Doomsday Paradise

Chapter 1868 A Cracked Seam
Constantine has a problem, whether she is familiar with it or not, as soon as someone dies, she will forget the other person's face.Like being washed away by water, face, body, voice... will all recede from her memory.

She remembered the Madonna because she recalled the coolness of her bare feet on the floor, the weight of grabbing the coat from the floor, the sound of throwing it on the man.

That's right, there is indeed a statue of the Virgin on that bare (don't look in brackets) arm——

Just when she was slightly distracted, the makeup chair was suddenly kicked hard and hit her leg straight.

The young man exerted all his strength, as if he wanted to smash her calf bones and knees apart, knocking her out of joint; Konstantin suddenly felt pain, and before he could pull the trigger, a shadow had already counterattacked, cutting into her hand with a knife her wrist bones.

The small pistol flew out of his hand and landed a few steps away, one after another with the scorpion submachine gun that was kicked away just now, as if they were about to touch each other through the carpet.

Unlike him, Constantine never glanced up at the gun again.

Sitting in her place as a woman meant she was faster, fiercer, less merciless—harder to kill—than her male counterparts; she had already trained fighting instinctively.

As soon as the gun was out of his hand, Constantine turned around and took two steps forward, blocking his way to grab the gun with his own body.

In the quiet and narrow dressing room, the two of them are so close, they smell each other.

... This child is indeed lying, in order to distract her.The statue of the Virgin should have been seen when he killed someone.

Constantine thought almost contentedly.

He twisted his naked upper body (not seen in brackets); his clean and stretched muscles tightened and twisted under his sweaty skin.A fist sank deep into Constantine's belly, heavy and fast.

Constantine snorted slightly from his nose, but his feet still didn't move.

In her life, she has been assassinated, stabbed, and used force many times. She doesn't know when it started. She found that the harder, heavier, and closer the attack she received, the more she was able to... enter the state.

She likes pain.

The pain was like electricity, conflicting and climbing in her blood vessels, shaking her nerves like a violin string, making her whole body tremble and excited.

Before he retracted his fist, Constantine opened his arms.

She was half a head taller than him, with slender limbs, and she pulled him into her embrace lightly and effortlessly.She pressed one hand on the back of his head, and quickly slid down with the other, grabbing the side of his belt.

On the fingers on the inside of the belt, a small patch of skin above the nail, stuck in the dark heat.

With a sudden effort, she grabbed his hair with the other hand and pulled it down with the strength of pulling on the belt, telling him to lower his waist like a tango dancer, and quickly pulled the boy to the ground—his body When he fell, Constantine couldn't hold back, and let out a song from his throat.

The boy made a muffled sound on the ground.

If you love me, don't let go.catch, catch me...

Amid Constantine's half-breathing, half-whispering singing, without turning her head, she turned her hand to hold the leg of the makeup chair, and swung it across the air—the chair swung across the dressing table, and the pale powder mist, splashed The light red perfume, the golden eye shadow powder, all splashed into the air and the light - and slammed heavily on the wound on his thigh.

The boy's uncontrollable hiss of pain echoed in the small dressing room.

Seeing him unconsciously curling up and still trying to roll out, Constantine took a step and straddled him with the makeup chair.

He also realized that something was wrong, and immediately turned around and hit her calf bone with a fist.

Even though he looked like a young boy who hadn't finished growing yet, his fists were like iron stones, and the singing of Constantine changed the tone.

The pain in her legs was so painful that she couldn't stand up. As soon as she fell to the ground, she knelt and sat up, and raised the chair high to hit his head and face.

The boy turned over reluctantly, narrowly avoiding the chair with his head; the chair made a "boom" sound next to his ear.

His reaction was extremely fast, and he grabbed the chair leg with his backhand.They stared into each other's eyes tightly, and never let go; the strength of the two was clinging to each other on the chair, and they were incomparable.

Catch, hold me, I'm a little unsteady on my feet...

Constantine extended his left arm, fingertips reaching for the clothes hangers on the other side of the dressing room.Without looking at it, she grabbed the first silk bathrobe that her fingertips touched and pulled it off; her right hand let go of the chair, and immediately covered the boy's eyebrows and face with the ball of silk bathrobe.

She felt a little lost.

The chair hit her side waist, Constantine groaned and stopped singing, but his hands were still like nails, firmly nailing the bathrobe to the ground, pressing down the person underneath.

Perhaps realizing that the pounding would not work on Constantine, the boy threw the chair. Even though he couldn't see or breathe, he still reached out with two hands from below.

His body is narrow and thin, but his hands are unexpectedly large.

He closed his fingers on Constantine's neck. His fingers were tight and cold, deeply tying her trachea and blood vessels.

For a moment, both sides put in all their strength, wanting to completely crush and shatter each other's breath.The wound on his thigh was bleeding again, and the gurgling hot and humid blood stained Constantine's legs and nightgown skirt.

He was far more difficult than Constantine thought; she was the first to take it no longer, let go of her bathrobe, raised her hand in suffocating pain, and took off an earring—she fumbled with her backhand. Then, with a sharp stab, the earring needle pierced through the fabric and stuck into the wound on his thigh.

The boy let out a low cry like a wounded animal, and loosened his hands involuntarily.

Constantine seized the opportunity, stood up in a hurry, still a little stumbled, and threw herself in the direction of the gun; the boy pressed up from behind, hugged her leg, and dragged her to the ground.

"Where are your subordinates?" He asked hoarsely, "It's been so long, why haven't they come to rescue you?"

During the panting, rolling and fighting between the two, Constantine couldn't help laughing.

"Black ink?" She punched the boy, panting, "Why don't you think of a more common excuse?"

He dodged hastily, his black hair fluttered and fell down again; the next attack, he paused.

"it is true."

Constantine also paused. "Really?" The smile on her face still hasn't dissipated.

"That's why I blew up half of the second car." He was obviously dragged down by his injuries, and he probably had to talk for a while—the blood had already stained the clothes on his legs, and the words The forced panting in between was also clearly heard.

In the depths of the dark and damp mind, there are still waves of alcohol.Constantine laughed, licked his broken lips, and said in a low voice, "It won't be surprising enough the second time you listen to it."

The young man opened his mouth, and was about to speak, but suddenly stopped.

Constantine tilted her head and looked at his face almost tenderly, without being distracted by his performance at all.From the corner of her eye, she had locked onto the location of the scorpion submachine gun.

He was so brave that he looked away almost defenselessly in front of her; his neck looked clean and fragile in the light of the makeup lamp.

Even her subordinates are usually reluctant to turn their backs to her, just like the survival instinct of animals.

"You just now..." The young man didn't seem to notice her hand that was gradually sliding towards the gun, he just stared at the door and asked in a low voice, "Did you not lock the door?"

Constantine stopped.

The warm and hot wine dripped down from her skin, her cheeks, and her blood; she sat on the ground and looked at the boy opposite, gradually becoming cold and hard like a statue.

He wasn't trying to distract her; out of the corner of her eye, she saw it too.

At some point, the door of the dressing room slid open without a sound, and there was a black gap between the door and the wall.She knew that the lights in the club had been turned off; but she still felt that the narrow blackness was too dark.

Shouldn't there be nightlights, emergency lights, and moonlight outside the hallway windows?At this time, there seemed to be a long strip of thick ink stuck in the crack of the door, and he held his breath.

Most importantly, she had clearly locked the door just now.

　I just like to write/read the dark and distorted personality of the pervert, I don’t know if I have written it well... Tsugumi Uinmaru is already a pervert without a filter in his mind, and Konstantin is an even bigger pervert.I heard the song she sang, it's called unsteady, I found it when I was standing at the door when they were fighting.

Yes, the black noodle at the door is me.

　
(End of this chapter)