Bloody Little Mark, formerly known as Mark Beines Ryan, was the second son of Baron Beins, a declining European nobleman. www.biquge.info When he was young, he used to be a polite person who paid attention to aristocratic etiquette and adhered to aristocracy.

At the age of twelve, the political world was turbulent, and Mark's father, Baron Beins, was unfortunately imprisoned, and even Mark's mother, sister, and Mark himself, who had lived a prosperous life for many years, were imprisoned.

Politics is dark, and after Baron Beins was imprisoned, someone soon fell into the trap. Pressure from enemies and friends soon plunged the Baron into a bottomless abyss, where all sorts of slanders and accusations were laid down against him and his family, and poor Baron Beines became a victim and scapegoat for politics.

Night replaced day, and in the middle of the night, the most horrible and dirty things awoke and touched Mark's young cheek.

It was little Mark, who was still innocent as a child, who had witnessed the repeated brutal humiliation of his sister and mother, and the stout men who were naked and naked in brass, howling excitedly by the fire, wielding whips and playing with the two poor women with hemp rope and red-hot irons.

The young Mark was terrified, and he begged for mercy with all he could, wagging his tail like a dog, but all he got was whipping, ridicule, and more exuberant humiliation.

The sound of moans and howls echoed through the prison day and night, and the men finally tortured the two poor women to death, sawing them open and burning them into soup for Mark to drink.

It was Mark, tormented and dying, nervously numb and submissive, almost like a docile pastoral dog that could do anything with a whip in the hands of his master or master.

But that month's fears were not over, and then Baron Beins was forced to humiliate and beat little Mark, who saw his father weeping and wielding a knife to maim his body, and something in his mind that had been built up for more than ten years shattered like glass.

Little Mark looked at the figures outside his cell and laughed wildly, and often thought that they seemed to enjoy this cannibalistic game, which made them excited.

But in the end, Baron Beins died, and he was asked to cut open little Mark's belly and stuff it with cotton wool. The baron's only remaining conscience led him to choose the side of his family in the midst of his struggle, so he was quickly killed, his belly was gouged open, the entrails and intestines were dug up, and he was stuffed with cotton wool and sewn back, not knowing where he was transported.

And the scum that had been dug up from the guts, intestines, and flesh had become a blood-red juice of minced meat, and the trick was repeated for Mark to drink day by day.

After this, Mark fell ill and almost died. He was decomposed and thrown into a corner of the prison, like a rotten head of flesh that no one cared about.

At that time, the young Mark thought that he was going to die, and he watched indifferently as the warning was playing with his body with an iron rod, covering his nose in disgust.

It was like a long, long nightmare, and he saw many people coming and going while he was half asleep. He saw a huge sea of blood, where seagulls were chewing at carrion.

Later, little Mark awakened the 'chakra', which is an ability that I don't know if it is inherited from the ancestors or formed by genetic mutation. It gives Mark Jr. super stable hands, good dynamic vision, and a sense of trajectory prediction that is far beyond the average person, all of which together allow Mark to perform subtle operations that ordinary people can't imagine, and even move large volumes of cells with his bare hands with the help of a microscope.

With the help of chakras and long observations of the prison guards' schedules, Mark is like a delicate cog, capturing the smallest details. Finally, one day, when the jailer was delivering food to him, he seized the gap in the patrol and used the perfect killing technique like a scalpel to make the jailer die before he could even make a sound.

After that, as if he had rehearsed countless times, Mark evaded thirteen sentry posts without any rehearsal, opened six locks with his bare hands, killed two guards, and finally managed to escape from the famous aristocratic prison - Wissenburg Prison.

For the next five years, Mark continued to enrich his abilities, encouraging himself with hatred and pain, and launched a brutal hunt for the jailers and their families.

This kind of hunt carries a lot of blood and casualties, Mark has been wounded, killed, and wounded, and the scars on his body are as dense as centipedes. Mark 'collects' the people who have directly or indirectly hurt him and places them in a huge basement where he has built a huge iron cage in the style of a prison, and he places them in the same way as poor little Mark did in the first place.

He frantically tortured them, mutilated them, ate them, and enjoyed the pleasure of their fears.

Then one day, Mark discovers that he has no one to slaughter.

After that, little Mark suffered from a rare disease of hemophilia, which, according to psychiatrists, is a psychological stress response to intense external stimuli. Mark can't remember when this illness began, perhaps when he ate his mother's flesh, or when he drank his father's blood, or when he began to feast on human flesh like crazy.

The so-called hemophilia is a condition of extreme thirst for blood and dependence on blood. Just like people smoke marijuana and become addicted, little Mark also has an irresistible dependence on blood, and that dependence is like a normal person's dependence on water, which is a normal need for the necessities of life.

So, in order to get the necessities of life, Mr. Mark Jr. did a lot of unpleasant things for mankind. Later, when he joined the anomalous organization, he became even more at home, and the fame of Bloody Little Mark began to spread.

Today's Mr. Mark is no longer in the cardamom years of his old age, he is already a bearded uncle in his thirties. The boy who was imprisoned in the Wisenburg prison and shrugged in the corner is now able to take charge on his own.

The years have matured men, and compared with the absurd and nonsensical years of his youth, Mr. Mark now seems more stable and decent. The years have given him a fairly strong figure, an experience that is not shocked, and a good eloquence with a lot of humor.

There was a time when Mr. Mark's mantra was, 'I've lived in Wissenburg for three years......

Because of the rarity of the chakra's ability, the bloody little Mark has been a gunman, a sniper and assassinated many important political figures, which can be described as a famous murderer, and he is also a hot newcomer within the organization, and he can still climb up in status, but at the same time, Mr. Mark needs to be responsible for some tragic village massacres in the black African region because of his special hobby, and the organization has spent a lot of money for this, and the promotion and salary increase of the bloody little Mark has been stranded.

Putting aside these messy things, Mr. Mark, who is well-fed and well-fed, is actually a good talker, and last Christmas he was also pulled out by the landlord in the middle of the night to nod and do a review because the garbage classification was not handled well.

This time he came to China on a mission, Mark didn't bring a gun, he was a good gunner, in fact, anyone with chakra abilities would be a good gunner.

"If only my little darling Kalia had two guns."

Griffith looked at the bloody little Mark and muttered to himself as he touched his forehead tangled, and looked up at the cold night sky.

Tonight there were dark clouds, a light rain, and through the thick clouds, only a small number of them were projected down, making it difficult to distinguish.

Griffith counted the time, he had been pestered by the other party for more than five minutes, his expression wrinkled under the mask, he was thinking about the lack of dinner and his stomach screamed out of place.

"It was a hungry and cold night."

Griffith left Kira on the side of the road and sighed alone. He took off the coat he had stolen from the clothing store, revealing a white T-shirt and lean, well-defined muscles.

Folding his clothes and stacking them aside, Griffith shook his head and spread his legs in the middle of the road:

"Now, show you the way, buy me a big pork rib noodles in five minutes, and I won't pursue what you offended me tonight.

You are really lucky, I have lived in the countryside for a few years, and through the nourishment of the deep mountains and green waters, I have a much better temper now, and where would I talk so much nonsense to you in previous years, or in the first few years of previous years......

Oh, what are you doing standing stupidly, don't you know that hungry people usually have a bad temper?! ”

Griffith stood in the middle of the road, headless and brainless. The red-haired boy's mind had been blank for a long time from the shock of tonight's events, and when he heard Griffith's words, he reflexively whispered that he had something to eat.

Griffith ignored him, and walked through the red-haired young man as if he were air, and walked to the side of the White Bear and Mary.

Griffith's momentum was at its best under this strange dialogue, and he tore open his lips and licked his scarlet lips, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.

Then the battle was about to break out, and Griffith, who was free of his hands, was like a long arrow that was off the road, and the figure flickered in the dark, like a hallucination, and was divided into three at once, and the figures were divided and combined, and the shadows were wrong, and the hungry **** desire was crowded in the narrow alley.

But of course, one person does not split into three, so when you open your eyes and look closely, you will find that the boy with the mask is walking alone from beginning to end.

Huge white air currents burst out from the staggered figures, swirling and seeming to be bubbling hot air.

The white steam dissipated, revealing three figures standing in a staggered manner, the small figures with their backs to everyone, and incorporated Xue Yijie's short knife into his sleeve that he didn't know when it arrived in his hand.