87_87643When Forty-Seven unhurriedly chased to the front hall of the Cat's Paw Tavern, there was already a miasma of black smoke.

He saw Parkman's figure flickering at the corner door, and he stepped after him. During this time, two bodyguard-looking men rushed over with sticks to stop them, probably at Parkman's behest - one of them rolled under the bar with a crisp fractured sound from his neck after being slapped, and the other took the opportunity to hit Forty-Seven, but immediately flew out of the fog, as if he had been provoked by a mammoth.

There are not many guys left in the hall of the Cat's Paw Tavern now, and the clever ones will slip away when the sound of shouting and fighting comes from behind, even if they are dull in their brains, when they see the elite Parkman of the Shirek Church stumbling out, they can understand what is going on - in a place like the Cat's Paw Hotel, which has been semi-openly controlled by the Dark Sun Church, such a situation would mean a full-scale war, and if you don't leave quickly, you still have to stay and pick up the loot?

So the rest are either squeezed and injured in the headless fly-like run, unable to distinguish between the southeast and the northwest, and can only scream in fright (basically women), or they drank too much before, and now they are still stunned and don't know what to do and what they want to do (all of them are men, and if women drink like this, they don't know where to be dragged to be happy).

Forty-seven smashed a stool that had fallen in front of him, and walked through the tavern lobby as if no one was around. A drunken man who seemed to be unconscious on the bar suddenly stood up the moment Forty-Seven walked over and exposed his back to him, twisting and turning as if he were jumping out of water. The movement was smooth and swift, and the short sword in his hand had sliced into Forty-Seven's back in a flash of cold light - the blade pierced the warrior's leather armor and the skin of the shapeshifter in the leather armor without hindrance, and then the spine should be amputated, and the lung lobes and heart should be cut in two.

Unfortunately, there was a harsh sound of metal grinding. Forty-seven shook his hand back without looking back, his shoulder joint like a free-spinning ball with no limit at all, and the head of the Shirek killer spun out like a whipped spinning top—a fitting hanging from the horns of the bison's skull that was decorated by the bar, staring blankly at the hollow sockets of the bull's head with his eyes that he didn't understand what was going on. The headless body shook a few times, and almost collapsed on the bar in the same disguised posture as before, this time it was really forever unconscious.

Now is not the time to play with such small characters. Parkman's form had been out of his field of vision for a while, though only in pretended pursuit. But you have to put some pressure on your prey.

I don't know if it's because there are no more people from the Shirek church among the rest of the people, or if Forty-Seven's crisp slaughter has a deterrent effect, anyway, no one dares to stop Forty-Seven's footsteps anymore, and the half-naked dancer who is crouched in the corner is only dutifully playing the role of the screaming queen there.

When Forty-Seven pushed open the corner door, he turned his head to look at the woman, and his heart was a lot happier. I'm going to kill everyone if I'm playing Jason right now - but that starts with a hockey mask and a strong machete.

I love Jason. I love Mike. I love every taciturn, unstoppable homicidal maniac. Forty-seven walked down the narrow hallway thinking, as if he had just found a random door to kick away, and then entered a dark room.

The darkness didn't affect Forty-Seven's eyesight at all, and his red eyes weren't just the color of a normal person. The room is not big. There was nothing to hide, and the splinter of windows on the messy bed proved that someone had probably just jumped out of the window to escape, and the half-covered filthy curtains were whirring and waving in the night breeze blowing indoors, and there seemed to be a faint shout, but Forty-Seven didn't care about that.

Instead of chasing him out of the window, he threw the mallet in his hand and threw it at the floor—the force of the hammer did not make a large hole in the floor from which the groundwater could be drawn. Instead, it spread out in a ring and blew up large boards of wood, and the thunderous boom looked like a sonic boom spell.

A dazed head is exposed on the edge of a notch in the floor, creating a rather eerie picture. Flying sawdust pierced the head's blood. He looked up at the strange figure that came by in a daze, and even forgot to scream - it was a rare thing to be able to remain basically awake under the impact of the mace.

In fact, before Forty-Seven entered the room, he saw the humanoid hiding under the floor, and the heat emitted by the warm-blooded animal made him a light in the darkness among the various shades of gray-black blocks around him. While Forty-Seven's gaze with a thermal observer-like effect might not be able to penetrate something as heavy as an iron wall, the walls and floors of the rooms in the Cat's Paw Tavern were a little too poor and a little thin.

"Parkman told you to wait for me here? He actually ran down there, didn't he?" Forty-Seven bent down slightly and lifted the guy's ear to pull him up from the hole, but the guy just stared at Forty-Seven's dead man's face that looked like he had had a stroke.

Realizing that the creature had been so shocked that he couldn't hear what he was saying, Forty-Seven casually threw him out of the broken window - his ears hadn't fallen out of the force yet. I really have to admire that the human body is much stronger than imagined.

Then Forty-Seven stepped into the great hole in the floor, and he didn't bother to look for the entrance to the underground passage that he didn't know where to hide—a man who seemed to be famous once said that there was no road in the world. When there are more people walking, it becomes a road...... That's probably what it means.

He stomped the floor underneath it, revealing a deep underground passage. I can't see Parkman's figure, although he was sent to the "electric chair" by Morriel to enjoy it once, but it doesn't seem to affect his escape speed at all, and it seems that the death penalty is the safest thing to behead.

"Little Red Riding Hood, Fish-Man, Mage, Ciric...... As far as I know, the oil resources were completely depleted after the second fuel war. Forty-seven walked forward with a self-muttering voice. Darkness and gravel were no different to him than a gentle drizzle.

The passage should have led all the way out of the Cat's Paw Tavern, and perhaps after a few turns it had come into the street—Forty-Seven could feel a tremor overhead, as if a lot of people had run by. He resisted the urge to rush up and blow the group of creatures that trampled on his head away, and continued to follow Parkman's trail through the long, muffled underground passageway, or try to drive him back to the deeper, more secret lair of the Shirek Church, and then follow the vine.

It seemed that the deeper he went, the wetter the walls became—Forty-Seven wondered if he was heading toward the bottom of the sea, could it be that there was a Fish-Man Island underneath Deep Stream? There was a rotting wind blowing across the passage, though Forty-Seven had no real meaning

Cavity. But you can still smell the stench in the air, and it feels like a large underground graveyard.

Finally saw the exit. Forty-seven jumped and splashed a large black splash - it was not accurate to say that it was a splash, it was simply a pot of thick soup formed by how many garbage and filth were mixed for an unknown amount of time, even the demons of the abyss would avoid it, the smell of Forty-Seven's foot alone was comparable to ten or eight stinky clouds, and the liquid that stained the black stone wall turned into a paste and slowly trickled down by its own gravity, and it dried up before it could flow far, adding a lot of dirt to the stone wall that anyone would be disgusting to see.

"If there's anyone following. I must not be silent. Forty-seven walked ashore with a kne-deep turbid soup, in fact, it was also a ground made of a large number of solid garbage of all kinds, soaked in the wanton flow of sewage and inseparable, and it was slightly elastic when you stepped on it.

Forty-seven glanced at the darkness, and in front of him was an irregular cave that I didn't know whether it had been dug by hand or formed naturally, the stone pillars and garbage divided it like a labyrinth, and there were many holes in the cave walls, which seemed to be the www.biquge.info of more complex passages. God knows which one Parkman got into - it looks like the forty-seven trail is coming to an end.

The grinding sound of something crawling in the depths of the garbage heap sounded like a large pile of semi-solid stuff flowing towards it. Forty-seven turned around and saw a super maggot with an incredibly obese Cheng dù crawling towards him. It half-raised its head. There was bubbling mucus beneath it, dozens or even hundreds of finger-thick tentacles writhing back and forth around the head, and the toothless flesh hole with layers of folds in the middle couldn't tell whether it was a mouth or a door—it wasn't until it suddenly turned its head and opened the flesh hole to suck it into the ground, and when it lifted it up again, it had swallowed a large piece of garbage, and forty-seven thought it was a mouth.

The giant maggot squirmed and swallowed the garbage in its mouth. In the end, he sucked in half of his rotten thigh like a noodle, and I don't know which one was killed and thrown into the unlucky bastard.

Forty-seven didn't know this disgusting monster commonly known as the Rotting Dung Monster. They carry deadly germs and toxins and treasure anything that stinks. Even if you can't eat it, you have to pull it up and eat it, and when you finally finish eating, you will find that your excrement is being eaten in large chunks as a newfound delicacy. If Morriel had never allowed Forty-Seven to fight the Dung Rot, she would have scorched the big worm with a sea of fire to prevent it from splashing a drop of bodily fluids - but since Forty-Seven was alone now, when the Dung Crouch attacked while vomiting, he simply threw his fists at it.

The dung-decaying monster's stubble-like body was an illusion, but it was actually extremely agile and powerful. As soon as it stretched out, its fat body enveloped Forty-Seven, and if the opponent was a human, it would have gained an overwhelming advantage with its corrosive bodily fluids and diffuse stench.

But Forty-Seven was never rough. He burst out from the other side of the dung monster's body—tearing through flesh nearly ten feet in diameter like tearing through a piece of papyrus. The dung rot let out a bubbling cry of mud and writhed wildly in pain, and a large chunk of stinking stuff from the wound with the stinking stuff of the organs it had eaten, and it was still squirting as the shroud's body contracted.

True***. Now forty-seven is completely different. The body was covered in the bodily fluids of the carrion, and the limited recovery ability of the shapeshifter's skin could not withstand such a toss, and the wounds that had not yet healed had begun to rot like stinky meat that had been sitting for months, and a large piece could be dropped by rubbing it.

Forty-seven hesitated for a moment, he could imagine Moriel's reaction to seeing him like this—but not to go back. There doesn't seem to be much to do now.

The rotting dung monster doesn't seem to hurt anymore. It spun around a few times, and suddenly found that its internal organs were flowing out, and immediately diverted its hostility towards Forty-Seven, and began to taste the "good meal."

Forty-seven took a few steps away, not wanting to disturb it. Anyway, this guy also contributes to the purification of the environment.

At the moment when he was undecided, a strange and somewhat familiar feeling suddenly permeated his entire body. It was as if every sliding shaft, every gear, and every lever was making a slight tremor and roar, and even made Forty-Seven tremble a little involuntarily—these small tremors combined to form a torrent-like shock, a strange and special feeling that Forty-Seven remembered seemed to have experienced. But for a while, I couldn't remember when or where, and this vague memory experience was something that Forty-Seven had never experienced.

A coal-like gaze burned in the darkness.

Forty-Seven spun its head like an all-angle turret.

He quickly chose a direction and made great strides - although he was not so sure, if he wanted to figure out something, he could not rely on it, but always act on his own.

With a new purpose, Forty-Seven's movements were naturally much faster, and he jumped between the ditch and the garbage. Entering from one cave to another, agile as a great horse monkey swaying in the forest—suddenly he stopped. A man in black armor was oddly stacked on the edge of a stone pillar, with a flail burning with black runes, the standard equipment of Priest Ciric.

There he was with his eyes wide open and his mouth wide open. His eyes were gone, his tongue was gone, and perhaps his internal bones were gone—as evidenced by the large thick, black clot of blood in front of him—forty-seven could tell that there were a large number of small pieces of flesh mixed with it.

Someone else playing a game of cat and mouse with the Shireks here?Forty-Seven looked into the deeper, darker corridor ahead. It suddenly felt like it might be the wrong choice to just settle everyone in the tavern with no choice - someone was coming to grab the toys now.

Turning two more corners, a larger underground cavern appeared in front of me.

"Demon! Demon—" A warrior ran over from the opposite side screaming wildly, ignoring the fact that Forty-Seven was standing in his way. Waving his arms and shouting as he ran for his life.

"What demon?" Forty-Seven reached out and grabbed the guy from the chain mail, making him stop and face him.

Unfortunately, two interviews with the Shirek failed to yield the desired answer.

"Demon, demon!" was so frightened that the warrior turned a blind eye to the ugly face of Forty-Seven, and he danced with his hands, probably not even realizing that he had been caught. His eyes were rolling rapidly, not knowing what he was looking at - maybe he hadn't seen anything.

Forty-seven let him go with some meaning, and the warrior immediately fled for his life. Let him be. Even if Forty-Seven kindly told him that there was a rotting dung monster on his road, it is estimated that he would not listen.

You have to see and see - forty-seven are gearing up, looking forward to appreciating the ability to bring Chang and the lower level

What does the demon that the Shirek creature deal with look like when he is mad, he has a demon.

Turning around a pile of garbage, a human face appeared in front of Forty-Seven, and it seemed that he could spray Forty-Seven's face with a sneeze. The face was a veritable one, for it hung alone on a rusty iron drill peeking out of the garbage heap, and there was nothing else attached to it, like a mask hanging in a store waiting to be sold, of course the workmanship was rough, the torn edges were not taken care of, the chin was dripping with blood, the nose was sunken back like a leaky ball, and the two hollow eye holes stared at Forty-Seven with resentment, and Forty-Seven could peek into the scenery behind them through these two eye sockets。

There's a demon there.

Although it looked like a large spider, its hooked appendages with thick fluff, its dripping venom stings, and especially the wicked and cruel gaze on its head that only abyssal creatures could possess, revealed its identity as a demon hunting spider.

But Forty-Seven saw something more in those eyes. As a cunning abyssal monster that can even hunt demons for food, the restless appearance of the Demon Hunting Spider is really rare. It was already covered with sticky cobwebs all around, and it looked like it had reached the limit of what it could use in a day. But the webs were clearly not meant to catch anyone, as the only person alive now was the leader of the Shireks, Packman, who was by no means weak, and he was still standing outside the range of the webs, turning his head back and forth with a dagger in his hand, not knowing what he was looking for.

It seems that the Demon Hunter Spider must have been summoned by Parkman's gang, otherwise they would never have failed to attack him. Who are they dealing with? There are still a few corpses of the Shirek in the cobwebs, all of which must have been killed by that mysterious enemy--Forty-Seven suddenly remembered that Parkman couldn't die, otherwise how could he lead them to the lair of the Shirek church?

"What am I missing?" Forty-Seven rubbed his hands together and swaggered out.

Suddenly, he was stunned. The throbbing in the body reappeared. And even more violently. He remembered that this feeling had appeared when he had first seen Argus construct weapons, when he had absorbed the Iron Colossus underground of the Tower of Seven Sins as a new body to rush out of the Floating Tower, and when he had traveled to the stronghold of the red-robed mage in a carriage with Moriel the day before yesterday - it was a resonance, a resonance that originated from the depths of the Demon Suit Body, and Forty-Seven now felt it clearly.

Somewhere in the cavern there was a stirring at the same time, like a stone being thrown into the calm water.

The Demon Hunter Spider that had been wandering there leaped like a real spider, not to attack. It was to escape—but unfortunately, it landed right in the middle of Forty-Seven and the strange void. And before the eight powerful long legs of the Demon Hunting Spider contracted again to launch the next jump, Forty-Seven's gaze was already on here. Although it wasn't actually looking at it, it was two points of light that suddenly appeared in the void opposite the Demon Hunter.

The pair of points of light were faintly blue, suspended there like a pair of eyes.

The Eyes Land Master and Forty-Seven looked at each other, and in the middle was a tight Demon Hunting Spider with a tense whole body - the red and blue eyes were like invisible chains, tightly binding this one from the Abyss Otherworld, which could make the vast majority of people in Deep Flow City fearful. But now it's clear that he's scared of the arachnid.

Parkman quietly retreated, and now he didn't matter—in fact, he never mattered.

"Who do you think you are?Predator?" Forty-Seven said suddenly, thinking there were a lot of cosplay guys tonight.

I don't know if it's because he vented his momentum when he spoke, or if the demon hunting spider thinks that forty-seven who is still standing there is easier to deal with. The Spider Demon lunged at Forty-Seven—its petal-like mouth wide open enough to bite off his head, and the magic light around the Demon Hunter flickered like never before, and it was desperate to get back to the abyss completely.

Forty-seven didn't do anything. He didn't have time to do it.

The menacing huge body of the Demon Hunter Spider shook violently in midair, making an inappropriate analogy. It's like having a burp after you've eaten your fill. The round belly with thorny hairs exploded, and spilled out massive pieces of gray flesh that looked like jet engines. At the same time, its entire body also swelled a little, and the power that the Demon Hunting Spider had originally condensed in its whole body was suddenly withdrawn, and its limbs and claws also hung down softly, and it flew towards Forty-Seven with only the momentum of its body.

When he was about to enter the forty-seven attack range, the poor demon hunting spider was completely finished. It was as if a large number of invisible blades had pierced through its body, and then the demon's entire body was stretched open by something that had just been drilled into, and pieces of flesh were cut apart and farther and farther away from each other, and the famous abyssal hunter was torn apart.

With such a strange and brutal killing method, this demon hunting spider is afraid that it will be half-crippled even if it returns to the abyss.

The invisible killer appeared in the black blood mist that burst through the Demon Hunter Spider. Pieces of transparent blades were stained with blood, like flying butterflies, and as the blades sprayed in front of Forty-Seven with blood, it was a translucent human woman in the shape of a flying blade that stuck back to her, each of which kept changing shape in motion, and finally became a strange metal armor that materialized? , and the woman's slender and toned body is also completely revealed in this almost liquid-like flowing, extremely aesthetic deformation structure, the exposed metal skin is silky and shiny, and the blood of the demon hunting spider oozes through the gaps of the tight blade armor, floating on her body in various strange patterns, as if the blood of the demon nourishes this transcendent demonic being.

This qiē actually happened in a short moment before flying in front of Forty-Seven. Forty-seven didn't hesitate to swing his fist and hit it directly, and the force was light enough to kill a grizzly bear. But the Bladed Woman didn't choose to fight hard. Instead, it flew up like a feather under the wind pressure of Forty-Seven's fist, and turned over in mid-air, and when it fell, the two toned thighs had tightly clamped Forty-Seven's head - at this time, the feather turned into a deadly iron plier, and the woman twisted her hands on the ground with the help of her waist, and even Forty-Seven's neck, which could be turned at will like a wheel, made a crisp metal cracking sound because of the tremendous force of this moment, and if you look at human logic, his neck bone has been broken.

The woman exerted her strength again, and with a twist of her waist, her legs lifted and threw Forty-Seven far away. She lay on the filthy garbage like a cat, and the filthy demon's blood had been shaken off all over her body. A pair of dark blue eyes looked at Forty-Seven who had fallen into the garbage heap, and finally some blades that flew as thin as cicada wings actually formed the shape of a pair of beautiful wings and tucked into the woman's back blades.

Forty-seven climbed up with his back to her, and all the while he kept his eyes glued to the pretty woman, who had the same metal body as himself. She was much more delicate than Forty-Seven, and it was hard to tell how her steel skin was different from a real girl without looking closely, and her hair was short

A piece of ground, only the cold light that flowed from it could make people see that it was actually a thin silver needle.

"Are you the one in the hollow of the Sleeping Forest?" Forty-Seven turned, a movement that made his neck grind against his teeth. The human fur coat was even more tattered.

The woman didn't answer, wondering if she didn't realize it or didn't think Forty-Seven was her kind at all. She slapped her hands, and the entire garbage pile shook the ground, and at the same time, the woman also got up from the ground, and her hands were stretched out and spun towards Forty-Seven, as fast as a high-speed spinning drill, and the ten-finger fingertips also stretched out sharp as knives and swirled with metal spikes, looking like a blooming flower of death.

The Demon Hunter Spider must have been drilled into her body like this.

But Forty-Seven didn't want to merge with a woman to become Wu Tianx. He rose to the occasion. One punch shattered the swordflower, but once again the foe showed her ghostly ability to levitate, and she bent and somersaulted again. As soon as his hands pressed on Forty-Seven's arms, he took advantage of the momentum to fly over Forty-Seven's head, and when he fell, he grabbed his throat with one hand and grabbed his waist with the other, and the long needle-piercing nails naturally pierced deeply into these two vital parts. Then he threw Forty-Seven, who was much taller than her, out.

"!" Forty-Seven got up from the garbage heap again, and when he looked up, his opponent had leapt into the air and lunged down - he didn't meet it head-on this time. Instead, he slammed his fist into the ground.

The tremendous force spread around Forty-Seven, as if a powerful bomb had been detonated underground. The stirred up garbage stones rushed upwards like an upside-down black torrent.

Such a large-scale attack was of course nothing to the metal woman, but after all, it also affected her movements a little. Forty-Seven then rushed forward and knocked her down with a punch, but the woman raised her hand in time to block the blow, and in the process of falling, she had turned from losing her balance to bending lightly to the ground, so it seems that Forty-Seven has not scored in either boxing or wrestling.

The woman sped up. Her acceleration was not as simple as the mage's "acceleration technique", but the flash teleportation that was almost doppelganger-when Forty-Seven punched her to the left, she on the right had already stabbed her wrist blade under his armpit, and the strong wind formed by Forty-Seven's punch and the sonic boom brought by the woman's high-speed movement formed a terrible storm around the two people who were fighting, and the tremendous power formed by this absolute speed and power shook the entire cavern, and spread far away, like an earthquake.

In fact, Forty-Seven is the one who has the upper hand.

There were more and more wounds on his body, and the skin of the shapeshifter had been shattered, hanging on his body one by one, gradually torn apart by the stormy air flow between the two. It's just that he doesn't care, he is very angry now, those wounds that are fatal enough to be placed on other people's bodies seem to him to have no zài at all, just a single-minded pursuit of the metal woman who cut him again and again—and the woman freely combines the diametrically opposite states of being as light as nothing, as soft as a boneless, as strong as a thousand pounds, and sharp as a knife, and strikes the furious forty-seven with ease.

After the woman inserted the finger knife into her ribs, barely even entering her slender palm, Forty-Seven finally seized the opportunity. He clamped the woman's hand, smirked and slammed the bridge of her straight nose with his head, and found that the effect was not obvious, and then bit her slender neck, and the cascading sharp teeth staggered and tore at the woman, like a ferocious beast.

The metal woman spoke up for the first time. She screamed, and the clear syllables resounded through the cavern, and at the same time broke free from Forty-Seven's mouth—the flying blade appeared again, slicing Forty-Seven's mouth and leaving a dozen wounds on him. However, Forty-Seven still held on to her and refused to let go, so the woman's arms became as smooth as fluid in countless subtle configurations, and she bent her body and pressed on Forty-Seven's chest, straightening up and finally out of his grasp.

Forty-seven eyes were burning—what was a chin split? He pounced on the woman again—this time he simply replaced the weapon of mass destruction from his fist to his mouth, and his cheeks, which had been torn, opened even wider, and more and sharper teeth grew out, and he must eat the woman in front of him alive.

The woman's blue eyes also lit up, and unlike the red of the flames of the forty-seven abysses, her eyes contained the glow of the stars.

The woman's body, along with all the floating blades around her, flickered for a moment, and then these rays quickly converged into her virtual palm, forming a spectacle of ten thousand meteors converging one point. Then the vortex of light that the stars had converged swirled around and erupted from her palm, as if a galaxy had been born on a very small scale.

The aurora that gathered in the sea of stars hit Forty-Seven, engulfing him at once.

Everywhere the starlight went, every qiē was silently purified and decomposed, and only countless small explosions occurred on Forty-Seven's body - he was pushed far away, wrapped in a ruined ball of light, and crashed into the rock wall, and the karst wall collapsed.

The woman's whole body darkened slightly. She stared at the huge cavity formed by the melting rock wall at the end of the long burn marks on the ground, as if she thought her enemies would survive such a terrifying attack.

She guessed right, the enemy still survived.

Forty-seven stood up. Although his current appearance was even worse than when he first left the Mage Tower and entered Rain City, his body was even thinner from the light explosion, and there was hardly a single intact place on his body, and in some places he could even see the skeleton under the shell - but he still didn't care about it, just let out bursts of cold and piercing anger at the metal woman.

"You bastard. ”

He suddenly bent to the left, and his right shoulder exploded. It wasn't an explosion, it was a massive amount of metal parts that came out of the body to assemble and assemble. Then the spectacle erupted all over his body, shoulders, back, chest, legs, hands, and even deformed and terrifying, and the continuous sound of metal structures sounded like thousands of sharks munching at the same time.

Forty-Seven didn't morph into a Construct Giant or a Steel Dragon—since none of his opponents did so, perhaps he felt that he was losing his identity as a head-to-head duel by becoming gigantic first. The intricate joints of the metal form powerful armor-like muscles that heal all wounds on the body.

And the metal woman did not take this opportunity to attack, but waited for it.

By the time the preparations were complete, Forty-Seven was much taller than before, and his whole body was almost the same as when he was in the form of a giant—inverted triangle with majestic shoulders, sharp spikes, and intertwined exoskeletons and muscles.

He smirked at his enemies.

"Now, 100 percent ......"

The latest chapter of the high-speed debut magic costume, this chapter is the fifth chapter to go to the north twenty-seventh round forty-seven bride address is.