"there?"
The burly bald man frowned upon hearing this, as if he was not happy that this so-called 'big shot' had interrupted him, but he still glanced at the abandoned warehouse in the direction of his finger.
"Yes, the glasses are also inside. I'll take you there later."
The words haven't been finished yet.
The young man turned his eyes to him.
"Repeat that."
"?"
The burly man was stunned. "What? You didn't hear what I said?"
Before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by a loud girl's voice, "Don't blink! Don't be afraid! Just look at the knife, not the body!"
He was stunned, his intuition of danger as a superior of Beishenliu exploded in his mind as the girl's murderous words "corpse" exploded in his mind, and the fragment of memory that just passed through his sight suddenly emerged in his mind.
That was the young man's outstretched finger, under which
It's a thick layer of cocoons.
He turned around in astonishment and looked at the young man beside him!
In the sight, the young man with sharp eyebrows and eyes had withdrawn his hand without knowing when. The arm that was originally pointing to the abandoned warehouse in the distance was now in front of him, stretched out, and the fingertips pointed directly at his waist and abdomen.
It's your own knife handle.
It was as if reminding myself that it was time to draw my sword.
The bald thief's pupils suddenly contracted, and he reached out to touch the hilt of the knife at his waist!
The next moment, the familiar gripping feedback did not reach his palm.
Instead.
It feels a bit cold.
It's like holding the wind.
The wind kept moving upwards, very fast.
But very gentle.
Stroke his wrist, knead his arm, press his joints, and relax his arm.
At the same time, in the sight, the young man who was a head shorter than himself and looked very 'weak' was also raising his arm, and his finger landed exactly where the wind was coming from, just like...
He was commanding the wind.
At this moment, the bald thief seemed to realize something and looked down at his arm.
But in a split second, in the dynamic vision of the excellent swordsman, he saw a 'feast'.
Fist-sized slices of thin meat were flying in the air beside his legs.
Bloody.
White and dense.
Neat and tidy.
Piece by piece.
Layer by layer.
Connected in a string.
Connect, fall.
For a moment, he actually saw his entire arm neatly laid on the ground.
Complete.
Lifelike.
It seems there is no damage at all.
Appear before your eyes.
Pupil constriction.
The slow motion disappeared.
With a clang, the scimitar fell to the ground.
The slices of meat poured out and collapsed, like cut and flattened pork elbows, spread out on the ground.
What a nice dish.
feast.
Hot.
Unrepaired.
Fresh from the oven.
It makes people want to eat at first sight.
New chapter.
(End of this chapter)
216. Chapter 210: Not fair, let's divide it equally
216.
How fast are the nerve reflexes when you are near death?
Perhaps the bald, burly thief could put himself in his younger brothers' shoes and have a chat with them.
But the problem is.
He no longer had time to think about that.
When he saw his arm disintegrating into a pile of flesh on the ground, pain rushed to his brain like water.
He didn't scream out.
Doesn't the bald thief feel pain, doesn't feel angry, and is unwilling to resist?
Of course not.
It was just that the feeling of tangible fear had overwhelmed all his emotions, making him feel dizzy, dazed, and nauseous.
Even a little weirdly transcendent.
He smelled death.
In the corner of my eye, the young man in front of me had stopped his fingers at the point where his arm and torso met, frozen, motionless.
So, there's a whole arm on the ground.
That's exactly why.
The ground is just a whole arm.
What would have happened if the other person's fingers had been a little slower?
This was the direct cause of his fear. As a senior swordsman of the Beishenryu School, he knew very well what what he saw meant.
The man in front of him didn't even pull out his knife.
This is a true master, the kind of master who is a little bit outrageous, the kind of master who has no way of escaping from the opponent.
Just by releasing his fighting spirit, he could completely slice his arm into pieces. Without destroying any inertia, he could rely on the inertia of landing to completely stack it on the ground, restoring it to its original shape.
Why did it collapse in the end? Because the fingertips could not support the weight of the arm.
It's not that there's something wrong with the way he 'cut' it.
The sword of light.
A very skilled and incomparable light sword.
At least, at least, I have learned it for five years.
But how old is he?
Twenty? Or younger?
Are you kidding me? I have never heard of this person!
Who is this person? ? A genius that never appears in the Holy Land of Swords? ?
Came to this small town on the edge of Fitoya Territory to hunt for wild game? ?
Who is it?
Wait, genius?
Fitoya collar?
Is it possible?
The moment the doubts in his mind were settled, he felt his thoughts hit the ground, and he suddenly broke free from this wonderful feeling of near-death transcendence.
With a loud crash, blood from the broken arm gushed out like a fountain, staining the ground red.
The other person's fingers were pointing straight at the side of his shoulder, and with just a slight hook of his hand, he could reach his neck.
The bald thief heard his own trembling voice.
"You are A. Allen Boreas Greyrat, you killed everyone in the Rigate stronghold by yourself, but how could you possibly have the Sword of Light?"
"Have mercy on me! Have mercy on me! I...I don't want to die, have mercy on me."
In his sight, the young man named Allen seemed to be observing his reaction. He heard his begging for mercy, but opened his mouth and said something incomprehensible.
"Did you see it clearly?"
The bald thief was stunned for a moment, but immediately realized who Alan was talking to. He suddenly lowered his head to look at the little girl beside him who he had just spoken rudely to. No, she should be called Alice Boreas Greyrat.
The other party stared at the flesh on the ground that was washed by blood and floating up and down. His face was ashen and he kept swallowing his saliva, but he still forced himself to look at it.
His arm was cut into pieces.
The bald thief realized something, and with a pleading look, he shook his head frantically at Alice. He only shook his head twice, but then he realized something again and started nodding continuously.
Tears were flowing out, as if the rude and rough attitude just now was just an illusion, a disguise.
Then, he heard the 'result'.
"No, no!"
A cold feeling climbed up the suddenly severed arm that still had the touch of a phantom limb. The bald thief's mind went completely blank. He raised his eyes and looked at Alan in a daze.
The latter was staring at his face, expressionless and with his lips parted.
Seven words.
"Good stuff?" "Superior?" "High-quality?" "Grand?"
Each word was spoken very slowly, with a questioning tone, and it landed like a nail in his mind and struck him like a hammer, leaving a chill in his heart.
His pupils suddenly contracted and he was about to turn around and run away!
The result was still slow.
Alan moved his fingers.
The air passed through the bald thief's mouth.
Lift your finger upward.
Lightly glanced at the other person's eyes.
The next moment.
Flesh and blood burst!
Neatly cut teeth, a broken tongue, and two bloody eyeballs fell to the ground as he turned around!
The pain surged into the bald thief's brain like a tide. He uttered unintelligible fragments from his mouth and still stubbornly ran towards the location of the warehouse as he remembered.
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