Acting Quest: Pin Dao is really just an actor

"silly dog!"

The skinny boy cursed, and stretched out his hand to break away from Moore's restraint, but Moore's strength was beyond his expectation, no matter how hard he tried, the big black hand seemed to be a pair of iron tongs, motionless.

Moore paid attention to his heart, raised his eyebrows violently, ignored the staff rushing over from a distance, and shouted: "You discriminate against my race!"

As he said that, the veins on Moore's arm burst into fists with one hand, and he slammed hard at the boy's face.

Feeling the whistling wind, the skinny boy's expression changed instantly, and it was too late to retreat, so he subconsciously blocked his skinny arms.

The faces of everyone in the field changed dramatically, and no one expected that Black Moore would suddenly attack.

The black-clothed man who had been sitting in the corner suddenly got up, a cold light suddenly appeared, and the Tang knife was half out of its sheath in his hand.

But it was too late, the man in black was far away from Moore, and Moore's iron fist had already fallen.

Startled by the cold light, Matsushima subconsciously grasped the samurai sword at his waist, and turned around almost instinctively.

In the blink of an eye, a slender hand quietly appeared on the path that Moore's fist must pass, and under the palm was a piece of Taoist robe hanging down.

"court death!"

Seeing Lu Chen meddling, Moore's eyes became even more fierce, and the strength in his hands was no longer reserved, and he fell heavily.

He doesn't mind being aggressive now. There are surveillance equipment in the lounge, and the abusive words of the skinny boy are all evidence. As for him, he was maliciously attacked and discriminated against by these people who didn't know what to do.

There was no loud bang or howling as expected.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, that shockingly powerful punch was... caught.

It was caught lightly by the slender and thin palm, without any shaking or trembling.

The young Taoist priest's expression was as usual, as if receiving the heavy punch was an understatement than receiving the catkin feather.

"..."

For a moment, everyone in the lounge couldn't help being shocked, including the staff who came to stop the crisis and stopped in shock.

"This... what kind of power is this?!"

Everyone swallowed hard, the two palms, one black and one white, formed an extremely sharp contrast.

Black Moore's face was pale (cough, don't ask me how I saw that...)

Even if my fist hit the pig iron, it would leave some traces, but at this time, facing the young Taoist priest, he couldn't move any further.

And the seemingly light and flimsy palm was like a high-power hydraulic machine. The edge of his fist was painful, his finger bones were faintly swollen, and his strength was constantly disappearing.

What made Moore even more terrified was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't withdraw the fist from Lu Chen's hand and couldn't move.

That thin palm seemed to have been useless...

"Chong!"

When everyone was shocked, another sound of gold and iron clashing sounded.

The young man in black was holding the Tang sword out of its sheath, the blade was pressed against the half-unsheathed samurai sword, and the point of the knife pressed tightly against Matsushima Ichiro's heart. gap.

Cold sweat fell from Matsushima Ichiro's temples, his Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, and he didn't even dare to breathe.

The man in black looked cold and his voice was low, whispering like a devil: "Are you going to block me?"

"Your Excellency, Your Excellency misunderstood."

Ichiro Matsushima struggled to utter a word, let go of the hand holding the knife, and slowly raised it above his head, not daring to move at all.

Seeing Tang Dao slowly leave his body, Ichiro Matsushima let out a sigh of relief. He really didn't lie. He really didn't want to stand up for the black ghost Moore. It's just that Matsushima, who has been practicing knives since childhood, has a kind of closeness to the light of the sword. Morbidly sensitive.

It was just an instinct to turn around and take out the knife just now, but the unremarkable man in black restrained him with one blow.

Compared with the majesty of the young Taoist priest, what the man in black gave him was the chill that was extremely close to death.

He was sure that if he had made a slight movement just now, the Tang knife would have been inserted into his heart without reservation.

Isn't it just a D-rank secret realm? Who the hell are this...

And because of Moore, the dead ghost, both of them were offended indirectly.

Ichiro Matsushima wiped off the cold sweat on his forehead with a sad and desperate expression.

"Chong!"

It wasn't until Tang Dao was sheathed that everyone's breathing recovered. The man in black and Lu Chen looked at each other, and then returned to the corner under everyone's gaze, holding Tang Dao in his arms, eyes slightly closed.

Ichiro Matsushima's crisis is over, but Moore is extremely uncomfortable.

Black Moore felt as if his right finger bone was about to be crushed by the young Taoist priest, and it hurt so badly, but the young Taoist priest still didn't intend to let go.

As before, Lu Chen's eyes brightened, majesty involuntarily exuded, and his voice was thunderous: "Idiot, you really treat me as the law of my ancient country, and don't blame you, a foreigner?!"

"Uh--!"

Moore let out a muffled grunt, and his black-painted arm muscles trembled under the gradually increasing pain.

Chapter 14 The Rising Undercurrent [Big Chapter! 】

The severe pain caused fine beads of sweat to appear on Moore's forehead, and his face was extremely ugly.

The middle-aged man in charge of order sighed beside Lu Chen: "The show is about to start, don't make things difficult for me."

Glancing at the helpless eyes of the middle-aged man, the young Taoist slowly withdrew his strength.

Moore, who was freed from restraint, was granted amnesty. In order not to lose his dignity as a "master", he endured the pain and looked at Shen Yi who was hiding behind Lu Chen. A sullen look flashed across his black face, and he snorted coldly: "Bichi !"

"Bichi who doesn't know what's good or bad!"

"Still hiding behind a beggar, do you think I will really take a fancy to you?"

Moore snorted coldly, with contempt and disgust on his face: "In this city, if I want a woman, I just hook my fingers, whether it's money or desire, a group of girls will voluntarily send them up, and you deserve it too?"

After saying this, the black shadows behind Moore trembled violently, filled with resentment, and struggled to pounce on the black man, but they were bounced off by a gleam of light before entering the body, and could only linger behind Moore, glaring endlessly.

Lu Chen looked at the restless souls behind the black men, his eyes gradually turned cold.

Although Moore spoke fiercely, his feet kept moving back, trying to stay away from Lu Chen and avoid the attack range of the young Taoist priest.

He really didn't understand how a weak Taoist priest in the late stage of Gang Qi could have such terrifying power.

He had an illusion, if Lu Chen hadn't let go, would the bone in his right hand have been crushed?