Overturned Tower

As if feeling Russell's determination, the psionic weapon named "Saint Beheading" suddenly shone with a faint light.

Feeling a certain dampness. Russell subconsciously touched his neck.

He touched blood on his hands.

The faint pain made him realize that there was a strange wound on his neck.

It is obviously such a dangerous position, and it is easy to touch the main artery. But it did not hurt Russell's life.

Instinctively, he wiped the blood from his hand to the dagger.

As the blood covered the original white part of the dagger, a bright red light blade was slowly pulled out by Russell.

It is no longer the short knife that was too short to cut watermelon before.

It was the most convenient blade length determined by Russell himself.

Just like, the blood of Russell's left hand is the sheath of this long knife.

With the idea of ​​trying the knife, he faced the silent captain's room and slashed at the door lock!

Not the screeching noise of sharp blades hitting metal, or the noise of machine springs as heavy objects chop through door locks.

It was an extremely intense and sharp noise that was completely beyond Russell's expectations—

Like a chainsaw that feeds a piece of iron into a high-speed rotation, it makes a sharp sound and at the same time bursts out sparks.

This even scared Russell himself a little.

He also immediately realized that the other party must realize that he was outside the door.

At this moment, the airship began to swing to the other side.

So Russell immediately followed the swinging force and stuck to the wall on the other side.

Almost at the next moment when he posted, huge gunshots sounded from the room one after another.

Pon-pon!

The dense metal projectiles came obliquely like iron rain, and instantly deformed the solid metal door.

And tiny projectiles pierced through the iron door, leaving deep scratches on the ground, ceiling and walls on both sides.

If Russell hadn't dodged, he might have been sprayed into a sieve by now.

The second shot was fired almost immediately, and the deformed heavy iron door was directly knocked out.

Russell just hid in the L-shaped corner on the side of the door, dodging this attack.

It should be that a projectile penetrated the connection between the iron door and the wall. Flying out, the iron door that fell on the ground made a sharp loud noise, dragged on the ground and made a sharp metal noise-this sound must be heard by other passengers on the airship.

Russell immediately held his breath.

If the passengers heard such a loud noise, they might come out of their rooms and come here to check the situation. In that way, if they are caught off guard, they may be injured or even killed by powerful projectiles.

Russell could see very clearly that the projectile could fly nearly 100 meters after penetrating through the thick iron gate, and embedded itself in the opposite wall.

Even such a heavy iron door would be knocked out—

As long as it is rubbed by it, I am afraid that I will lose my fighting power immediately.

This kind of power can still be sprayed continuously, is this reasonable?

This is really a handheld sprayer, isn't it a cluster gun?

Russell was actually not sure how many bullets the opponent still had.

If the opponent only has two bullets in the gun, then now is the safest moment; but if there are more than four or even eight bullets, and only two bursts can be fired at a time, it will be very dangerous for Russell to rush in next. .

—However, it cannot be delayed any longer.

If people hear the sound coming together, the probability of accidentally injuring innocent passengers and flight attendants will be greatly increased.

In other words, the probability is 100%—whoever comes to see will die.

At least turn the opponent's gun in the direction and stop aiming at the corridor...

Although he became more fearful and tense to the point where his heart was beating violently, Russell's body became more dexterous and supple instead.

Thoughts turned, but in an instant.

Just as the door was blown out, and before the smoke dissipated when it landed, Russell bowed his waist and rushed in directly against the wind, and immediately bounced and rolled to one side the moment he entered the room.

The man had fired two rounds and was reloading. I just loaded the first one, and the moment I saw someone coming in, I immediately pulled the trigger on the door.

But obviously, Russell's small size and dexterity made the opponent somewhat unexpected. Moreover, the sharp noise of the iron door dragging on the ground also covered the sound of Russell's footsteps when he rushed in.

Russell arched and rolled in, less than two palms above the ground.

Almost all the projectiles poured over Russell, only one grazed Russell's back.

His clothes were torn, and the blood didn't even have time to soak out immediately.

Russell, however, felt almost no pain.

At the moment of injury, his green pupils suddenly tightened into the vertical pupils of a feline.

The world in front of me seemed to become dim and slow.

After he rolled and landed in a very awkward position, he landed on three limbs and dragged on the ground.

With the help of the long tail adjusting the angle of the spine, the extremely soft body regained its balance.

In the process of rolling, the bright red light blade he was holding was dragging on the ground, bursting out clusters of sparks. When the projectiles hit the blade, they burst into an extremely bright light, but Russell hardly felt the impact.

This momentary phenomenon gave Russell a new idea.

It only took him a moment to finish observing the gangster.

That guy was wearing a mask like the other three mercenaries, and even his ears were wrapped in protective equipment. It is impossible to judge the specific relatives only by observation. His physique was close to two meters, and his arms were so strong that they were twice as thick as Russell's thighs. There were not many traces of prosthetic body modification—except for the left arm which was a prosthetic body, only a strange metal belt was tied around his waist.

And the spray gun in his hand is almost the same as the one that Bad Day took out before. The only difference is that there is an extra thick tube in the front...it seems to make the projectile more concentrated.

But that's why it didn't hurt Russell at all.

The gangster realized that a shot was missed and did not try to forcefully reload.

Instead, he held a shotgun in his right hand, and opened his left hand to Russell.

Looking at the glowing black hole in the palm of his left hand, Russell suddenly felt a great sense of crisis in his heart.

He immediately brought the blade of his right hand over, tilting it in front of him.

The moment the red hot projectile was fired, Russell could clearly see its trajectory.

He was half reacting, half predicting.

Aiming at the trajectory of the projectile hitting at high speed, the pupils stretched to the limit.

A distorted shadow became extremely clear in his dim vision.

Russell pulled the blade horizontally and slashed—

I saw that "bullet" suddenly burst into a brilliant flame. UU reading www.uukanshu.com

Russell suddenly had a bad premonition in his heart.

The next moment, it exploded.

Although there is no snug Russell explosion. But at this distance, the shock wave caused by the explosion suddenly threw Russell backwards, stumbling into the wall.

His back, which had been scratched by the projectile before, was hit hard again, and his chest felt tight.

Under the severe pain, Russell only felt a blank in front of his eyes, his arms were numb for a while, and he had to use all his strength to hold the weapon in his hand... But even so, his brain's thinking almost stalled.

This is thanks to Russell cutting it in half ahead of time, greatly reducing the power of the explosion.

If it did hit Russell, I'm afraid he would be blown to nothing.

But luckily, explosions are just as fair—

The air wave swept across, and directly shattered the table between the two of them.

The ground in the captain's room shook, and the cups and plates shattered all over the place. The middle-aged man, who was tied to the captain's seat and decorated with bird feathers on his temples, quietly pressed a hidden button while taking advantage of the chaos.

At this time, the head of the elf old man who was **** in the corner was hit hard against the wall. Suddenly woke up with a muffled grunt.

He just woke up and opened his eyes.

Just in time to see a masked gangster holding a shotgun, his head flew out high. Blood gushed out like a spring, and sprinkled behind him.

The old man's pupils suddenly contracted slightly.

He didn't yell right away—turning around, he saw the boy with cat ears who was thrown to the wall by the air wave, holding a **** light blade.

Soon, he focused his gaze on the light blade in the boy's hand.

"...the saint beheaded?"

He murmured hesitantly.