The remaining attackers were visibly shaken by Leon's marksmanship. They had started with a clear advantage, but now, the tables had turned.
"Damn it!" one of them roared, unleashing a flurry of bullets with a submachine gun in a desperate attempt to suppress Leon and his men.
"Bang!"
A single gunshot rang out, and the man with the submachine gun slumped to the ground.
Leon glanced at the body. "Trigger-happy fool," he muttered.
Wild, reckless shooting might be seen as bold in a gang brawl, but on a battlefield, it turned one into an easy target. Leon figured such a person wouldn't last more than a few seconds under fire.
Another enemy peeked out, just enough to expose his head.
"Bang!"
A single shot pierced his cap, and blood began to spill out.
The last gunman, now completely terrified, broke into a sprint, desperate to escape. He made it only a few meters before a gunshot sent him crashing to the ground.
Silence fell as the gunfire ceased.
The street was once again quiet, save for the six lifeless bodies scattered about.
Julien and Thierry were still catching their breath, clearly rattled by the intensity of the skirmish.
"Boss, what's our next move?" Julien asked, his voice still shaky.
Leon, keeping his rifle at the ready, stood up and thought for a moment. "We need to clear the area. Load up the bodies and the weapons into their truck," he ordered. "And keep an eye out. Make sure no one's playing dead."
Julien and Thierry went to work, checking the bodies. Leon's accuracy had left no room for doubt; every target was confirmed dead.
As they loaded the bodies, Leon noticed something about them and frowned.
"Find something?" Julien asked, glancing over.
Leon nodded slowly. "These guys... they're Corsicans."
Two of them wore a Moor's head medallion around their necks, and the way they dressed made it clear to Leon who they were dealing with.
With the bodies and weapons stowed in the truck, Leon gave his next instructions. "Julien, you and Thierry take our truck, get back to base, and inform Mr. Vidal about what went down. I'll handle these bodies and take them out of town to avoid further complications."
"Got it, Boss," Julien replied.
As Julien and Thierry drove off in their truck, Leon climbed into the enemy's vehicle, hauling the corpses with him as he headed toward the outskirts of the city.
Not long after they left, a police car rolled up to the scene. Officers stepped out to find only bloodstains, shell casings, and shattered glass.
"Looks like there was quite a shootout here," one officer remarked, observing the evidence scattered on the ground. "Must've been some heavy firepower."
"I heard there was another shootout nearby," another officer added. "A truck from the Garnier Crew got hit, three dead, truck blown to pieces. Probably a gang feud."
"The chief said things might heat up," said the first officer, shaking his head. "Looks like it's already boiling over."
"Let's log the details and get out of here," the second officer suggested. "No need to dig too deep. We know the drill."
They noted the scene and left, without any desire to delve deeper into what had transpired.
Meanwhile, Leon had driven the truck to a secluded spot in the pine woods outside Marseille. After stopping, he lit a cigarette, leaning against the truck as he waited.
About half an hour later, two vehicles approached. The first was Julien and Thierry's truck. The second belonged to Gaston Vidal, who arrived with his right-hand man, Alain Perrin, and several other captains.
Upon seeing the bodies in the truck, one of the captains pointed. "I recognize this one. That's Orsini, one of Rocca's men. The rest must be his crew."
Vidal surveyed the scene, his expression darkening. "The Santoni Clan, no doubt about it."
Vidal turned to Leon. "I heard what happened from Julien. Good work out there."
The other captains nodded in agreement, their respect for Leon evident. They knew how rare it was to survive such an ambush, let alone turn the tables and eliminate all the attackers.
Vidal continued, "Before your ambush, another group hit one of our trucks. Pascal and two of his men were killed, and the truck was torched. Same brutal style—the Santoni Clan again."
Alain Perrin and the other captains agreed. It seemed clear that the Santoni Clan was behind both attacks.
Vidal's voice dropped to a menacing tone. "This isn't just about robbing goods. Recently, we've had bars raided, clubs disrupted. And it wasn't just the Corsicans—other crews are getting in on it too. They might be ganging up to take us down."
The place fell silent as the gravity of the situation sank in.
Alain Perrin broke the silence. "So, what's our move?"
Vidal's eyes narrowed. "We need to be on high alert, ready for anything. And we need to strike back hard. Alain, start gathering the men. We're going to show the Santoni Clan what happens when they mess with us."
The captains nodded and began to disperse, but Vidal paused and turned to Leon again. "You handled yourself well today. I told you, you're cut out for this line of work. I'm keeping my eye on you."
Vidal and the others left, and only then did Julien and Thierry approach Leon.
"What now, Boss?" Julien asked.
Leon looked at the bodies piled in the truck. "Thierry, strip the submachine guns from the truck and find a bag for them. We might need them later."
"Julien, get some gasoline."
They quickly got to work. Once the guns were secured and the truck doused with gasoline, Leon lit a match, ignited his cigarette, and flicked the match into the truck.
The vehicle erupted in flames.
Leon, Julien, and Thierry climbed back into their truck and left the woods, the fire blazing behind them.