Chapter 549:

The flame is gone. There used to be a shiny red rock wall, above the open throat on the floor, the edge of it trembling white from the heat. The explosion deep in the volcano is here.
Then he saw, saw the huge bronze figure jumping around on him, and saw the purpose prepared for him more clearly than all this.
Fire worshiper! The demons of the underground world salute their god. And he, Dean Lee Bad, will be a living victim, concentrating on the throat that is waiting for white heat!
Realizing this moment, the copper giant was on him. At that moment, the wreckage was surpassed all the pain. Because of a person's inhuman nature, the manic power surpassed all reason, restrained himself, made himself half free from the embracing arms, and rushed to the ugly face above him with punch after punch.
Only his left arm is free. At that moment, he was clamped tightly on his body.
His giant is always between him and the glowing rock. Now he felt himself spinning in the air, and another heat hit him. He is being driven back. A flash of light flashed in his mind, as he could really see, that hungry throat shone white.
He tried to lock his legs to the big body to prevent the final heavy and throwing action from ending the terrible ritual. The rocks were close, and their radiant heat enveloped him like a living flame. Suddenly his power disappeared, the battle was over, he lost! His heart violently moved the blood to his brain. His lungs seemed to be on fire.
The red high priest has to perform the duties of a priest and must make sacrifices. However, even the high priest seemed to have no resentment higher than personal. The sacrifice has been completed-the fist hit the holy face again and again. This must be the reason for him to stop, which caused a big hand to raise an angry throat.
In just a few seconds or so, he became angry at the white-skinned man who dared to oppose him. Dean felt his hands shut by his throat. He was so weak and so exhausted, he didn't try to tear it apart. He is dead-how many seconds or less does life matter? Then, he knew that his right hand was free, which made him excited.
The hand fumbled and pulled the gun from the smoking leather holster. He could barely control his numb, blistering fingers, but somehow he twisted the trigger. From a distance, he faintly heard forty-five roars... Then, from the depression deep in his heart, he summoned the last ounce of power to free him from the fallen body.
He instinctively removed himself from the hot rock. The same effort made his big bronze opponent falter, stumble, and retreat. Dean lay on the stone floor. The heat he lay there was barely red. He heard the desperate screams of the huge figure shaking, hanging in the air for a while on the black outline, above a stone wall. A white-hot pit then dumped, leaned forward, and then disappeared.
He was sick and dizzy, forcing himself to put his body on his hands and knees. Then he straightened his body, stood up, and walked forward.
B
Under him is. The sea facing him swayed and blurred before his eyes. Other characters came from the distant arch. He saw a wire of metal, heard the sound of a horn, and knew that the hundreds of red under him were standing stiffly, and when another barbarian entered, his hands were raised in salute. The air is hoarse and calls are repeated. "--!" The red man screamed. "--!"
But Li Huai couldn't wait to see more. Behind him, the flames filled with human flesh-if it were indeed these red flames-were humans roaring again. When he stood up for the first time, he had put the pistol back in the holster. His soft hands seemed unable to hold it. Now, when he blindly opened to the tunnel entrance, his two hands stretched forward.
That is where he appeared on the platform. With his outstretched hand, he found the side door of the staircase leading to the hall. In the darkness, he walked over. He stumbled feebly, and walked along the long tunnel, the floor of the tunnel tilted slightly away.
In front of him is a lamp. The relative coolness of these rocks made him a little angry. He had no hope of escape, but the light seemed to be comforting in some way.
He stopped. His eyes opened. He stared in disbelief at the distant wall, there must be a luminous spot of flame and the figure below.
The figure of a woman! A young, tall, slender, blonde woman, with white, milky white skin, whiter than snow.
A woman? It was a simple girl, slender and beautiful, her graceful young body was ready to go, as if caught in a fast flight and kept quiet for a while.
What is she doing here? His exhausted brain cannot understand its meaning. He had seen rat race women and men mingling. Like them, their heads are pointed, their faces are weird and ugly. There was a vague scream, and he staggered forward.
Between him and the distant figures, a group of Red Army came in. They come from a connected channel. Above them, green flames spurted from the top of the flamethrower's lava. When he was crying, everyone's face turned to him.
Except for them, the white figure disappeared. Dean leaned weakly against the wall, telling himself dimly that it was a phantom, the product of his own desperate brain and his own weakness. Then that weakness overcame him. The red ratman, white and ugly eyes, and the threatening green flame jet disappeared in the rapid darkness that swept him.
The unconscious black curtain soon fell on Li Badi. For hours, days or weeks, he didn't know how long he was lying in the castle of the Red Army to entangle him.
It didn't take him a while to wake up. When he was in a semi-coma, the impressions given to him were varied, and he could not tell which ones were reality and which were dreams.
He was tortured by the knife, and the spear stabbed, causing him to be pulled from the dark depths where he was lying. Dimly, he realized that his clothes had been taken away, and the piercing knife was still real, because his hands were only hands and rough cloth on the newly foamed body. Then from head to toe, he was coated with a cool and moist substance. The pain only throbbed and died, and he felt himself in a coma again.
There are other visions, many visions, some of which are plain and vivid, and some of his feverish brains are vague and fearful, trying in vain to bring order and reason into complete chaos.
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