Chapter 667: Night Crawler (Part 1)
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Orc Tyrant
- Mo Ge Zhuo Gen
- 1079 characters
- 2021-03-03 02:10:02
The hunter exhaled slowly in the deserted, dark underground caves of Irvine.
The time has come.
opportunity.
The illusion flashed in his mind, like a broken and misplaced image input. Since he received the gift, the illusion has been flashing in his mind-about the future, about all possibilities, about the next moment, and after moment.
It was these illusions that gradually forced him into madness.
However, the illusions that appeared in front of him at this moment were relatively clean, bearable, and tolerable. They were not a nightmare-like harbinger, and they did not show him the burning world and the future into the end.
The decaying scene of often came to his mind, eventually making him mentally confusing, so that any life-whether it is his own or someone else is worthless.
The hunter breathed carefully, and the illusion flashing in his bloodshot eyes was stable and reliable.
He knew his identity: a dark lord, a fallen soul, a shadow blade.
"Bruce Wayne."
He whispered to himself, chanting his name like a blessing.
Blessings or death sentences.
He is fully aware of his identity and goals. At this moment, in desperate and years, Bruce's understanding of his goals is more clear and perfect than anyone in the Shadow Blade.
The ruthless void has shown him everything. As his old friend and tormentor, the vast ocean shows him everything, and his dream shows him everything.
Fear, pain, and belief collapse.
Everyone has to pay a price.
Everyone, every soul, every individual, they all scream with him.
The load-bearing steel beam screamed and moaned around him, as if a mountain was collapsing. Bruce knew that it had happened. He had foreseen it, and he knew that the illusion was almost necessarily true.
The gang of nerds at Tianfeng College did not want to let go of their so-called dignity. They wanted to die with those ancient stones and burn them with their old books.
Very good, at least they did.
wizard.
When he thought of the self-righteous idiots, Bruce wanted to spit. They always thought that their little trick could do something, but it was clearly useless in the subsequent battle.
Idiots, reptiles, idiots, as bad as stubborn stones, so surely blind to their power, full of unbearable sense of honor.
Then let them bear the cost themselves, little children.
They all have to pay the price, they all have to see the truth, the truth that only Bruce knows.
Only he, only he can defeat them in flames and fears until they are as fragmented as he is. If his life is long enough, Bruce is looking forward to his end, he can't beg for it.
But before that, he has more goals.
Guk.
Fate made him close to being the number one goal, and Guck was a sign that he needed to be overthrown and smashed.
Guk, and his kingdom will be destroyed together.
Bruce closed his eyes.
Illusions began to emerge. He saw the dead bodies of the streets of Evan City. He saw the tall buildings and the minaret burning. He saw blood. He saw—
Those scarlet illusions flowed to him like sprayed arterial blood. He remained calm. It is still too early to lose his mind. He has work to complete and maintain a certain concentration. Anger is only useful when it is turned into a weapon. So is fear.
He knew both well.
The time has come, it's time to leave this hiding place.
Now that Oak has actually occupied the place, the weak councillors and the mayor surrendered to these beasts in disbelief.
Even more incredible is that these green skins have actually accepted, but the more terrible future is waiting for the weak, Bruce can see.
Saving the weak is not his first task anymore.
First he had to rush out of this place, then he had to rush into Ivan. An Oker warlord is a very good target. The characteristics of these creatures determine that they cannot lose their leader.
But in the same way, he never really faced a warlord and knew nothing about their power.
Bruce felt helpless for a moment.
The illusion surged in his mind like a river, and the water was covered with reflections.
He trusts these most, because they are almost always true, and only when fate accidentally shakes its back will this illusion become a false promise.
He is usually able to counterfeit and preserve the truth. He has always been able to find doubtful ingredients. He always remembers that he is taking risks. For any illusion, he must judge its authenticity and measure its reliability.
When he decides whether to rely on a certain illusion, he will accept the wrong decision.
The current series of illusions looked extremely reliable, and Bruce decided to follow their prompts.
One of the illusions was lingering: a corroded image, a closed door to the outside world, and a mark.
He smiled.
Sixteen minutes later, Bruce opened the door of entrance 13 at the second floor of the sewer ~EbookFREE.me~ and came out of the passage.
The torn fence gate crashed off and fell into the dazzling city with bright debris. Bruce saw the world illuminated by the rising moon below. He saw the sharpness of all shadows under strong contrast. Marginal.
This is a harsh, sharp dark night.
He put on his helmet again, rushed out of the cliff like a bat, and strode lightly along the covered bridge. The bitter cold caused him to be excited.
Here is below Tianfeng College. He can see many corpses hanging on the broken outer wall of the college. Most of them are dressed in robes and flutter gently like bacon under the eaves in the evening wind.
Those wizards got the ending they wanted, which is good.
Bruce squatted by a side door, waiting for it to open, he had received the omen, and an Ouk patrol team would appear from the front.
They spent eighteen seconds.
Amidst the noise, a group of Oaks carrying torches approached, but when the light rushed out, the shadow blade tilted his body backwards and was not immediately discovered.
However, it was not a formal team. It was a group of scavengers with half-full pockets on their shoulders. Obviously they came here to fill the pockets behind them. .
Bruce shrugged, and sometimes the illusions were not completely reliable.
In any case, he always killed them.
The first Oake stepped into the shadow of the covered bridge, holding the stick in one hand and the aisle guard in the other.
Bruce pounced on it like a shark that launched a raid on a swimmer. No one could survive this fierce blow.
At the moment when Ouck appeared from the shadows, the claws grabbed its throat, and a large drop of blood swayed to the sky.