svetikya Page 77
Page 77
They were all members of the fraternity, had a history of doing drugs and soliciting prostitutes together, and had even participated in gang activities and committed murder.
They're so close that they can even share their wives.
The car navigation system beeped to indicate that the destination had been reached, but Charleson, immersed in the excitement of music and drugs, did not respond.
It wasn't until the navigation system issued its second and third warnings that he realized he needed to stop and slammed on the brakes.
With a screeching sound of brakes, the SUV came to a close stop in front of a utility pole, its front end almost touching it.
The loud music continued to blare, and Charleson excitedly turned around and shouted to his companions, "Alright, guys!"
Tonight, I'll show you what true excellence is!
I just love Asian women!
In the back seat, a white man with a full beard grinned, revealing a lustful smile.
Charleson smiled smugly and said, "I like it too!"
However, the "goods" we've prepared for you today aren't the kind of girls you can just pay to have sex with.
They were all "good girls" obtained through special means; it didn't matter if they didn't use condoms!
"Charson, you're fucking amazing!"
Another person pounded on the seat and loudly flattered.
Charleson unbuckled his seatbelt, pushed open the car door, jumped out, and continued his animated description: "You'll thank me even more later!"
Japanese women have no unpleasant body odor, and their skin is as white as milk, smooth and delicate to the touch.
Most importantly, it's very soft!
Very moisturizing!
He spoke with great enthusiasm, spittle flying everywhere.
For him, the greatest advantage of being stationed in Japan, besides being able to use his position to traffic drugs for huge profits, was being able to enjoy Japanese women to his heart's content.
Compared to most white women in the United States who have a strong body odor, are as hairy as "un-evolved gorillas," and need regular hair removal surgery, Japanese women seem like beautiful creations from another world.
After his first experience with American women, he lost all interest in them.
He strode into the courtyard, followed by four friends who were laughing and joking behind him.
The deafening music from the SUV continued to blare through the streets, as if they didn't care whether it disturbed the residents.
The five people were in a state of extreme excitement and confusion.
Charleson didn't even bother to knock; he simply turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, and called out in English, "Hey! We're here!"
Qingze glanced at the five people who filed in, and without exception, a bright red "Demon" tag floated above their heads.
"This is truly an unexpected bonus."
He couldn't help but sigh in his heart, "Good people are still rewarded."
Charleson also saw the scene in the living room.
Blood splattered across the marble floor like ink, several heads with wide, lifeless eyes were scattered everywhere, and headless corpses lay twisted in pools of blood.
The strong smell of blood instantly filled my nostrils.
However, this hellish scene did not frighten Charles in the slightest, and even the four people behind him had an expression of indifference.
Having experienced the brutality of gang warfare in the United States, they had witnessed far more horrific clashes, and this "small scene" was hardly enough to move them.
"Hey, what's this? A new performance?"
"I know! This outfit belongs to a Japanese samurai, right?"
Another person pointed at Qingze's mask and knife, speaking in a flippant tone.
"I don't care if he's a samurai or not!"
Charles impatiently interrupted his companion's guess, pulled an M18 pistol from his waist, pointed the muzzle at Qingze, and asked in a nasty tone, "Hey, the one with the mask!"
I only ask you, are you here to serve us, or have you killed off all those who were supposed to serve us?
He didn't know anything about "foxes".
For a U.S. brigadier general stationed in Japan, he had little interest in anything in the country except women and drugs.
The short videos he usually watches are all from the United States.
Qingze's voice, coming through the mask, carried a slow, cold tone: "To you, I could probably be called the Grim Reaper."
"An abbreviation for a dead god? Haha!"
Charson chuckled at the suggestion, and then, without warning, pulled the trigger.
In his view, there was no point in wasting words with a pretentious guy; if there were any questions, let the bullets ask!
boom!
Deafening gunshots rang out in the spacious living room.
However, even before the bullet leaves the barrel, Qingze's powerful perception ability is like a precision radar, completely capturing and predicting the bullet's trajectory, speed, and final landing point.
Therefore, almost at the same time that Charles pulled the trigger, Qingze's left hand had already been raised.
The tips of the thumb and forefinger, encased in black gloves, suddenly emitted a strong emerald green light.
He is currently unable to evenly distribute magic throughout his body; he can only focus on strengthening specific limbs.
Moreover, the smaller the area where magic is concentrated, the higher the intensity and precision of its instantaneous burst.
He compressed his magic to its maximum into his two fingertips, and with precision and stability, he pinched the oncoming bullet.
Snapped!
The sound was as crisp as crushing a nut shell.
He held the bullet, still reeking of gunpowder, firmly between his two fingers.
"what?!"
All five people wore expressions of disbelief and astonishment. Some even rubbed their eyes unconsciously, wondering if they were experiencing severe hallucinations due to a drug overdose.
But Charson was experienced in using this drug and knew the dosage and effects well.
He knew very well that the dosage just now was far from enough to create such a realistic hallucination.
"Green, am I... am I seeing things? It looks like he's holding the bullet in his hand?"
"Impossible! That's a bullet!!"
Charleson retorted in a shrill voice, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
The M18 pistol in his hand has a muzzle velocity of 365 meters per second, exceeding the speed of sound.
How could a human possibly catch a supersonic bullet with their bare hands?!
Qingze is indeed still unable to surpass the speed of sound.
However, with the aid of his ultimate perception, he could predict the bullet's path and prepare in advance to intercept it.
Even so, this is still an act that completely overturns the limits of human physiology.
He did this simply to test for himself whether his speed, enhanced by magic, was faster or slower than that of a bullet.
The current conclusion is that he is still unable to reach supersonic speeds in terms of absolute linear velocity.
Having achieved his testing objective, Qingze no longer hesitated.
He gripped the hilt of the "Oni-Tetsu" sword tightly with his right hand and pushed off with his feet in an instant.
Magic surged into his legs like a flood.
Swish!
After absorbing the magic power of Nagashima Eika and others, his speed became even faster than before, and his movements even created a clear whistling sound of wind pressure.
The distance of several meters was instantly erased.
Charleson's pupils constricted, and he roared, "Bastard! Die!!"
He tried to lower the gun.
But the crimson blade light had already risen from below, like a blood-red crescent moon.
Charleson felt a lightness in his right arm, and then lost all sensation in it.
He looked down blankly, and the last thing he saw was that eerie crimson blade of light, carrying his gushing blood, as it lightly swept across his neck.
"Fuck! Get him!"
The other four roared like wild beasts.
Under the powerful effects of the drugs, their fear was suppressed, and their minds were filled only with a violent rage to avenge their friend.
However, anger is meaningless in the face of an absolute disparity in strength.
Qingze's expression remained unchanged as he wielded the "Ghost Blade" in his hand with an elegant and graceful demeanor, unlike the killing he was engaged in. Instead, it resembled a painter wielding a brush, exuding an almost artistic and ethereal quality.
However, beneath this ethereal grace lies a chilling murderous intent.
The blade flashed repeatedly, like the Grim Reaper's scythe slicing through wheat stalks.
Almost simultaneously, blood gushed from the throats of the four men, as if from a fountain.
They didn't even have time to utter a sound before collapsing limply to the ground, joining the ever-expanding pool of blood in the entryway.
Five scarlet rays of light, one after the other, simultaneously entered Qingze's brow.
The total amount of magic power in the dantian increased significantly once again.
Qingze could clearly feel that the magic that was originally like a trickle had now gathered into a fairly large "stream".
When will we see the next breakthrough?
He clenched his fist gently, filled with anticipation for the day he would advance to a higher level.
Then, he turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the corpses scattered on the ground, before settling on the six women who were still unconscious.
Qingze believes it is necessary to notify someone to properly resettle them.
He walked to the landline phone in the corner of the living room and dialed the Metropolitan Police Department's "Fox Hotline".