Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

He turned his head:

It was a strange man standing upright, with a face without facial features embedded with all kinds of ritual instruments; he was wearing a gold and white jacket that seemed to be made from a modified robe.

There were two masks on her chest, one on the left and one on the right, one red and one white, fixed on the torso where the breasts should be.

"Qigong practitioner."

Blue-gray smoke came out of Xin's mouth and wrapped around his body.

"Ah, yes."

The mask blinked one eye, stuck out the other tongue, and responded softly.

Chapter 173 Dragon (Part )

The ruler serves as the nose, the token stands upright between the eyebrows; the talisman serves as the eyes, and the sound of cloud bells shakes - two long flags extend obliquely from the place where the ear holes were originally, and rotate with the sound of electric current.

The mask on the left chest was white and had no nose, like a character in a cartoon - not as white as snow, but more like a human face that had not been exposed to the sun for a long time.

The other side was an inhumanly bright red, as if there were flashing colored lights underneath; the slender red nose protruded like a stick.

It looks like the god of land that the barbarians occasionally worship, an idol built with waste materials and parts.

"Is that a 'boy' above? And he's registered." The light disk that served as the mouthpiece flashed a diode, and a dull male voice with interest came out of the speaker; "Let me check... Hey, it's the Taoist boy of the 'outer sect Taoist'."

"Ah, you deliberately didn't hide your identity and lure the Taoist soldiers up to capture them all in one fell swoop? Not stupid, but not very smart either. The tricks are nice to watch, but they are rare."

The Qigong practitioner adjusted his jacket and put his hands in his trouser pockets:

"What about you, little brother? Are you interested in telling us about your accomplices?"

……

"To fight or not to fight?"

Xin suddenly jumped forward.

Every step he took avoided the depressions and obstacles on the ground; the extended blade of the sword dragged a long groove behind him.

The flash of thought in his mind followed the movement of his body - while his brain was still hesitating, his limbs made the decision first.

He also wanted to see blood; it didn't matter if it was the other person's or his own.

Besides: no one knows how much strength the boss has left - every bit of energy you can consume from the enemy is a bit of energy.

Xin swam through the pocket-sized jungle of concrete pillars like a fish: he left enough room for turning and changing his position to avoid possible long-range attacks from the Qigong practitioner.

It is still ten steps away from the Qigong practitioner, almost within reach.

While moving at high speed, Xin bent down:

He slapped the ground with one hand to maintain balance, and the rapidly twirling sword stirred into the concrete, spraying dust and sand: the blade was slightly tilted, driving them to cover a new front.

call!

The Qigong practitioner was surrounded by sand and dust, and slightly bent his arms, as if to protect the empty space in front of his chest.

The eyes of the pale mask rolled around, and the bright red mask's gaze met Shin's.

His two straight eyebrows were almost like slender swords, and his eyes were shining:

This Qigong practitioner uses a mask to see things!

He threw his head back, his chest puffed out—then shook his head like a hammer of forging iron and spat out:

A scarlet, round bubble made of smoke blew out from between its fangs, and its rapid flight turned it into an oval shape.

The smoke enveloped the chest and abdomen of the Qigong practitioner and condensed without dispersing.

Buzz!

The spinning blade stirred up a gust of wind, blowing his new hair backwards; his eyes reflected the blood of the smoke bubbles and the white light of the sharp blade.

The sand and stones were just feints, used to find the location of the Qigong practitioner's visual organs; the smoke balls that could actually block detection could not be sprayed continuously.

Shin raised the sword that was emitting a swirling stream of air and pointed it at the two masks.

Then jump up!

A flaw has been created in the Qigong practitioner, and he is confident that he can pierce any body made of flesh, blood or steel.

boom!

The front of my face suddenly sank, and I felt a pain in my cervical spine caused by pressure and inertia:

It was a hand that covered Xin's face. At some point, the Qigong practitioner's wrists broke free and stretched outwards, striking Xin before the sword could.

Then, press your hands downward.

boom!

The Xin who was leaping in the air was pressed into the broken pieces of concrete, and his back bent the steel bars under his body.

Zizi!

With the impact, the elbow lifted up with the sword and scraped the magic weapon on the face of the Qigong practitioner diagonally; the friction made a sound like lathe cutting, and the high-temperature sparks burned a small hole in the new chest, bringing pain like touching ice.

Wow!

A few drops of blood spurted out from the gaps in the fang mask and splashed onto his cheeks.

The Qigong practitioner took a step forward. He stepped on the new Adam's apple with one foot and on the elbow that was connected to the sword with the other foot, looking down from above:

"Can't you talk properly, you little bastard? Why do you bite everyone you see?"

"Missed."

New face raised: The groove on the Qigong practitioner's face used to embed the magic weapon was cut by the sword, leaving a hideous wound, but no body fluids flowed out - it was like a fake object made of rubber.

But the token that he hit didn't even have a scratch on it.

The pale mask showed a sad face:

"It's annoying. Why do you have to pick today to cause trouble? I won't be on duty tomorrow."

The bright red mask raised its mouth corners, laughing silently:

"Never mind! It's a beautiful show, so it's not a loss - how do I say it? Oh, a visual feast."

The Qigong practitioner turned around: the pale blue light had disappeared in the "sky cave"; the "rain" had also stopped.

He tilted his fake face:

"Come on, shout for help and ask that Taoist boy to come down."

"He didn't dare go up."

The new song started. He didn't grab the foot on his throat, but struggled to touch the edge of the respirator.

"Well, all right then: screaming is fine."

click!

The Qigong practitioner's leg sank and broke a new arm bone.

"The boss said...if there is really no other way, take off the respirator."

His whole body trembled suddenly, but he didn't make a sound. His intact hand grasped the edge of the fang, ready to tear it upwards.

……

Snapped!Snapped!

The sound of a cheap lighter being lit came from the side.

"Hey."

Then came a tired and vague cry.

Xin, unable to move, turned his eyes: Fang Bailu was standing not far away, lighting a cigarette between his teeth; his coat was full of holes and burns, hanging down like rags.

He looked like he had just been caught in a heavy rainstorm, with water dripping from the corners of his clothes, the ends of his hair, and his chin.

There is black water mixed in with the bright red.

"You are 'Happy Sanren', right? How much compensation do you plan to pay for stepping on someone's hand and breaking it?"

Fang Bailu spoke the short sentence with great difficulty; he had to take a breath every time he uttered a few words. Blood from someone else gathered into a puddle beside his feet, and ripples appeared as his legs shook.

"..."

Huan Sanren did not answer, and the four eyes on the mask moved up and down.

"The boss is so tired he can hardly move."

Shin endured the severe pain and tightened his back muscles - he wanted to try to make his damaged spine recover as quickly as possible.

Fang Bailu was not in a hurry either. He just held the cigarette with his trembling hands and wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand.

Huan Sanren suddenly took a step back and moved away from Xin. The four eyes on his chest lit up dimly:

"Pan-Asian Military Industry? Induction Society? Or are they from overseas? Where are the outer sect Taoists?"

Fang Bailu held the partially smoked cigarette upside down—his five fingers pinched the filter and held the cigarette butt in his palm:

"No, there is no organization behind this. It's just a personal grudge."

"A personal grudge against the research institute...? Huh! Is that so? The president and his team are on a business trip, and I'm the team leader on duty. In other words—"

Huan Sanren pulled out the token between his eyebrows, making a crisp sound:

"I will be responsible for the damage you caused. So, no matter whether what you said is true or not...just treat it as if you were sent by another organization to sabotage us, okay?"

He waved the token downwards as if shaking off the water from his sleeves. The token made a sharp and short sound, which sounded like an audio that had been fast-forwarded:

"…The incense is like flying clouds forming a seal, with a bright virtue and fragrance. The Yang Qi rises, and the alchemy cauldron moves the fire of the primordial spirit; the wind returns and mixes, and the mysterious gate is filled with the smoke of Tai Su…"

Fang Bailu had no intention of moving, but just raised his chin:

"Relic."

"Yes, he is very knowledgeable."

Huan Sanren scratched the magic weapon on his face and began to walk left and right - this movement looked particularly funny:

"Why did you come down? Don't you want the trap upstairs?"

Fang Bailu shook his head, but suddenly took a breath, as if he had touched a wound:

"Hiss - I'm overthinking. I don't have the energy to set a trap."

Huan Sanren's two masks raised their eyes and looked at the empty space behind Fang Bailu, as if he was looking for something. At the same time, he kept walking in circles with strange steps:

"You play the flying sword well. I like this unique way of playing. Does it have a name?"

"'cell phone'."

Huan Sanren turned his head, as if thinking and savoring:

"The secret in your palm? It's quite interesting. Why don't you take it out and fight me with swords?"

cough!

Fang Bailu seemed to be choked by the smoke and kept coughing with a strange look on his face.

Huan Sanren continued to speak:

"Is it because it can't be driven? It's a pity that I haven't fought with swords for a long time. It's a pity that I don't have the final say, otherwise I would like you to join our study group. In my opinion, you have imagination; more importantly, you have the bones of a Taoist."

"Because I take human life lightly?"

"No, that's called having no distractions and daring to be the first."

Fang Bailu threw the cigarette butt into the puddle of blood at his feet without responding to Huan Sanren's statement.

The happy wanderer suddenly stopped his strange and crooked steps and stood still.

He held the token high:

"Okay, you're all stalling for time. But I'm faster."

Before he finished speaking, the sky changed.

A different color of light than before shone through the broken glass panes of the storage and access hall, casting scattered shadows on the pillars, ruins, half-broken corpses, and the people present.