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618 kink 2

Without even making a sound, the black man with the black knife fell down and lost his breath.

Black Knife's people suddenly cursed one after another.

Bang!

There was another gunshot, actually two guns fired at the same time, and the two bullets were shot in the direction where Garen was dodging on both sides, leaving no room for him to dodge.

Bang bang!!

Two more wine bottles exploded behind Garen, and no one could see clearly how he dodged.

"What the hell!" The Black Knife leader's face changed slightly, as if he thought of a possible group, and quickly nodded towards his companion on the right.

That means being cruel.

Suddenly a red light suddenly lit up.

Boom!!

Four groups of red and dazzling fire streams suddenly exploded around the entire bar, centered around Galleon.

The leader of the Black Knife flew forward suddenly, firing wildly with both guns in his hands like raindrops. At the same time, he made complex and mysterious evasive gestures with great quality.

Outside the bar, you could vaguely hear the sound of a large group of people gathering, whether it was people from the original color or from other forces.

"Is there anything else interesting?" Garen's voice suddenly came from behind him.

The leader of the Black Knife was so frightened that he rolled forward and rushed directly into the sea of ​​fire. He even fired two shots in his backhand without even looking at it. He flew up in one stride and passed through the glass window covered with black cloth in the bar.

With a crash, he rolled onto the street a few times and then turned over.

But suddenly he found that his chest hurt a little. He looked down and saw a faint scarlet blood in the center of the white shirt he was wearing.

The blood color is getting thicker and thicker, and it is getting bigger and bigger. It is rapidly expanding in all directions.

"When?..." He opened his eyes wide and tried to remember, but he had no idea when he was shot. The severe pain and the suffocation that made his lungs completely unable to breathe quickly filled the air. He staggered and held on to the street lamp.

Zhu. His eyes soon began to turn faintly black.

When he finally fell to the ground, he vaguely saw Garen carrying someone out of the bar. The entire bar was ablaze, and no one came out.

As soon as Garen walked out, he saw a large number of people rushing towards him. Some were holding knives and others were holding guns. The scene was a bit chaotic.

He looked back at the bar while carrying a person, and changed his steps a few times. He quickly turned to the side of the bar, where a little black boy looked at him blankly, standing in the alley at a loss.

Garen carried the man covered in blood, smiled at him, and walked towards the back of the bar.

The large crowd outside the alley behind him seemed to have not seen him at all, and the situation of turning a blind eye to him was extremely strange.

Crossing the alley, a bald man with blood-stained arms and two people were waiting behind him. They also drove two cars.

"Boss." The bald head bowed his head respectfully in greeting. The other two also bowed their heads.

"Deal with this person. This guy is Vincent's representative. I let him escape as the representative of the original color. You can contact him later." Garen threw the person in his hand to the ground.

He noticed that there were people looking at them from a distance.

"Get in the car and get out of here."

"Boss, the people inside...?" The bald man swallowed his saliva and looked at the burning bar.

"Isn't it in front of you?" Garen replied casually.

The meaning is very obvious, the only person left. The old man who has shown his original color is represented by Vincent who was caught in front of him.

The bald head was a bit scary. The Black Knife Mercenary Group, which was only slightly weaker than their Nighthawks, actually didn't even last a minute under the boss and was completely dead. This means...

"Get in the car." He didn't think about it anymore and turned around and got into the car with the person in hand.

Two white cars accelerated slowly, one behind the other, and drove away from the back of the bar.

On the other side, half of a black man's face slowly emerged from the entrance of an alley.

The black man's forehead was covered with beads of sweat. He didn't even dare to take a big breath, so he could only hold his breath tightly.

"Three minutes...and twelve seconds..." he said with a bitter voice.

There were several other deputies in the alley who had not entered the bar at all.

The girl dressed in ol' attire turned pale, and her hands unconsciously clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched.

"Fortunately, we didn't go in." The man wearing glasses said solemnly. "Now we should inform the bosses of each family."

The rest of the people nodded, no one wanted to face the ordinary-looking blond young man.

It was as if that guy was out for a walk. He went into a bar, and bullets were flying everywhere. There were explosions everywhere, but he walked out without any damage or even his clothes messed up.

"Where's Leiber?"

"The only clue to the mystery is in the hands of Cohen, and he is still tracking Cohen." The girl whispered. "Things are beyond our control. The people of Black Knife are dead. Nighthawk's strength is far beyond our imagination.

, I suggest informing Vincent’s big boss.”

"Have you found out the details of that person before?" someone asked.

"I'm just excluding the movements and whereabouts of a famous person in the world around me, but if this person appears suddenly, there's nothing I can do." The girl shook her head.

"I'm afraid not. Those people are just ordinary people. According to the rules, they cannot interfere with the order of the normal world at will." Glasses whispered.

"Why don't you just quit?" The black man wiped the sweat from his face. "We don't need to risk our lives for a mythical legend. Report the timing and situation to the superiors and let the superiors send more people to deal with it."

Several other people exchanged glances, and they all saw the bitterness in each other's eyes.

It is indeed possible to report them, but it also means that all their previous efforts and losses have been in vain, and being dismissed from their position is considered a light punishment.

"I'm afraid there's no need..." the ol girl said suddenly.

"The latest news is that Cohen and Leiber chased into a remote village. There is an ancient power entrenched in that village. The secret of the lucky stone clock seems to have aroused their interest."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. But it's always a good thing. It seems that the secret of the lucky stone clock may have finally attracted some people's attention."

"I heard that as an archaeologist, Cohen knew many seemingly mysterious people. The village he ran to this time may be where his friends are." Eyes frowned.

"I think it's best for us not to get involved and wait until they decide the winner." The girl smiled bitterly. "The situation is getting more and more complicated, and there are more and more forces involved."

The rest of the people nodded.

************************

In the pitch black darkness, an old man with an old face gently lit a yellow oil lamp, and the dim yellow flame slowly illuminated the scene inside the wooden house.

The circular window has cross-shaped wooden bars, and there is a faint moonlight shining in from outside.

The old man looked back at the bed in the wooden house, where a black figure was lying.

He was a man, wearing a black leather jacket. His body was in tatters, with wounds and bloodstains everywhere, especially on his face, which was almost disfigured. However, through the scars, it could be seen that he was originally a middle-aged man with a good appearance.

.

"Well..." The man woke up from the bed. "How long have I slept? Rosdam."

"It didn't take long, about five hours or so." The old man turned back and smiled, his wrinkled face like a blooming chrysanthemum.

"Okay, chrysanthemum...why do I think of this plant every time I see you?" The man touched his head and smiled bitterly, "It seems that your situation is not very good either."

"I'm just a little better than you." The old man shook his head, picked up the oil lamp and walked to the bed. "I told you, don't come to me until the last moment. Because I may not only be unable to help you, but I may also give you help."

Bringing greater danger.”

"Of course I remember." The man smiled bitterly, "But I really have no choice now, and I have no way out." He buried his head deeply, holding his hair with both hands, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"It seems that you are indeed in a bad situation." The old man shook his head helplessly, "Friend, my situation is not much better than yours. If you don't mind, just stay here with me."

"I hope you can give me some inspiration." The man raised his head with a hint of hope.

"It's useless." The old man shook his head, "A powerful force surrounds me, and I can't use enlightenment." He looked at the man, "Cohen, you will understand soon, no matter whether enlightenment appears or not, the result will be

Nothing can be changed.”

"Are we seeing fixed results?" Cohen asked rhetorically.

"It's not fixed, but inevitable. It's a positive and negative inference obtained by collecting information from nature. You have to understand that there is no accident in this world. The so-called accident is just the final result of the inevitable combination of martial arts." Old man Rosdam.

He said with a wrinkled face.

"Anyway, I'm relying on you. I have nowhere to go." Cohen was silent for a while, but still said with a smile.

"Is Liv dead?" The old man looked into his eyes and found that he was evading and avoiding his sight. "Not just Liv, but also Corella and Byrne."

There was a deathly silence.

"It seems that your situation really can't get any worse. Then come with me." The old man shook his head, "Just being able to die peacefully can sometimes be a good result."

"What are you talking about?" Cohen asked.

"Nothing." Rosdam put down the oil lamp, took out a vial filled with fireflies, and carefully poured the fireflies into an earthen jar.

The strange thing is that the fireflies in the earthen jar flickered and flew away without knowing it.

He picked up the stone pestle and began to grind the fireflies carefully, and occasionally sprinkled some unknown powder into it.

"What are you doing?" Cohen noticed his strange behavior.

Rosdam smiled mysteriously and did not answer.

Cohen got up from the bed slumped, picked up a bowl of mushy yellow stuff next to him, and drank it all in one gulp.

He couldn't even remember how long he had been chased by Leiber. The two had gone through countless hardships in the wilderness, fighting each other, and their hatred had become so condensed that it could not be broken down. One of the two of them was destined to die before the end came.

(To be continued...)


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