Pick up a corpse to be reborn: Miss Ghost

Chapter 1109 Martyrdom
"God, my name is Michael Jackson, not Michael Jackson, and I'll report to you right away."

"Hey, who helped me shoot that big green lizard just now? It's a pleasure to fight side by side with you."

"Oh, guys, it's a pleasure to play Dragon Quest with you in the F22, but I have to go first."

"Warm and glorious, brothers, we are in the place closest to heaven, fighting against the evil dragons from hell. God should arrange a good place for us, right?"

Yes, in the closest place to heaven, fight the demons from hell.

If this world is after the Third World War, there are still people who are willing to record history under the nuclear dust.They will write in the dark history books:
"There used to be a group of brave pilots who were fearless in the face of monsters from hell, fought side by side, and dedicated their lives amidst chatting and laughing.

Until the last moment, they believed that justice would win the final victory. "

It's... so, right?Hey, the beliefs they insisted on, the fierce battles, and the ferocious dragons are all true, right?

The endless sea is like a monster good at silence, chewing on the fighter jets of the three squadrons with its dragon teeth.

There are countless broken aircraft fragments floating on the sea, and there are still smiling corpses.

On the sea not far away, there was still the same wooden boat, and the white pine stood straight like a javelin, even the increasingly rough waves could not shake him at all.

The spell written on his body with blood and the spell on the wooden boat changed rapidly. Gradually, the wooden boat couldn't bear the too intense energy shock, starting from the bow, it turned into fly ash bit by bit.

But Bai Song didn't seem to feel that the boat under his feet was quickly disappearing into ashes. He closed his eyes tightly and let the dark blood roll down from his seven orifices.

After the blood flowed out, it didn't drip down, but was immediately swallowed by the flashing spell on his body.

The wind blew wildly.

Starting from the tip of the highest finger, Bai Song's whole body is like a statue made of sand, and like the wooden boat under his feet, it gradually disappears into ashes.

In the port of Tokyo, among the warships of the Self-Defense Forces waiting in full battle, a man wearing a hood and cloak similar to that of a Western magician trembled, and after a while he said in a low voice: "Elder Baisong, you have died for your country."

(End of this chapter)