Chapter 180: 7 of the public

The owner of the inn hid under the and became a group.
Originally thought that I lived in a big family, I did not expect to come to kill a god, God, if he does not leave, his life will not be left here.
"Hey." A flying shot, a black man seems to be hit by a fist in the chest, the whole back flies out, hitting the phoenix tree behind him.
At the same time, the black men in the southeast and the west, a spurt of blood, the whole softened.
Drops of blood, sprinkled on the ground, green and green.
One face, four deaths and three injuries.
Yun Zhao sat on the stone bench, holding the folding fan in his hand and raised his eyebrows.
The black man who saw the head saw a face, and actually died four. When the next whistle, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
At the same time, a thing flew out toward the moon.
The poisonous smoke bomb, the hunting ground after the Tianchen Emperor Xuanyuan Yishou Banquet, forced her and Xuanyuan to fall off the cliff.
In the eyes of Haoyue, the murderous moment was arrogant, and he flashed his body. He ignored the poisonous smoke bombs and leaped high. The black man who escaped into the darkness chased the past.
"Hey." Poisonous smoke pervaded the entire backyard.
The sitting cloud called to quickly cover his mouth and nose, and a flash of speed quickly chased the moon.
Du Bai, who had never been out of the white smoke, burst out from the night in the cold, and the corners of his eyebrows were all cold, his body flashed, and he disappeared into the night.
Crossing the street, the moon chased the black man.
She will not be light, but the feeling of sensitivity to the breath is the Xuanyuan Che of the year, she has never lost, not to mention the black people in this area.
The black man was hidden in the dark, and there was no trace.
However, there is no trace of the direction of Haoyue.
The moon white figure crossed in the darkness. If someone saw it at this time, he would not be able to think that he had seen the ghost.
Dushui City East Street Du Fu.
"Is it a move? How is the result?" In the hall of the palace, an old man with white hair was sullen and looked at the black man with his wounded back.
"One stroke, four deaths and three injuries." The black man respectfully bowed in front of the white-haired old man, fast.