Just like that, the man who had been shouting moments before was dead. Several women among the refugees shook and screamed in terror, while the men all backed away, looking at Ronan Kendrick with dread.
"You dare kill my big brother? You're asking to die." A man with bloodshot eyes pulled the trigger. It was the last bullet in his gun. BANG! The shot rang out. Ronan dodged it with ease and, before the man could even react, charged forward and kicked him, sending him flying.
The man flew several meters. He groaned in agony, his legs flailing as he tried to get up, but Ronan kicked him squarely in the side. Less than thirty seconds later, the man coughed up a mouthful of blood and drew his last breath.
"You... you..." The refugees stumbled back in terror, their eyes fixed on Ronan Kendrick as if he were the god of death himself.
"Who else wants to 'bathe this farm in blood'?" Ronan Kendrick pointed his rifle at the crowd. "You?"
