There were only five bullets in Murakami's miniature pistol, and he couldn't help Long Xiaoqi. After the shot, he was still standing in place, still holding a bottle of wine and a goblet of blood in his right hand.

"Very average rapid-fire." Long Xiaoqi cocked Erlang's legs and grinned: "Your rapid-fire is completely based on the performance of the pistol itself, for this rapid-fire, I will give you a bad review." You know, the real rapid-fire does not rely on the performance of the pistol, and the real rapid-fire competition is not how fast it is at all. Its speed lies in the fact that you can shoot several enemies at close range in the shortest amount of time.

Even a Desert Eagle with a rifle bolt can complete rapid fire. By the way, to teach you a little more, rapid fire of pistols is done using the movement of the body. In evasion, all the living forces are eliminated as quickly as possible, which is the rapid fire of a pistol. Really, I can only give you a bad review for this kind of rapid fire of yours, but I want to give you a thumbs up for your attitude. ”

Long Xiaoqi is still leisurely, but his leisurely self-satisfaction is only strategic contempt, and in terms of tactics, he no longer dares to take it lightly. And what he said about the rapid-fire theory is done correctly, this is not a competition of speed. If rapid-fire is all about the speed of fire, a person who has never received professional training can also excel with the performance of a pistol.

He despised Murakami's rapid fire and fired five shots in a row, without even touching his hair. It's not that Murakami's rapid-fire is too bad, it's that he knows the completion of rapid-fire pistol rapid-fire for a professional soldier. Because it is clear, he can avoid it without thinking. Although this is full of adventure, when is his life not an adventure?

I despise you, I despise you, what can you do? Pistols can't kill people, and you still TM to chase and kill Lao Tzu, you are really brave enough!

Facing Long Xiaoqi, who despised him, Murakami showed unprecedented solemnity. He took a step to the side, put the tray on the table, and nodded lightly to Long Xiaoqi.

"Please advise!" Murakami made a bloodthirsty voice.

"Wait!" Long Xiaoqi stood up suddenly, and shouted with a serious face: "You used to be a professional soldier, and I am also a professional soldier, I don't know if your ancestors participated in the war of aggression against China?" Answer me! ”

Today, 80 percent of the Japanese ancestors have participated in the war of aggression against China, and at that time, the vast China was the biggest battlefield for the devils. In the later stage of the fight, they directly captured strong men from the country and sent them to the battlefield, and almost all the men in the country were arrested. At the beginning of the war of aggression against China, the devil's troops were still real soldiers, pursuing the spirit of bushido, and some soldiers even treated and helped the common people in the occupied areas - this is not a beautification, but a fact.

Real soldiers never bother to kill ordinary people. In their philosophy, war is a war between soldiers and soldiers. In addition, many of the soldiers in the early days were samurai at all, so the behavior was far less vile.

But in the middle and late stages, with the expansion of the battle line and the death and wounding of soldiers, batch after batch of soldiers were pulled over from the country. But these soldiers don't know anything about the spirit of bushido, and they come here to kill. Those who kill are all evil, they are only soldiers, but they are not soldiers. The two seem to be similar, but they are very different.

Music knows no borders, art knows no borders, but few people know that true professional soldiers also have no borders.

"My grandfather was a ...... of the 15th Separate Aviation Regiment of the Kwantung Army"

"I see!" Long Xiaoqi interrupted Murakami's words and said in a loud voice: "Your grandfather must have been a samurai, right?" ”

"Yes, he's a real samurai!" Murakami looked proud.

Samurai, a symbol of honor, is the spirit of the so-called Yamato in Japan. Every samurai is respected, and if a samurai appears in a family, everyone's face will shine.

"Good! Then we'll fight in a samurai way! Long Xiaoqi bared his teeth and said: "Your grandfather was a criminal during the war of aggression against China, and my grandfather was a hero during the Anti-Japanese War. You stand on your national standpoint, I stand on my national standpoint, let's have a decisive battle of samurai, whether you are the sick man of East Asia or we are the sick man of East Asia, it is up to us to decide! ”

From the samurai to the level of the state, and then to the higher point of belonging to the sick man of East Asia...... In a short period of time, Long Xiaoqi adjusted the atmosphere, and the entire private room was filled with the stark opposition between countries and the tough collision between nations. And after the height rose, Murakami's heart that he was a professional soldier was completely activated, and of course he was willing to defeat Long Xiaoqi in a decisive battle.

"Okay, let's fight the samurai way!" Murakami looked enthusiastic.

The two countries belong to a feud, and they instantly cut into the battle of dignity between countries. When cutting into this kind of battle, Murakami forgot his identity as a killer, his sense of belonging, and his sense of honor made him ignore his current profession and turn to national righteousness.

"Good! But let me go to the toilet first! Long Xiaoqi squinted his eyes and said coldly, "You won't sneak attack when I go to the toilet, right?" You're a descendant of a samurai family, you ......."

"Humph!" Murakami snorted coldly, dismissive.

He stood there with his arms crossed, and with this gesture he was not the kind of person who was petty.

"I believe in the samurai spirit, and I believe in you, wait for me for a minute, I'll go in and pee and come out." Long Xiaoqi strode towards the bathroom.

"Bang!"

The bathroom door was tightly closed.

Muramura didn't even look at the bathroom, and he wasn't afraid that Long Xiaoqi would escape at all. The bathroom in this box is different from the outside, and he has to understand the environment of this box before he comes, so he is not worried at all. He wants to kill Long Xiaoqi head-on, prove that the Yamato nation is the best, and use his actions to tell everyone that China's professional soldiers are nothing more than that!

Walking into the bathroom, Long Xiaoqi did one thing: removed the toilet lid and squatted in the corner, shrunk into a ball and got under the sink, and blocked his body with the toilet lid.

He pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.

At the same time, Murakami in the box heard a string of pleasant mobile phone ringtones. The moment he heard the bell, his whole face changed greatly.

"Eight-Grid Tooth Road !!"

Murakami scolded angrily and ran away.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Bang!"

"Boom la la ......"

Two violent explosions rang out, and behind the box door, the ceiling of the box collapsed at the same time. The glass of the windows could not withstand the shock wave of the explosion and burst one after another.

Countless fragments and debris flew in all directions, and Murakami was suddenly enveloped in it.

Even if he avoided it at the first time, even if he used the table and chair as a cover, he couldn't avoid the impact of the Heavenly Maiden's scattered flowers at all.

The fragments pierced into his body mercilessly, turning into a bloody man in an instant......