The Memoirs of Cultivating Immortals

Chapter 93 Four Arms
Deathstroke was once a mercenary.

He was then called Slade Joseph Wilson.

The fledgling Slade took on a mission-to kill a drug lord in a certain Golden Triangle area.

The target person has been hiding in a village in the deep mountains. In order to complete the task, Slade chose to sneak past the mountainside on a gloomy evening.

However, when going down the mountain, he met a cowherd boy, about seven or eight years old, skinny and pitifully thin—just like the old cow he herded.

Slade hesitated, and stepped aside to let him pass.

The cowherd boy drove the cattle, and ran past Slade in fear. Before leaving, he took out a small pistol from under his ragged clothes, turned around and pulled the trigger behind his back.

The gunshot rang out, and by the time Slade woke up, he had been captured by drug lords.

"Who hired you?" the drug lord asked.

Slade could see that the drug lord didn't care about the answers to the questions, he was simply enjoying the torture.

So, Slade glanced at the hastily bandaged wound and chose to remain silent.

The angry warlord ordered Slade's hands and feet to be tied up with hemp rope, and then he brought a large spherical bamboo cage, moved a large stone, and locked Slade into the bamboo cage together.

"You'll tell," the warlord said to Slade, and he stuffed a long, thin reed into Slade's mouth.

The warlord's men picked up the bamboo cage and submerged it in the emerald green pond.

This is a ditch of stagnant green, foul-smelling water, with no ripples in the breeze, and pearl-like white foam floating around the pond.

There was a layer of greasy silk floating on the surface of the water, and occasionally there was a cloud of mold transpiration, and there were tiny transparent insects floating in the water, floating in front of Slade from time to time.

He just soaked in the stagnant water, leaning on the hollow reed to stick out of the water, breathing the luxurious air.

After 24 hours, the warlord ordered the bamboo cages to be salvaged and asked the same question: "Who hired you?"

Slade remained silent, so the warlord shortened the reed with scissors and threw him back into the water.

The short cut of the reeds forced Slade to cling to the top of the bamboo cage, holding the bamboo strips with difficulty between his fingers, only in this way could he breathe air.

Twenty-four hours later, he was brought up again, the same question, and Slade was silent.

So this time, the warlord took away the reed.

Underwater, the sound of the heartbeat could be heard clearly, and Slade had nothing else to do besides counting the time through the heartbeat.

1 minute, 2 minutes, when the heart beat 160 times, the gunfire sounded.

The melee between the two factions of warlords allowed Slade to escape from death. Since then, he has developed the habit of counting his heartbeats all the time.

For example, now, in this forest, sea and snowfield, he is struggling to resist the butcher's knife, just like decades ago, counting the time by the sound of his heartbeat.

2 minutes, this short 120 seconds, every second seems to be stretched extremely long.

Claiming to be a butcher with 30.00% effort, with just a wave of his hand, he can chop down a tree as thick as three or four people hugging him.

And its butcher knife and meat hook are even more unstoppable. Deathstroke tried his best, and all he could do was to slightly deflect the opponent's attack.

The tiger's mouth burst open, and the gap between the thumb and index finger was completely stained with scarlet. Deathstroke didn't even care that his iconic black and yellow mask was damaged, and he still resisted tenaciously like a mayfly shaking a tree.

The person who fought side by side with him was Lars Gul-Eir. The leader of the assassins had a broken leg, but there was not much blood left on the cross section of the wound. In a few breaths, there was already a new life. The granulation sprouted out of the head, and the shape of the "sole" could barely be seen.

The leader of the assassins no longer had the calmness and elegance he had made in the past, and walked around the butcher with a broken sword. Although he was limping, every time he made a move, he could pierce the gap in the butcher's armor and pluck out a large piece of flesh.

"Huh, don't be An'an's livestock, but be like the Fenarm Praying Mantis!"

The butcher seemed to be annoyed by these two noisy bugs, he roared, and Yang Tian roared angrily: "The limit is lifted, 60.00%!"

The death knell was shocked, and was about to retreat, but saw sticky pink minced meat splashing out from the gaps in the butcher's shoulder armor. In an instant, the minced meat was assembled into nerves, bones, tendons, and muscles, which grew out of the shoulder blades. Two huge arms.

"What kind of monster is this-his-mother?!"

Deathstroke couldn't help but swear, which country or region has he never been to in his life?What enemy has never been faced?I have seen a lot, and I have experienced many battles.

But even he has never seen such a "creature" like a hell devil.

The price offered by the Owl Court was obviously not enough to pay for the situation in front of him. Deathstroke and Lars Gul-Air looked at each other, and they were ready to withdraw from the battlefield.

Before he could make a move, the butcher who was standing on the spot moved his four arms a little, grinned, and rushed to the death knell at a speed that didn't match his huge figure, and grabbed him with all four palms.

"Fresh flesh."

The butcher's red eyes were full of longing. It opened its bloody mouth wide, and lifted the death knell's head and feet upside down, intending to swallow it whole.

Lars Gul-Eir had already slipped away before the butcher grabbed the death knell, his body retreated violently, and he fled all the way. He knew that he was hiding in a tree in the distance, so he stared at him with frighteningly cold eyes. In the center of the battlefield.

Death Bell smiled, his mask was mottled and fragmented, revealing the face of a middle-aged man with a slightly vicissitudes.

"What are you laughing at?" asked the butcher.

"Time," Deathstroke touched his heart and closed his eyes, "it's time, you idiot."

As if responding to the call of the death knell, a light spot lit up from the extremely distant mountain pass.

AGM-114D,

This line of alphanumerics is not some mysterious code, but a heavy long-range anti-tank missile called "Longbow Hellfire".

Launched by the AH-64D Longbow Apache gunship, the millimeter-wave seeker of the warhead searched and locked the target thousands of meters away, crossed the barrier of wind and snow, and arrived at the forest, sea and snow field in the blink of an eye.

The flight speed of 390m/s has exceeded the speed of sound, and the butcher has less than three seconds to deal with it before the missile arrives.

Can't escape, the laser semi-active guidance method can track all the way, and the millimeter wave seeker can also be used as a proximity fuze, even if it is separated by a distance, it can detonate the warhead and destroy the target.

The butcher took a deep breath, threw the death knell out, rolled and slammed into the snow hard.

Scarlet eyes looked at the missile that broke through the sound barrier, and the bone-chopping steel knife attached to the chain was resolutely thrown.

The bipolar tandem shaped armor-piercing projectile installed on the missile warhead collided with the simple blade in mid-air.

(End of this chapter)