Chapter 1: The most unexpected crossing in history (1)
The most unexpected time travel in history (1)
c city.
Downstairs at the World Trade Center, police lights flashed.
Countless police cars only blocked the entire road, and the yellow police circle formed a huge blockade area.[
The Flying Tigers had already sneaked into the building quietly and quickly headed towards the top of the building.
On several surrounding buildings, snipers were already ready to attack.
In the sky, five or six helicopters were circling the building.
At the same time, four other helicopters were flying rapidly towards the building.
If we take it seriously, is it a terrorist attack?
No!
All this is just to catch one person.
One, woman!
To be honest, it's just a girl.
Now, she was on the roof of the building, her military boots stepping on the top of the lightning tower on the roof, standing against the wind.
As long as you lift your face and look straight up, you can see her.
In the night wind, her clothes and hair were fluttering fiercely.
Her hair, which was originally as dark as night, was reflected in a strange and mysterious deep purple by the neon lights on the roof.
Her exquisite face flickered under the neon lights.
Faintly, there is a halo flickering.
At this moment, she was lazily crossing her arms and looking down at this bizarre city.
There was a mocking smile in his eyes as black as paint.
She just turned a blind eye to the helicopters that circled up and hovered in the air.
She just turned a deaf ear to their attempts to persuade them to surrender.[
She just looked downstairs with her face down, as if she was reminiscing about something.
"Murong Poxiao, you have been surrounded..."
The high-decibel loudspeaker clearly transmitted the voice of the fat policeman to the top of the building, and even the strong night wind could not dissipate it.
Murong Lixiao, who was standing on the roof of the building, frowned in disgust.
It seemed that she was disgusted with the other party's unattractive voice, which ruined her mood of recalling it.
Looking sideways at the fat man who was shouting, Murong Poxia lazily stretched out his right hand.
Put the four fingers together and raise only the long, slender, white middle finger.