Orc Tyrant

Chapter 671: Fatal trap (medium)

"You suffered some tonight, monster."

Bosco said to the darkness, still turning his body, searching for the target.

"I thought you should be a little tired, after killing so many boys."

Gasping silently.

"Moreover—"

Bosco turned the pistol slowly, his fingers ready to pull the trigger at any time.

"I wonder if I can bathe your blood tonight."

"On your left!"

The nervous boy suddenly yelled.

Dalian Chang turned his body and fired. What did he hear, did he really hit it? Hit the opponent?

"On your right!"

Bosco turned around again and fired two shots. The neuroboy shrank under a scroll stage to interpret the darkness and detect the attacker's actions.

"What now?"

The head of Dalian exclaimed angrily:

"Where is he? You can't get out from under the table to help!?"

"Behind you!"

The nerve boy roared again.

Oak turned around quickly, but he wasn't fast enough, and a missed blow sent him to the ground, the pistol flew out of his palm and slid aside along the floor.

"hide!"

Bosco hurriedly turned to the side, and the sharp claws that appeared out of thin air suddenly swung down, cutting the floor where he had just been lying on to pieces.

He crawled forward with hands and feet, reaching out to grab his gun.

"No! Keep hiding!"

The nerve boy's voice urged him to act again.

The Dalian chief rolled to the side again, and the sharp claws attacked one after another. He almost climbed onto a dead taxi soldier. In desperation, Bosco pulled the saber out of the corpse's neck.

"Left! Left!"

"Something real! Don't just use your mouth!"

Bosco slashed to the left with the blood-stained blade, once, twice.

"front!"

Bosco swung another knife, and this time he felt a shock through the hilt.

Drops of black blood splashed on the floor, and he left a wound, causing damage to the opponent, just like Auguste.

"Rear right!"

Nervous boy reminders are not always so timely.

Bosco turned around, put all his power in the knife, and immediately felt the heavy saber bounce off the claws.

The stainless steel cast in the waste city blocked the shadow's claws in a burst of sparks. After the parry, Dalian Chang immediately fought back, and then slew a knife aimlessly in an attempt to force the monster away.

He feinted to the left, then cut to the darkness on the right, then swiped a knife forward.

"Why don't you speak, Deca! Where is he?"

"There, on your left!"

The nervous boy yelled, and he pointed to the darkness in the darkness for no use.

Pocos slashed to the left. He could smell a certain stench in the gloom, a fierce rage.

It was a filthy smell, like a sick beast, as if fighting against a dying owner in a cave.

"Left, now!"

"I saw it!"

Pocos roared and swung the blade vigorously.

He hit again, he could feel it.

"Did I cut you?"

He gently turned the saber in his hand and asked the darkness in a provocative tone.

"Are you bleeding?"

In response, a head-on blow knocked Pocos to the ground. He tried to regain consciousness in his dizziness, his mouth full of blood.

"Damn—"

He could hear Dika calling his name to make him dodge, but he couldn't figure out his thoughts.

Then he seemed to be kicked heavily in the abdomen and rolled out on the floor of the memorial hall. He had no weapons in his hands and no air in his lungs.

Dalian Chang spit out a mouthful of blood.

He lay on the edge of the memorial hall, bathed in the strange light from the nervous boy.

Dika hid beside him, holding his breath. They seemed to be close at hand, but in fact they were far away. The timidity of this guy made Pocos want to kill him.

But Dika's abilities are very special, and his aggressiveness is indeed not strong.

Still have to rely on yourself.

Pocos tried to get up.

Everything became still, he heard the shadow panting like a hop, he could perceive something looking down at him, and the tips of those slender claws moved slowly across the breastplate, ready to go. work hard.

"Yes, I'm bleeding."

A dying voice said softly:

"But not as much blood as you bleed, Ok."

Pocos tensed his body, preparing for death.

The howling claws were on his head.

Suddenly, an armored hand grasped his left arm and violently pulled it. Its power was so great that he was pulled aside, so the black knight's beheading completely deviated from the target.

Pocos looked up to see who had joined the battle to save him.

But there are only three people here: Bokos, the shadow of the attacker, and the nerve boy.

Dika was holding Pocos' left hand tightly, the air was cool, it smelled completely different, and the sound around him changed.

It turned out that he was no longer in the memorial hall, he was lying outside the garden of the memorial hall.

"Dika?"

"I can't explain..."

They turned their heads and looked back. A tall and grinning shadow was staring at them from the darkness of the memorial hall. It was Bruce who had been snatched from the prey.

He reached out a claw-covered hand and tried to reach out the door, but some force trapped him inside. Although Pocos moved here, Bruce couldn't.

Dika's special ability is to be able to create an invisible cage. Its firmness and tightness even amazes Beruf. He is also one of the few nerve boys who has no offensive ability. Only the blood axe is willing to accept his special talents.

"You are really unpredictable..."

Bruce hissed, saliva splashing between his black teeth.

"What is going on, how is this done?"

"I tried to catch you."

The neuroboy answered very directly.

"Ability without logic is just like your existence!"

The black knight roared, his slender and slender figure that was like a corpse signalling death.

"Now come back quickly and let me kill you."

"I'm not so stupid to think about it, we can't beat you again."

The nerve boy's uprightness made Bosco want to give him a shot in the head, but since he saved his life, he will leave this shot for Xiami.

"Besides, I think you have more urgent things to worry about right away."

Behind Bruce, the two pairs of gates to the west and south suddenly opened, and light flooded into the memorial hall.

The warlord stood in the south porch, holding a sharp blade in his hand, and surrounded by a large group of heavy bodyguards. They were holding weapons enough to wipe out the entire memorial hall, and even the nerve boy heard the engine roar of the dirty car tank.

"Back."

Beruf said to his men that anger radiated from him like a haze of heat.

"This **** belongs to me."

"Oh--"

Bruce whispered when he turned to look, he raised his exaggerated **** claws, and tugged at the corner of his left mouth thoughtfully.

"interesting."

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