Nighthawk listened to Matsumoto's almost impersonal account of such a tragic thing, and it seemed that he didn't take the lives of the Huaxia people seriously at all. The cheeks were on fire, the muscles on the face were bruised, the beads of sweat the size of beans dripped down the temples one by one, and the cold hair stood upside down, eager to kill Matsumoto with one shot now. Let him pay the due price for his arrogance and unkindness.

Matsumoto stared intently at Nighthawk, and all of Nighthawk's anger turned into a light mist that gradually dispersed when it reached him, as if he had already gained immunity in this area.

Without looking at the angry expressions of these killers, Matsumoto stomped them all under his feet and said without any scruples: "Don't look at me like this, Shina, the weak clan will never be worthy of the desire to live." Your life and death are only in the hands of those who are capable, and that is our great Fuso people. ”

"I'm sorry, you shameless little devils are all descendants of our garbage gene Wu Dalang." The monkey jumped up in anger and pointed at Matsumoto and scolded indiscriminately.

Matsumoto looked at the Nighthawk with disdain, and said contemptuously: "My father told the shogun at the time that I was a dignified samurai, and I was an excellent soldier of the Daifuso Empire. If on the battlefield, although I killed tens of millions of people and walked on the sea of corpses and blood, I would go alone and never frown. On the contrary, it is also a great opportunity for me to accomplish something that will last forever.

But in this city occupied by the Imperial Army, the massacre of these unarmed civilians is something I can never do, soldiers, to die on the battlefield, not to be humiliated in the market.

Your Excellency, I don't know how these low-ranking people have angered your supreme authority, but I am now willing to use my life to defeat the twenty strongest men here, and use their heads to appease your anger, please. Matsumoto took a deep breath, as if he had returned to the bloody alley of that time, and he himself was standing beside his father, watching his father bend his noble knees and prostrate himself to beg the fat general in front of him, who was only a civilian.

"After all, the noble Matsumoto family is not something that an ordinary general can provoke, and in a dilemma, he has to save his own face and give my father a step. It just so happened that my father made this request himself, and the general naturally readily agreed. He picked up his father, encouraged him, and then slowly stepped aside as if he was watching a good show, waiting for his father's ugly appearance.

Although you are a low-class family, it is undeniable that you Chinese people are still very accomplished in martial arts. For a martial arts idiot, when it comes to noble martial arts, Matsumoto can't help but show reverence, and his mouth also changed the Chinese people to Huaxia people, it seems that he still has a deep admiration for Huaxia's martial arts.

As if he had enough of longing, Matsumoto restored his cold face and said slowly: "In order to survive, you people have picked 20 strong men among these people, all of whom are reckless men who have practiced some kung fu.

My father was holding the sword, and look, it was the treasure knife in my hand, the supreme weapon of the Matsumoto family. Matsumoto patted the sword in his hand and said with arrogance: "In the face of 20 people who want to bully the less, he has no fear at all, he pulls out the knife, grasps the handle of the knife with both hands, and gently places it in front of him, just waiting for the moment when the people of China attack with all their might."

All the people present, including the general, stared at their father closely. A peerless murderous aura swirled around his father, dripping straight onto the blade, emitting a cold aura that made the people who besieged him shudder, and the pores on his body stood up.

These people could no longer stand the pressure of the powerful murderous aura, and rushed towards my father with a roar of rage. Father just smiled.

Father moved, and there was thunder and lightning between heaven and earth, but for a short moment, everyone only saw that father drew a shining white circle of light in the air.

There was silence all around, and in the midst of everyone's stunned eyes, 20 people stopped running in unison. The throat was like a bursting fountain, and with a snort, blood rose to the sky, staining half of my father's body red.

There is only one knife, a peerless knife technique from the infinite shadow of mystery, in just a moment, the father has inserted the knife into the sheath, 20 people slowly fell to the ground, and the scene only sounded with a bang on the ground, quiet as a dead land.

My father saved the lives of thousands of people, and the price was only the head of these 20 people. Matsumoto smiled at the corner of his mouth, telling the glorious history of his father's transcendent ascension, and he didn't look at the nighthawk who was already trembling with anger and green tendons.

"In your eyes, the lives of these twenty people are insignificant, but after all, they are human lives, human lives are greater than the sky, how can you damn Fusang devils, have the right to run to our Huaxia territory to disregard human lives." Nighthawk's voice was hoarse, his body was overly tense, and his muscles were tensed. The footsteps were slightly slanted, if it weren't for the scruples of Monroe in his hands. At this moment, we have to go on a killing spree and teach this damn devil a good lesson.

Matsumoto smiled and said disapprerovingly, "History is always written by the strong, and what the strong sue you is always the truth will always be." Saving the already corrupted bodies of thousands of people with the lives of these 20 people is already the greatest mercy of the Imperial Samurai to you. The law of survival is the law of survival. It's a pity that you people still don't understand, it seems that I think highly of you. Nighthawk jumped up angrily, and just as he wanted to refute, he was stopped by Matsumoto waving his hand.

"It's useless to say more, this is the difference in our position, Fusang wants to develop, we must occupy your land, instead of letting you, the people who only know how to fight in the nest all day long, and the rotten people of China come to occupy the beautiful rivers and mountains, it is better to give us hard-working Fusang people, we will build it more beautiful."

Matsumoto laughed, and then his face sank. Said slowly: "Don't talk nonsense, I told you this story, didn't I want you to refute it for me and educate me on what to do, don't you understand what I mean?" Matsumoto asked Nighthawk loudly, saying that this was the most obvious truth, as if Nighthawk should have understood.

Nighthawk shook his head and said in a stiff tone, "I don't want to understand what you, the descendant of the murderer, want to say and do. You draw out the way and see if we Chinese people are a bad breed. This sentence aroused the passion of everyone present, and a heroic and generous feeling arose spontaneously, rushing from the soles of the feet to the brains, and the blood boiled as if it was about to burn through the hot chest.

"You have disappointed me so much, a hero who can repeatedly break my plans and never die in a hundred battles is such a fool, it really disappoints me." Matsumoto shook his head in pity, muttering words that made Nighthawk even angrier.

"Do you want to talk nonsense until dawn, if you want to delay time, then you don't have to, even if we die with you, we won't let your plot succeed again today." Nighthawk's words were categorical, there was no room for turn, and without looking at the comrades behind him, Nighthawk could clearly feel the beating pulse.

After listening to Matsumoto's inhuman narrative just now, I rekindled everyone's thoughts about the catastrophe that almost wiped out the Chinese civilization half a century ago. How many predecessors died generously in order to resist the invasion of foreign enemies, and how many compatriots died tragically in the devil's butcher's knife without preparation.

These people are all beasts, and the one in front of them is the offspring of beasts. Such a person can't stay, and everyone is determined to die at the moment, staring at Matsumoto viciously.

At this moment of extreme danger and death on the line, Matsumoto didn't even blink his eyes, and looked at the angry gaze cast by everyone with contempt. He said indifferently: "Today, in fact, we are faced with the same choice as my father at the beginning, either sit back and watch as all those people are slaughtered, or raise their knives, and have a chance to fight for their lives.

You can kill me now, and then stride out of here with your friend's corpse, or stand fair with me, and still have a glimmer of hope for life.

In the same way, I am either a gang of police or secret service troops, and now I will strangle you all here, and then live in the eyes of others in agony, and finally die in silence like my father.

Or pick up the knife, fight to the death with you, cut off your heads, wash away my shame for so long with your blood, and regain the dignity that rightfully belongs to me.

Although I don't have the peerless genius of my father, I choose the latter. I don't know if you, the people of China, have the guts? Matsumoto looked at Nighthawk defiantly, waiting for his reply.

Nighthawk was stunned for a moment, he didn't expect Matsumoto's request to be like this.

Before coming, he thought about all kinds of scenarios with Matsumoto, but without exception, in the end, he shot Matsumoto to death, took the trapped Monroe himself, and ended this difficult trip to Fuso.

But Matsumoto's request was so shocking that he blatantly took a knife and challenged them without shame, whether he was a madman or someone who was so strong in his heart that he couldn't be more powerful.

Nighthawk looked at Matsumoto's look of contempt, thinking about the words he had been saying to them for being inferior. Nighthawk's arrogance was instantly ignited. A pair of eyes are shining, like ten thousand sharp arrows, ready to pass Matsumoto through his chest at any time.

Without hesitation, Nighthawk threw down the gun in his hand and slowly pulled out the saber at his waist. The cold light was dazzling, and half of the figure was illuminated by the shaking. Absolute murderous aura surged out, rolling towards Matsumoto with a powerful anger.

Matsumoto smiled easily, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly: "Okay, I really didn't misunderstand you, you are a real hero, don't blame me for so many heroic subordinates who died in you." Even if I die at your hands, I, Ichiro Matsumoto, will not be a dignified samurai of the Great Fuso in vain, so let's see the real sword. ”

With a bang, everyone felt as if there was a flash of water flowing in front of them. With a violent gust of wind, the blowing skin was painful.

The rolling murderous aura from the water light made people shudder even more, and the 380 million cells in the body all shrank tightly at the same time, ready to meet the sudden danger at any time.

Nighthawk's eyes briefly lost light from the water, and he rubbed his eyes in horror as he looked at Matsumoto, who had already drawn his sword in front of him, his hands holding the handle, and his face sinking like water. I couldn't help but slap out in my heart: "What a domineering sword spirit, such a fierce knife body." ”

Matsumoto gently pressed the knife in front of him, and slowly opened his mouth and said: "This style, the desperate move of the shadow stream, the shadow flow wave, be careful." The corners of his mouth smiled, and his arms had slowly launched their strength, and the murderous aura rolled towards the nighthawk like a raging river.