At the moment when Zhihai suffered a heavy blow and fell back into the sea, the vision of the eight confessions stayed at the scene when the sword plague turned into a long knife, turned around and faced the sword with the helpless sword, and couldn't help but feel a little ironic in his heart.

Poof.

Less than half an hour after he landed on the island of the Dead, he fell back into the icy waters. He struggled to emerge from the foaming water, and dragged his increasingly thin and frail body all the way to the beach.

As soon as you look up, what about people?

Du Fanglin is gone.

There is no second figure on the entire beach, and it is a vast expanse that can be seen at a glance.

Eight confessed to his knees, and then slowly stood up. He looked around, put his hand on his forehead and laughed lowly, the laughter growing louder and louder in his throat: freedom, this uncontrolled freedom has finally arrived—

Du Fanglin fell into the killing machine.

When he arrived at the Yin and Yang Sea, he had already sensed the faint hostility in the sea breeze, and the qi was well retracted, at least the former killer Tianya Guzi of his companion was unaware.

Therefore, in the killer world, there are also high and low levels...... Eight confessions, you can't do it...... Du Fanglin grabbed the eight confessions and threw them vigorously across the sea with a sack-throwing posture, and at the same time, he twisted his fingers in his sleeve and silently arranged the illusion of protection around him.

As for the Absolute Death Island, whether the sword plague can be moved, he is not worried at all. In order to effectively deal with the nest, he had planted a seed when he first came into contact with the Knife Plague very early.

At this time, detonating the seeds, and then implanting a memory that does not distinguish between truth and falsehood when the sword plague is in a state of mental frenzy, can allow the mother who protects her son to directly target the imaginary enemy in her heart for the sake of her son: the nest.

This is the quickest, easiest way to continue planning without leaving any trouble. After all, even if Wu Mourning recognizes the identity of the lonely son of Tianya, he can't understand what happened to the sword plague, and the life and death of hatred is really a practice, and it has nothing to do with the overall situation.

Du Fanglin's sleeves hung down. The sea water flooded the beach, silently dividing into several trickles into the sand and gravel, like a large net, spreading in all directions around the place where the person in control stood.

There is no wind at this time.

The flow of water, which contains the will of the sorcerer, is like an ubiquitous "eye", waiting to catch that wisp of qi, spilling out from the cracks, and the mist rising from the beach intensifies into a shining blade, sweeping across the rocks three feet away.

Behind the rocks, an open crimson paper umbrella sits on the ground, casting a shadow that covers the white porcelain bottle on the lacquered plate, along with half a glass of sake.

The water blade missed, turned into seawater, and splashed on the oil-paper umbrella.

The sand left half of the wet marks, just like the raft left next to the lacquer plate that was also wet with water, and the two lines of handwriting that were not long written were then fainted by the water:

The wind hits the plantain and the rain hits the pot, and the dream is hard to find.

At this moment, the murderous aura turned intense, and the wind surged silently, and the position was the opposite of the rock, closer to the sea!

When exactly did it come to the back? Just like the silent surging wind when the water atomizes the sword, a kimono with a black background but bright flowers appears in the wind, and the slender five fingers that should have held the red paper umbrella silently chose the black rope-wrapped sword in the double knife at the waist, and slowly pulled it out at this moment-

The clogs left clear tooth marks on the sand that had just receded, but the steps forward were silent.

At the moment when the murderous aura suddenly intensified, the clogs had already stepped on the sand and soil at an extremely fast speed, fueling the speed of the slash.

Du Fanglin suddenly realized that out of the corner of his eye, he had seen a glimmer of knife that was so fast that it almost melted into the sun.

The knife is like a line, with only one hand out of the sheath, carrying the cold mist in the wind, silently slashing the neck from behind, carrying a poignant and fierce intention of killing!

The footsteps are silent, the waves are silent, the heaven and the earth are silent, and at a moment there is only a line of silent electric knives, no heart, only a thought to kill ruthlessly.

Therefore, the speed of the knife can reach the extreme, so fast that there is only a wisp of shadow left, and when the shadow touches the neck of a person, it is like a poignant song on a raft, and there are only a few bout of blood left between heaven and earth......

That's how it should be.

The sound of the blade shattering the illusion only came to Du Fanglin's ears after everything had stopped, stopping at the soft and invisible mist of water. The trickle drawn from the sea, the other part began to turn into mist and meander from under Du Fanglin's feet, swirling an inch away to form a defense, but it was replaced by an invisible illusion, and the person who drew the knife misjudged the situation.

In a moment of confrontation, Du Fanglin at this time is no longer a shadow that seems to be unreal in the past. He who really stepped on the earth can no longer change his mind in the void and reality as he did in the past, and avoid disaster...... At the time, he jokingly called this ability the transfer of the spirit child.

It doesn't have to be that way.

The benefits of returning to his true body are obvious, his skill body no longer has any defects, and he is more free to do what he wants, using his own attainments to perform spells, without the help of external forces, and becoming more and more obscure.

A knife is blocked, and the blade is imprinted with water, but the power of softness is insufficient, and the momentum of overcoming is not long.

The blade flipped suddenly, and then applied more force, shattering the water! At close range, it is very dangerous to touch a killer who is good at killing, and once the defenses are broken, the knife can directly stain the blood spurting from the neck of the target.

Du Fanglin knows this.

But he only needed to defend against the first blow, the blow that made him the most defenseless. Next, when the soft water is broken, the water sharpens into ice, and the ice spreads along the blade, which not only dulls the knife, but also changes the weight of gold and iron, further affecting the speed of the knife.

"Hmm......" After all, there was a slight suspicion.

The figures suddenly staggered, one black and one white, and the blade almost clinged to the skin, narrowly grazing Du Fanglin's neck.

From the outside, it was still just a short moment of swinging a knife. When Du Fanglin turned around, he staggered the black kimono with a hint of fragrance at a distance of his shoulder, and at the same time, the cuffs were raised, and there was already a black strand of black hair between the two fingers of his left hand.

At this time, Fang Zhen is a magician, manipulating the life and death of the other party in a single thought.

The knife failed, and the killer continued to attack until a few steps forward, and the front teeth of the clogs suddenly sank into the sand.

This is a woman dressed in a black flowered kimono, wearing heavy makeup, clanging hairpin rings on her sideburns, holding a long knife diagonally against the tip of the knife, and the fragrance of the wind left by the kimono sleeves has not dissipated...... But her expression was condensed, condensed and killed, just like the knife that almost cut her throat. If it weren't for the sorcerer's deceit, there would be few defenses in the world.

This is the fourth member of the blood list of the Tobu Lin Killer Organization.

It is also what Du Fanglin knows in his mind, and he is afraid that he is a murderer who has been secretly stolen from power and invisibly manipulated by conditions and transactions.

Life is like sending a love letter.

It was Lin Que who borrowed the hand of the orchestra, and it was one of the members of the list that was planned to visit one by one, and it was also the combat power of the opponent's camp that had to be cut. After all, the blood list will always fall into the hands of the master of Taixue, or it is already in the hands of the other party.

Du Fanglin has not yet decided what to do.

There was a tiny strand of hair between his fingers, invisibly implicating the other's spiritual sense. Is this a springboard to manipulate the soul like dealing with hatred? However, as far as he knows, the extreme emotions in the heart of the woman in front of her before her obsession is gone, it is very easy to make this operation fruitless, and it is easy to encounter the backlash of the seven emotions. If he kills the soul, there are always some pitiful and pathetic stories in the blood list, and the desperate love letter is stepping on the edge of his consistent bottom line, which belongs to the category of his pitiful feelings.

If you were a different person, it wouldn't have turned out like this......

And why provoked the blood list killer to come here to target himself, Du Fanglin already understood in his heart. I am afraid that the task entrusted to the orchestra by Lin Que has been effective, and the grass is scareless. After all, before he really provoked the other party's reaction, he couldn't be sure if there was already someone secretly monitoring behind the blood list.

……

Thousands of miles away.

The orchestra gathered together for another unique folk music concert. The participants, there are pipa, erhu, qin and drum, the location is on Langmei Mountain, among which the pipa and drum bearer have many sword wounds on their bodies, all of which are guarded by the most profound Qin Lang clan nameless with strings.

At this time, the white-clothed Qinlang, whose name was nameless, had already twisted the strings and stopped moving.

Among the three tones, only the song does not stop, harmonizing with nature, weaving sweet dreams in the consciousness of those trapped in the grand event of music.

It was a handsome swordsman kneeling on the ground, holding the ground with a sword, with slightly lowered eyebrows, dressed in clean white clothes and still spotless after repeated fierce battles, black hair scattered and messy draped over his shoulders, it was the third on the blood list, and he was judged by the orchestra to be the first person to do it.

In Lin Que's records, although this flawless son never concealed his identity as a killer, he only killed those who should be killed in his judgment...... It sounds like some Confucian people, and it is very suitable for joining Linque after brainwashing, after all, there is little sense of disobedience, and it is not easy to cause backlash and loss due to memory and cognitive conflicts.

People who have always liked elegant things are indeed extremely easy to resonate with music.

The music of Se Tianle has come to an end, and a cold flute sound has been added from nowhere, which has more and more urged the effect of this song.

The drummer stopped and looked at Mr. Pipa.

"Xiao Jun got out, and another battle is over." Another battlefield, ten miles away, is intercepted by Zhugu, who is good at using poison, Zhong Shangshu, who is good at military formations, and Xun, who is good at assassination, and everyone who may receive news and come to Langmei Mountain to interfere.

In another place, the wind was ethereal, and in the middle was the deep voice of the Xun: "There is a person, who is a friend of the target in the record, the sword is nameless, and he was taken away by Zhugu because of poisoning." ”

"No one else? For example, the blood list ......" Mr. Erhu's eyes flashed and he questioned.

"The rest of the people have some movement, but they have never come to Langmei Mountain, question!"

After the Xun man finished speaking, he was silent.

There was a bleak sound of flutes joining, and Mingzhu, who was troubled by Sequ, held the sword more and more forcefully, as if it had been knocked on the door of his heart.

The voices were silent.

At this time, a Qingwan figure holding a plain white oil paper umbrella appeared behind the orchestra, slowly walking up Langmei Mountain, until it crossed the crowd, stood in the middle, and faced the pearl who was still stuck in the aftermath and closed his eyes to seek flaws.

She looks young, but her bearing is calm, and she is dressed in a pink and white dress, just like the clouds outside the sky...... It is the young master Jun Mansui who has not been out of the forest for a long time.