Although he was worse than the other party's interests and hobbies, Xue Yijie knew that all the vitality of his side was now in the hands of that man, or the victory or defeat of the other party's battle with Bloody Mark would directly determine his life and death. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

He quietly touched the only short knife left at his feet, and quietly turned sideways in the direction of the bloody mark, he lowered his head and his eyes were cold, and he was just about to get up, but Qin Qing, who had bled too much and had almost entered the dying realm, pulled the hem of his clothes.

"No...... Don't go, ...... Come on. You...... The current state ...... No......"

Qin Qing gasped, tried hard to say these words, and coughed again. The coughing sound tugs on the nerve fibers, and the irritated wound shrinks for a while.

Xue Yijie's eyes flickered, he looked at Qin Qing's pale but firm eyes, and the short knife in his hand slowly loosened. He hugged Qin Qing and finally fell to his knees on one leg in the rainy alley.

The bloody little Mark's body after the 'liberation' has been freed from the shackles of human flesh, because of the change in the nature of life, the basic quality of his body has been more or less strengthened, compared with the previous human Mark, if you want to say, the strength is at least thirty percent stronger, but the character is much more fiery than the silence and calmness in the human form.

In fact, the so-called Bloody Little Mark was valued by the organization, even if he made many heinous mistakes, he still refused to change his teachings, and almost reached the point of ****** and was still not given up by the organization, precisely because the bloody Little Mark has such a strong and unlimited potential.

This newborn body is full of power, and the bloody little Mark is addicted to it more than anyone else, and understands the horror of this power better. He had used this body, with the power in this body beyond the limits of human beings, to defeat, torture and even crush all kinds of powerful enemies, including the conceited and arrogant poor old man, who was also his adult martial arts teacher, Fist Saint Ferrando!

But the masked man in front of him actually said, 'It's game over', this poor clown, he regarded all this as a game, he was really arrogant, you must know that even his teacher Fist Saint Ferrando did not say such a thing when facing him.

The invisible huge aura was surging around the Bloody Mark, and his hair was tossed up by the momentum, and the hunting sound was rattled. Bloody Mark's scarlet pupils shimmered in the night, and his blood-red tongue rubbed against his lips like the sound of dead wood striking each other.

He was angry.

Anger propelled Bloody Mark's power to the top, and he almost forgot what it was like to be looked down upon, how many years ago, those insanely humiliating memories.

Never provoke the angry and crazy Mr. Mark, this is an unspoken rule that has been passed down in the organization, and it is also a survival secret. But it was clear that the boy with the mask in front of him didn't understand this.

The tiger will not bother with the rabbit, but when the rabbit does not know whether to live or die and actively provoke the tiger, then the tiger will not mind giving the other person a lesson that will last a lifetime. Bloody Mark grieved deeply for the poor masked man, because in the next moment, he would tear apart the other man's flesh and bite his throat.

The great horror of all this, Griffith's dull dazedness, in fact, so far, the probability of surviving the Anomalous at the hands of Bloody Mark in his present state......

It's zero.

The masked man chattered to himself, his voice was small and dense, and there was a tiresome sense of noise chattering from an old woman in the deep village who had never seen the world, and the content of his words was even more exaggerated and unashamed:

"It's game over, Mark, you know what, you're just a bit of a stronger monkey, Mark...... The day of judgment is at last coming for you weak sin......

How am I going to execute you, let me think, well, let me kill you with one punch......

Hey, dear Mr. Mark, let's talk about something, you stand still, let me fight, okay......"

The noisy voice leaked into Mark's ears bit by bit, and although Griffith spoke in a low tone, almost whispering to himself, the bloody Mark, who had been alienated into a new species, still heard it in his ears word for word, which made every word imprint his nerves like a soldering iron, reminding him of the coldness of that damp prison in those years.

Bloody Mark's tightrope-like muscles twitched, his mouth opened and closed like a catfish, his teeth clenched together, and he hated the noisy man. His expression and momentum were gloomy, as if to say, 'You're done, you're done, you're done!' I ate your ......'

According to the previous comparison of the strength of the two sides, Bloody Mark has enough strength and reason to blow Griffith. Before he transformed, the bloody little Mark was able to fight one-on-one with Griffith, and he didn't fall behind, and now that Mr. Mark is fully liberated, and his combat effectiveness has been upgraded to the point where he is afraid, logically speaking, he should be able to send Griffith to drink herbal tea very calmly and easily.

But the battle that followed was far from what people imagined, and the process of the battle, weird, concise, and final, was almost like what Griffith had said before—I'll kill you with one punch.

The masked man reached into his arms, fumbled for a moment, and pulled out a pair of silver gloves from his inner pocket.

Griffith blew with his mouth on the mouth of the glove, filling the glove and placing it on his left hand.

Then he reached into his arms with his left hand with a silver glove, and after a while, he found something in the shape of a large barb. The barb was also silver, and it looked like it was at least five or six pounds, and there was no sign of it being loaded from Griffith's thin outfit before.

With a silver glove in one hand and a silver hook in the other, Griffith grinned at the figure on the other side of the darkness and cracked his mouth, his mouth like he was saying something like 'I'm coming, I'm going to kill you,' his body bent like a cheetah, one leg dragged behind him, and the other leg slammed into the muscles.

The recoil force drove Griffith almost parallel to the ground at a rapid speed, and the rain and fog were instantly knocked out of a vacuum channel.

As the battle raged, Bloody Mark, who had mutated and completely alien to a human, roared, propped up his two sharp forearms, ran, recoiled, and collided head-on with the figure.

The sound of breaking through the air, the angry roar of wild beasts, and the sound of flesh crashing into people's eardrums overlapped in a very short time. The huge impact flickered in the darkness, and the aftermath of the impact rippled in the rain curtain, clearly visible in mid-air.

Two indomitable forces collided sharply together, like two cars meeting on a narrow road, each driving to the maximum speed of the car.

Such a duel is direct and brutal, with a hard consciousness that if you don't crush others, you will be crushed.

In a tooth-stinging, screeching metal scream, Griffith and Bloody Little Mark collided head-on. In the darkness, the short collision and staggering of the sparks with a few slices of weapons rubbing, the figures collided together, seemed to pause, and then the boy with the mask dragged the humanoid monster straight into the darkness at an even more frantic speed.

Griffith's pale silver gloves pulled out a long ray of light in the darkness, and the gloved palm curled inwards to hook Bloody Mark's chin, dragging the other party backwards, and pressing the palm of the hand against the other's face.

Bloody Mark was originally rushing forward with an indomitable momentum, but he was suddenly wronged and hooked his chin, and then the momentum of the entire forward rush was instantly reversed by the huge force coming from his chin, and his entire body almost floated off the ground under the huge inertia. He was dragged into the darkness by Griffith in that half-floating posture with his body almost level with the ground.

Then came the loud crash of his life, as Griffith slammed Bloody Mark's head against the wall, so loud that the floor of the alley seemed to shake.

In the darkness, there was another murmuring sound, and the green bricks with grass growing on the walls were shaken down one after another and fell to the ground.

The wall that had been hit by the Bloody Mark was dripping with blood, and a sunken spiderweb-shaped crack radiated on the wall, leaking a few grains of fine sand from time to time.

Bloody little Mark's skull was cracked a little by the blow, and blood was pouring down. His cerebellum was concussed, accompanied by dizziness and nausea, and Mark's ears were ringing violently.

He stumbled to his feet, and in his blurred vision, a ghosted boy in a mask walked straight up to Mark's face with a brick covered in grass in his hand, and a brick slapped on Mark's face, causing blood to flow.

Little Mark was directly knocked down by a brick and fell down stiffly. Griffith smiled and took out the silver hook and walked to Bloody Little Mark, he kicked the other man in the face, and when he saw that there was no response, he crouched down and inserted the hook into Bloody Little Mark's body.

A flash of lightning swept across the sky, illuminating the distant peaks and the depths of the alleys, the living and unusual things that were unfolding.

Piercing Bloody Little Mark's jaw with a silver barb, Griffith picked him up and hung him on the wall.

Bloody Mark's body twitched and hung in the air, and he shook in the wind like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered in front of a butcher's shop.

Although Griffith was covered in blood, his body was cut by the other party in the fierce impact, and it was oozing blood. But he was in a good mood, and even whispered a little song. So he flipped his wrist and came up with a bunch of silver knives that had been put together in a fan-shape. There were more than a dozen knives in total, and the handles were arranged in a standard semicircular fan shape on the outside and on the tip of the knife.

Griffith's fingers jumped happily on the hilt of the silver knife, his eyes closed, his mouth muttering something like 'whoever the little hits', he randomly clicked a knife, and his fingers drew a red circle on the skin of Mark's chest, and then cut off a piece of fresh, red breast meat around the red circle.