Marvel, who rescued him? !

George was wearing a police uniform and walking near the residential area of ​​53rd Avenue and 89th Street in Queens.

It was getting dark, and there had just been an attack on a woman with a slit. I wanted to dig around and get some clues, but I didn't expect that after I found out that someone had been attacked nearby, all the surrounding residents closed their doors and windows, and the streets became more depressed than ever before.

Looking at the deserted neighborhood around him, George couldn't help but think: I wonder what the situation is like over there with Harry?

The police district was short of manpower, so the two partners had to split up. Harry drove to Midtown alone to accept his challenge.

This incident of the rip girl brought unprecedented pressure to the entire police department. All police officers were dispatched collectively, covering the entire New York like a big net, treating the rip girl like a ladybug in a spider's web.

But as expected, an accident occurred. The slit girl was like another spider, freely shuttled through the spider web, catching prey with ease, and this spider web only caught more petty flying mosquitoes.

Looking at the exhausted police officers, they braced themselves up and walked into the crime scene to investigate.

George frowned, he couldn't go on like this!

We can no longer follow the cracked girl!

Otherwise all they would find were bodies.

He must find a way to get in front of the gaping girl.

Gritting his teeth, the map of Queens appeared in his mind, and the cases that had occurred were marked on the map, and then... George found nothing...

There is no pattern at all. The slit girl is like a ghost that moves left and right. You never know where she will be at the next moment or who she will attack.

The attack...the people attacked were all gang members?

Lowering his head and looking at the tattooed corpse on the ground, if he finds the lone gang member, is it possible to find the cracked girl?

On the map, a large area quietly lit up. That area was Hell's Kitchen, the place where the Slit Girl was most frequented, and it was also the starting point of the Slit Girl case.

No longer thinking about it, he took a gamble and started heading towards Hell's Kitchen.

Under the threat of the Rift Girl, the entire city began to fall into deathly silence.

This place is not far from Hell's Kitchen. Stepping on the street, the gangsters who used to be seen in twos and threes on the side of the road and the homeless people lying in front of the shops disappeared, leaving only a desolate place.

The lights of the city are still bright, and under the colorful lights, the quiet streets seem to have entered another time and space.

It was dark at night, and it was hard to see anyone on both sides of the street. There seemed to be eyes hidden in the alleys that were watching him.

As I continued to run forward, I saw living things running through the grass quickly. I didn’t know whether they were mice or wild cats.

The embers of burned newspapers blew past my feet, and the closer I got to Hell's Kitchen, the weirder the smell became.

In addition to the sound of his running on the street, it seemed that another creature could be vaguely heard moving.

Although the other party had enough information, George still heard a gentle rustling sound.

He swallowed, didn't look back, and ran forward with concentration.

The spread of fear is like when sleeping, sometimes he suddenly suspects that there is something under the bed, and imagines that there is something in the cabinet watching him. Although he knows it is impossible, he often shudders, and then yells "Fuck!" My cabinet moved!"

George shuddered and stopped running. Something unknown seemed to rush past in front of the dark street just now.

The red light ahead gave the street a touch of blood, and the cats in the residential buildings on both sides made shrill screams.

Stopping, the cold wind poured into his collar and cooled the hot sweat that he had just run out of. George couldn't help but think:

"Have nights in Queens been this scary before?"

He added several horrifying pictures in his mind, and there seemed to be faces watching him behind the still slightly bright windows.

"call--"

George's pupils suddenly shrank, and it seemed like someone behind him was blowing gently on his neck, causing goosebumps to appear all over his body.

There was no time to think, and the body started to move on its own.

The palm of his hand was placed on his waist, and the knuckles holding the gun were turning white. George's face was full of fear, large drops of cold sweat fell down, and he suddenly turned his head and looked behind him.

There was an empty space behind him, except for the unburned cracked newspaper pressed against the trash can, rattling in the wind.

Even though everything was normal behind him, George still felt uneasy.

After taking several deep breaths, he pulled up his collar and continued walking forward. Then the surroundings fell into deathly silence.

From running to walking, the pace became slower and slower, and the whole person fell into the silent night.

He never believed in demons, let alone gods. He believed that the appearance of all ghosts and gods was caused by the chaos of people's hearts.

But this time...

"It's all an illusion, it's all an illusion, it's all an illusion..."

Comforting himself in his heart, his teeth chattering in his mouth, George tightened his grip on the pistol. His thoughts began to fly uncontrollably. His feet were as heavy as lead, and he finally stopped in the middle of the street.

Weird, everything is full of weirdness.

George, who stopped, finally noticed something unusual, and it was not his own footsteps.

Instead, another footsteps sounded from the intercom.

It's like there's someone walking around on the intercom!

The sound of footsteps gradually became clearer, separated from the intercom, and sounded behind George.

The man was getting closer, crossing the street and heading straight for him.

"The cracked girl? Is the cracked girl here?"

He stared straight ahead, but all his body and mind were invested behind him, and a chill pierced his back.

Then the voice disappeared behind him.

"Is she...right behind me?"

"Or are you leaving?"

His eyes were staring straight ahead, and in a daze, a pair of scissors grazed his neck from both sides, and the smell of blood hit his face.

A faint voice came from behind him.

"Am I beautiful?"

George's eyes widened, his pupils shrank, and his mouth opened slightly, but he couldn't spit out a word.

In fear of death, George saw his unrecognizable body.

"Cough...cough..."

Another male voice sounded behind him: "Please...please...let me go...don't! Ah!"

My heart skipped a beat, and when I turned around, I saw a man with his eyes wide open, covering his mouth and falling to the ground, making a weak cry for help.

Beside him, the scissors in the hand of the cracked woman were dripping with blood, and she raised her eyebrows and looked at George.

In an instant, the justice in his heart defeated the fear. George did not hesitate to pull out the gun, raised the muzzle, and aimed at the rip girl.

"Stop! NYPD! Put down your weapons! Put down your weapons!"

Shaking off the blood on the scissors, the slit girl ran away behind her like a ghost without hesitation.

bang -- bang -- bang --

The sound of gunfire shattered the sky, hot bullets penetrated the air, and bullet casings fell at George's feet.

All the fear shot out of the pistol, and George's will was stronger than ever.

After a round of bullets were fired, the slit girl was gone, but George's heart felt more at ease than ever before.