"Oh, we don't know how to live or die. What a idiot yelling is nothing." Bailang, a migrant worker, was still squatting there and pretended not to hear, but his face was both honest and evil, and he was hit with a hammer by a big black guy.
He has the temperament to catch and run. What kind of master is he? These people in front of him make Bai Lang very aware. The level of Chengdu martial arts is only like this. He should be able to kill through a street.
Now it seems that the other party is obviously getting angry, because there is no one who "doesn't care about life and death" to stand up and fight, making him like a clown on the stage, his mentality is broken. But this person's martial arts is not low, and among everyone present,
The calculation is quite strong - Lei Gong's Eighteen Strikes are not a fake trick. But the turtle doesn't come forward, so he can't find it out. "Look! It's urgent! He's urgent! These few tricks are urgent!"
Bailang watched the excitement and didn't think it was a big deal. He squatted there and spoke with his voice transmission skills. This skill was good because he could shift his voice by two or three meters. Sure enough, this guy was crazy. "He has such a hot temper."
, It’s not bad to say that Lei Gong is not bad. I didn’t hear him speak Hakka, and Hai Lufeng wouldn’t come to Chengdu to make a living.” Bai Lang watched this guy jump out of the hall like crazy.
The people outside the hall were all low-level players sent by other forces, who stood outside to fill the atmosphere. Bailang was also among them. Because of his abundant migrant worker temperament, no one asked him where he came from, buddy.
As soon as this guy with the Thunder Block came out, everything was in chaos outside. Some were yelling and some were begging for mercy - the people begging for mercy were that this person was enveloped in the attack of the Thunder Block. Fortunately, this "master" didn't really want to kill anyone.
This guy looked around menacingly with wide eyes, "He must be a relative of the Crocodile God of the South China Sea - it's a pity that the four evil men are not famous yet?" The IQ of the people here is really cute, Bailang squatted and looked at this guy
Come out and show off your power and then go back.
Bai Lang smiled half-heartedly, then looked at the conversation between them, "It's a pity that they are all big men, not even a pretty girl." Seeing that this group of people didn't seem to be ready to fight, they each took a step back and praised each other,
Let's talk about this. Bai Lang used to be a thug in Yahang in his early years. He had seen a lot of real gangsters, and the gangsters on Baidao were the same, which actually made him laugh quite a bit.
"Think about it carefully, it seems to be similar in the officialdom?" Bai Lang slowly walked outside, holding the dog's head in his hands and shrinking his neck, becoming more and more rustic. Finally, the clothes on his body were clean and not torn, otherwise he would really become
Baleno hero.
Chengdu Prefecture is the only important place in Sichuan. In terms of prosperity, only Ziliujing can compare with it. There are many religions and sects in this place, and affairs in the world are constantly changing. Bailang also knows that Chengdu Prefecture is divided into seven gangs, eight sects and nine alliances.
It's a dojo in a screw shell. It's a small place, but there are a lot of people. If you just pull up a gang, there will always be hundreds of people. Of course, there are good and bad among them. Sometimes Bai Lang feels that it is better to stretch out his hand.
When it comes to shooting things like Hanako, Bailang always kills them one by one and then throws them outside the city to feed the dogs.
On this day, troublesome people from the Tibetan border arrived in Sichuan. These evil people who practiced Bon religion were quite unscrupulous. They burned, killed, looted and committed all kinds of crimes. The martial arts they practiced were also very weird, and their sword skills were even more powerful. There were many good hands in Sichuan.
Some people were lost in their hands. Now the talkers in the Chengdu Mansion are talking about how to stop this gang of evil people from the Tibetan border. Bailang has already taken the lead.
There are a few men who are neither monks nor seculars. They have scimitars stuck in their waists. They don't look like good people - these people still smell bad, and their temperaments are really vicious. Now they are robbing a team to send off a bride.
The men, women, and children were laughing ferociously, killing the bearers and porters, and tearing off the women's clothes. "It's so fucking ugly." A voice sounded, and a stone whistled, directly pulling a man to pieces.
His head was smashed to pieces.
Bailang appeared in front of these people. They shouted words that he couldn't understand, and drew their swords to kill Bailang. "It's really a weird move, more like Indian yoga - the angle of the knife and the way of attack."
They are all quite weird, and those who are not familiar with them will be killed easily." Bai Lang said with a smile when he saw that he actually used the barb on the tip of the knife to extend out and attack the enemy in front of him from behind.
Bailang picked up the weird scimitar with a hook on the tip from the corpse and waved it twice casually. "Well, I roughly understand it." At this time, his movements were as usual, and there was no special move, but the timing was very good.
It was so precise that those weird slashing and thrusting barbs passed by Bailang with just a hairsth of a second. This was the change in rhythm, and it looked like a miracle.
Bailang took a small step, dodged the blow to the head, and threw the two thrusts behind his back. The scimitar in his hand just turned in a small circle, and watched as the head of the person in front of him who was struck by the blow flew up in a whoosh.
, "Young people are full of energy! Especially those who practice martial arts!" Bai Lang also praised, and with a backhand knife, he disemboweled the second person without even looking.
He never thought that after his stomach was opened, the villain's performance was not as good as the ordinary people they had just killed. He was so scared that he immediately covered his stomach and kept trying to stuff the leaked internal organs back inside. Bai Lang threw away the scimitar and clapped his hands.
The force turned as expected and hit the blade of the last knife. Frost formed directly on the blade. The frost condensed and spread very quickly. In the blink of an eye, the man's hand froze on the handle of the knife, and the cold air spread along his arm.
On the road, if it reaches the heart, it will be lifeless.
"Bei Feng Xing, you can only use the cold energy this time. After all, the artistic conception is still low. We still have to wait until the completion of the work." Bai Lang was very dissatisfied. As for the person, he didn't even look at it - not even a trace of his unfinished cold energy.
They couldn't stop it. This guy was 100% dead, and freezing to death was the happiest way for him to die. The guy who died the worst was the guy who was disemboweled, and they blamed themselves - there was a wrong edge on the blade, so the wound was half
It's torn, and there's no cure for it in this day and age.
Not to mention the bleeding, the infection is really fatal, and it is also a malignant and rapid infection with a ruptured intestine and feces flowing all over the stomach. The death will be painful and miserable - the death process will probably last two and a half hours. Anyway, Bailang makes that poor man
After the escorting team left, he had to wait for a while before he finally died. His three companions were already so hard that Bailang would not collect their bodies for them, but he could collect their valuable belongings. The gang was divided into several groups and robbed along the way.
After burning and killing them, they took away some gold and silver, and Bailang accepted them.
I recommend a book called "The World of American Dramas: Beginning with the L.A. Patrol". The author makes a living from it and should be able to write well.