Speaking of which, just killing "two people" can create a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. This is also a brand new version that Su Ming has never played before.
In three minutes, he and Harley killed the angel duo nearly 200 times. The identical corpses were piled up in circular hills in all directions, and the blood even moistened the long-barren ground here, flowing along the broken asphalt. The pavement seeps into the dry soil below.
Although they are weak, they are indeed qualified as God's weapons, and their unlimited "release-zombie" alone has great potential.
Su Ming even felt that he had become a BOSS in some game. These two players wanted to kill him by piling up heads?
It's a pity that times have changed. Their method would undoubtedly have been useful a thousand years ago, but now humans have guns.
"Snapped!"
There was another gunshot, and the two angels who had just climbed onto the pile of corpses rolled down the hillside with blood pouring from their foreheads. But then another pair of them jumped out of the bushes behind the death knell and rushed over again.
The cloak behind Deathstroke spread like wings, and the black and yellow armor slowly rose into the air. After the mercenary calmly killed them again, he looked at the duo running out from behind the dead tree and shouted:
"Haven't you died enough? How about considering a deal?"
"No, we will exhaust you to death." The fat man shouted loudly, his expressionless face like a running zombie: "Heaven is not subject to any coercion, and it will not negotiate terms with mortals."
"Yes, even if it doesn't exhaust you to death, it will still annoy you to death." The thin man beside him added, and he and his good brothers charged side by side again: "Admit defeat, mortal, and our Lord will forgive your soul."
Deathstroke sighed and pulled the trigger with both hands. The two fell down again, but two new bodies jumped out from the empty pool behind the ruins of the house.
Strangler appeared to help him change the magazine, and Xiao Douya's eyes turned into dead fish shapes.
"Ugh?"
What it means is that the angels all saw the host flying out of thin air, saw themselves appearing as symbionts, saw talking orangutans, and infinite bullet weapons that were not scientific at all...
Do they still think they are dealing with mortals? Are the angels here too stupid?
"You're right, I'm just an ordinary person." Su Ming put down the angels again, put away his weapons, and then activated the yellow light ring to summon the manifestations of fear and let them play with the two of them: "That's it. It’s just a little stronger than others.”
Low-level angels are almost at the level of neighborhood vigilantes. At this level, they are just cannon fodder in a really big incident. How can they fight against the holder of the lamp ring?
Although this is another multi-dimensional system, it is still DC, and the power of the emotional spectrum cannot be compromised at all.
Then he took off the cloak behind him and let it fish Bobo and Harley out of the 'Corpse Crater'. Since the other party didn't want to talk about it yet, why not first experience the air superiority?
In a way, angel wings are actually similar to chicken wings. You can use them as they grow, but you can't live without them.
Heaven's arrival teleportation is very useful, and it is indeed faster than flying, but giving up the ability to fly is simply stupid, just like some of them no longer ride bicycles because high-speed rail is connected to the city.
.
You see, chicken wings are usually useless, but as long as they go through some other steps, they taste delicious.
"Are we just wasting our time like this? There's a lot of commotion here. Maybe the police will come soon. Let's make it clear first that I won't kill innocent people."
As long as there was a gun and enough ammunition, let alone a death knell, even Bobo felt that he could spend a whole day with them. He and Harley were carried by the flying carpet and floated next to Su Ming, sitting cross-legged, using
Supporting his head with his arms first shows that he is a good orangutan.
"Oh, that's what you're talking about. Don't worry. There are only about a hundred households in this town and there is only one sheriff. It's off duty time now." Su Ming held up the yellow light ring indifferently and looked at the strange and nightmare-like things below.
Bio-Slaughter Angel: "The one who dispatches police quickly and can stay awake is Chief Gordon. But there are no such policemen here, only a working man trying to make a living."
The total number of police officers in the United States is one million. After deducting various civilian personnel, there are still more than 600,000 left. The total population is more than 300 million, which means that every 100 citizens can only be allocated 0.2 police officers.
This is still an even distribution situation. In fact, most police forces are concentrated in big cities like New York or Los Angeles. Generally, large towns usually have only one police chief and one or two police officers, which are also somewhat remote.
The local area simply does not even have a peace officer, and relies on the local chief executive or militia organizations to maintain social order.
Seeing the two angels below trying their best to jump up and down, reaching out in vain like small animals trying to pick fruits from the tree, and even avoiding the attacks of yellow lamps and lanterns at the same time, Bobo even felt a little pitiful for them.
The orangutan was a sharp-tongued man, and he said, "That's almost enough. You've killed them hundreds of times. Let's quickly negotiate a deal and let's go have dinner."
Su Ming sighed, and it was true. After playing the game of beach landing for a long time, it was really not interesting: "Okay, today I will teach you how to deal with people with immortality. That is to make their life worse than death. It is easy."
It can break through their psychological defenses."
"Yeah, I know." Bobo yawned. He had been busy since he came out of the bar. He felt a little tired: "No matter what method you use, I just want to find a quiet place to drink and smoke.
cigarette."
Under the night, the death knell floating in the air raised a hand, and colorful lights gathered in his palm, gradually turning into a rolling sphere.
He tossed the cosmic energy ball in his hand, as if weighing the weight, and then said: "I said before, the town of Anville is a very interesting place, and the solution to the current problem is buried underground."
"You mean, the methane pit?" Harley's expression turned disgusting.
This is indeed the case. The small town of Anville was once prosperous due to the road transportation industry, but later the construction of national highways caused the place to decline rapidly. Many residents returned to their original means of livelihood, which was the breeding industry.
The land here is sparsely populated, and these Gobi deserts were lush pastures a long time ago, but now indoor captivity is the mainstream because there are more things that can create profits.
What we are talking about here is feces.
In the past, when grazing, those things were dried naturally in broad daylight, but as long as they are collected, value can be created.
There was a big landowner in the town who did this. He had several farms under his name, raised thousands of cattle, and hired many people to take care of them.
The cow dung and the town's human excrement were sent underground through the pipelines of the farm, where he built a giant sealed biogas tank the size of a town, and then sold the methane to residents as fuel to make a profit.
It sounds like a good thing for the environment, but he built the biogas digester 40 years ago, and it has never been cleaned, and there is no way to get in or out.
Over the years, countless amounts of feces have accumulated underground, forming an underground high-pressure biogas layer and a super-giant underground sea of feces that is larger than the entire town.
"I suggest you cover your noses, the next scene may be... very exciting."
Deathstroke's black and yellow mask rose, and he threw the ball of light in his hand towards the ruins of the fast food restaurant.