Lucy didn't stop firing her pistol, continuously shooting at the Tiger Claw gang pursuing them. Her aim wasn't perfect, but in the narrow space, those guys didn't dare to charge recklessly.
They were gang thugs, not suicide squads or madmen.
Small-caliber submachine guns and pistols couldn't even penetrate a suit at close range. High-level thugs got taken down in seconds, who knows what freakishly powerful cybernetic enhancements those two had.
Why risk their lives for a paycheck that barely covers the month? Firing a couple of shots into the air is enough to appease the boss.
They weren't like their ancestors who could rush at tanks with just manure shovels. Those hot-blooded fools died long ago in gang wars.
Only those with defensive cybernetic enhancements dared to be more reckless.
Pump-action shotguns were powerful, but they always had a weakness in lasting power. Once out of ammo, the Tiger Claw gang wouldn't give you time to slowly reload.
