Chapter 289: Black Knight (Part 1)
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Orc Tyrant
- Mo Ge Zhuo Gen
- 1261 characters
- 2021-03-03 02:08:13
The boy got up slowly from the ruins, except for the ashes and mud on the pale skin. He looked at the sunless sky as dark as the void, and looked at his steel cradle almost like ruins, the steam from the crack of the cracked metal tube. Gushing, blurring the sight.
His pale face didn't show any emotion, just looked at the horizon calmly.
A city, a city full of tall towers and chimneys, the dim light shining from the streets still illuminates the surrounding night like a lighthouse.
The boy’s first reaction was feeling incredible, and then excited again. His eyes were staring and his heart was beating fast. He instinctively learned that he could find his kind in the distant city full of light. This idea made him reach out. Finding a weapon, white fingers grabbed a piece of metal fragments, the surface was cold.
The touch of the blade in his hand made the boy's young and flawless face show a second expression.
He smiled...
Gunfire continued in the dim alley.
No matter how hard they try, he will never catch him. The boy is a blur on the shady screen, from the shadows on the street. When he runs, his worn shoes hardly touch the ground.
Gunfire chased him, the bullet buzzed in his ear like a bug, he grinned more and ran faster.
Crossing the street corner and entering the alley, he jumped onto the dirty drain, the boy put his pale hands in his pockets, covered his face with dirty black hair and held his breath.
He waited and turned into a unique shadow, stopping all movements.
The people who chased him were proceeding with the team carefully, their tone was like a poisonous pond, and their skin exuded the smell of others' blood.
Some are left and some are separated to the right, but everyone rushes to the puddle that turned the alley into a swamp.
The boys tried not to laugh, and their footprints on the mud made the tracking of these people the easiest thing in the world.
One of them stayed in the alley. According to his heavy breathing and hurricane heartbeat, the boy knew that the man’s fat and bloated body did not need to look at it, so he was left behind by his sad colleagues.
The boy opened his eyes and moved his feet away from the shadow. He let the blade in his hand reflect the light of the street lamp beside him.
The man turned his head and saw the scrawny boy's grinning face.
His screams led back to his party, and the fastest of them rushed back to the alley in less than twenty seconds. When they arrived, the boy was gone, and that group belonged to them. The obese man was lying on the drainpipe impregnated with warm blood, all fingers were cut off and his face was peeled.
He is hungry.
He knew that he could rob the dead and take coins and banknotes from them to buy some food. He also knew that he could simply steal food from street vendors and take those fruits and warm bread. He was quick and absolutely Won't be caught.
The boy's stomach was cramping and he had curled up, snarling for his food hunger. The last time he drank his blood when he felt so hungry, this slightly eased the pain, but only made him weaker.
The mouse is not enough for him. He needs more. He caught one a few hours ago, but he needs to use the mouse as a bait for the trap. He exhausted all his strength to resist eating this sad rat. The temptation of the lack of muscles.
Finally, a group of three wild dogs appeared, each of which was more insignificant and dirty than the previous one.
They roared and wriggled in the alleyway, competing for the bait of the dead rat that the boy had put in the open space.
His teeth trembled, his tongue was covered with warm saliva, and the boy ran up with a knife.
The next moment, a dark shadow covered him.
All this is under his watch.
He looked at the city at his feet, curled up on the edge of the eaves, and bowed to disguise himself as the ugly and weird statue aside.
His black cape was so thin that there seemed to be no hope of resisting the cold. Behind the mask was a pair of pure black mother like gems, without a trace of variegation.
The territory below belongs to men and women with red teardrop tattoos on their faces. People usually avoid their territory, but tonight, screaming draws him closer.
He warned them more than once, and he warned them of the price they would have to pay if they dared to step into the light in this city.
But they still came, forming groups in order to kill people in neighboring communities and kidnap women.
No, I can't stand it any longer.
The indifferent man leapt from the roof and moved down the stone wall with one hand. His boots fell gently to the ground with his ghostly pace, to understand why his warning was ignored .
They left a sentry in the abandoned factory marking the edge of the territory. He jumped from the broken ceiling and came to the first person-a man with a dirty hound-in front of him.
The sentry turned around and raised the gun, but the man broke his hand from his elbow and pierced his dirty palm with a glass dagger.
The dog growled and stepped back, showing his teeth but not willing to fight. The man looked at it, his eyes squinted and his teeth exposed.
The hound barked and ran away.
Before the mysterious man left, he bound the sentry to the iron fence.
Perhaps it would be better to put the warning signal in the gang's territory, this time he will leave ten or even twenty.
If it doesn't work this time~EbookFREE.me~ next time he will leave forty.
The confession sounded like a natural sound to him, the gunshot was like laughter, and the lament and pain were the poems and chorus in his life.
This is not because he enjoys these things, but in this city, these are the sounds he can only hear. These sounds nourished him like breast milk when he was young, just like the cry of the rotten city He grew into a person, and then became something above him.
They recorded him in words. He didn't care much, but he still observed from the words in the newspaper.
A vengeful soul, they call him so.
A cruel echo from the impossible era, sneaking in the city, a night knight from the old era, they first crowned him with a name, so that their fear has a name, and soon the name becomes a curse --black Knight.
He sneaked past the church, through the hall enshrining the statue of Chimon, silently lurking on the curved dome.
Far from any place where the light can shine, the bishop occupies this sanctuary deceived from the believers.
He squeezed money, freedom and blood from them. He took away their young children and controlled their lives only in exchange for the ambiguous protection under his name.
For those overlords and queens who take the streets and alleys, those who will do the same with him are protected.
Humans are so fragile that this man feels sad. They look no different from the wild dogs who guard their homes. Apart from the differences in posture, they are also beaten and dressed in the same restraint.
Many of them were stabbed with digital tattoos by factory owners on their shoulders, oppressed into legal slaves, or simply wandering in the streets, seizing anything they wanted by coercion and violence.