Some newbies saw the woman's body, battered beyond recognition by bullets, first stood in a daze, then vomited.
Their faces were pale with terror; they had never imagined such an outcome, even those newcomers who had resolved to kill were trembling now. After all, they hadn't experienced bloodshed; unless one was a homicidal maniac, everyone needed time to adapt.
Most of the Conquerors were expressionless, accustomed to these sights, but some showed signs of distress.
The man, seeing his wife killed, charged at the thin black man like a madman. But as soon as he stood up, he was kicked in the crotch by a braided Indonesian man next to him, curled up like a shrimp and convulsed on the ground.
The eldest son also sprung into action, but before he could reach the thin man, he was targeted by several assault rifles and shot into a honeycomb.
It was the Indonesians and Vietnamese who shot, aiming at the son as their target, hence competing for the kill.
