it justifiable without any repercussions.

The people outside were already reloading, judging by how their initial blind fire had emptied their magazines. After reloading, someone peeked briefly into the room from beside the door and quickly retreated, probably seeing nothing. The three made several hand gestures to each other, but unfortunately, they weren't standard tactical signs, and Jimmy couldn't understand what their plan was.

Quickly getting into position, one on the left and two on the right, as the person on the left signaled with his hand, the three men entered the room in a file. Because there were three bodies on the floor, they were forced to spread out as they entered. Jimmy took advantage of this moment to open fire. A Glock could empty a magazine quickly as long as the trigger was pulled fast enough. Their initial aim was still at the sofa, and by the time they redirected to Jimmy, it was too late.

The three men fired only a few shots before Jimmy took them all down. In this situation, there was no room for Mozambique-style shooting; directing bullets to the upper bodies of the three men was the most effective method.

After the gunfire ceased and the three men lay motionless at the door, Jimmy stood up. Six men had cost him two Glock magazines, which was justifiable given the complete darkness. Others didn't know that he could accurately see each person; covering fire was normal.

Jimmy called out: "Razor, don't come out; I'll check first."

Razor: "Got it."

Jimmy went over, turned on the living room light, kicked all the guns that had fallen to the side, then put on gloves and began to search. Spare magazines, a Dagger—all were taken out and thrown aside. As for other things on their bodies, he left them alone.

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