Dressed in a coat, Bourkeso walked slowly through the city at night, and the situation in the city surprised him a little.

Although he had been here for two or three days, he was still surprised by the city's bustling day and chaotic at night.

Humanity has always been so complicated when it has not experienced the crisis of a critical world.

As long as there is leisure time for them to think, then humanity will definitely not settle down.

"I think it seems to be a barbershop over there?"

Bourkeso looked at the shops across the street and said hesitantly.

As we all know, Nephilim never memorizes paths, and they don't need to remember how they got here when they can use the "return" magic.

After all, in a world full of demons, they just need to remember where they haven't been, because that means they can continue to kill the demons that annoy them.

"Hey, Luke heard you've been doing well lately!"

Under Bourkeso's gaze, a flirtatious voice came from the dark corner where the street lamp could not shine.

If these guys stay in a dark place, I'm afraid that even the demons will be difficult to find for a while.

Bourkeso looked at the guy who was talking and couldn't help but think.

The premise is that he closes his eyes and mouth.

"Hit, you guy, I said I'd break your leg if you showed up in Daddy's barbershop again!"

A tall guy raised his fist and shouted disappredly at the guy who spoke at the beginning.

The man named Luke was tall and strong, and he looked only half a head shorter than Bourkeso, and his body was only a little smaller.

He's already a strong enough guy for a human.

"Nice warrior, basically the same as a young barbarian who has just stepped onto the battlefield."

Bourkeso thought as he looked at the big black man.

"Those weak mages might be beaten out of when they meet him?"

Whether the warrior is strong or not, there is nothing to hide in front of Bourkeso.

He had seen too many powerful warriors in his life, and his talent was no secret to him.

"I don't know if he can get the approval of his ancestors, he looks like he is really a good seedling to be a barbarian."

Bourkeso stroked the bushy beards on his chin, feeling the comfortable feel of them as they bent in front of the fire.

"Hi Hi! Luke! I know you're pretty good at fighting, but how long can you help that old guy? You have to know who has the final say on this street! ”

The guy who was threatened by the big guy didn't have any fear at all, because this guy was a member of the local gang.

"I know that the old guy is very prestigious, and usually no one will come to him for trouble, but once someone wants to trouble him, it means that this matter is not a small matter."

The gesture of the little man became more and more ridiculous, and his hands were waving wildly in front of him, as if he were practicing some rare dance.

Or does this guy think doing so will increase his deterrent?

It's like when a cat is in danger, it swells its fur to make its body look bigger?

"But you can't get past me!"

"Come on, Luke! You're just a cleaner in a barbershop, and my boss said I'll give you a thousand dollars if you're willing to close your eyes and go back to sleep! ”

"You have to think clearly, as long as you obediently go back to sleep, then you can get this thousand yuan!"

The little man said in an even more exaggerated tone.

Bourkeso was interested, not for the thousand dollars that the little man had said, but for the fighting intent shown by the big black man.

The waving fist has no discipline in the slightest, and it can't play a role in gathering strength, just like a veteran who bullies Xinding with great strength.

This kind of scene Bourkeso has seen in the fortress of Seschellon I don't know how many times.

But from the big man's eyes, Bourkeso could tell that his purpose was not simply to teach the clown a lesson.

It's the same as he said, it's a look that is determined to break someone's legs.

A natural warrior who doesn't know how to fight?

It doesn't get much more interesting than that for Bourkeso.

"Young man, you should kick the ground hard, then twist your waist and shake your shoulders, and finally punch out."

Bourkeso's voice sounded like thunder in the streets.

"No matter how bad it is, you should shake your shoulders first and then punch, you can play with enough strength like this."

As Bourkeso spoke, the lights on the residential buildings on both sides of the street were half extinguished in an instant.

Bourkeso could still hear the crashes and muffled grunts of the panicked action in those rooms, presumably someone crashing into a table or chair or something in the pitch darkness.

"I know, but I just want to break his leg, not his life."

The big black man lowered his fist angrily and said to Bourkeso.

"Old man, now you should be worried about your safety, not how I punch."

Bourkeso was a little surprised to hear Luke's voice.

Not the part about safety, but the term "old man".

Bourkeso, who had no idea about lifespan, never imagined that he would be called an "old man".

He saw the silver-white hair falling in front of him with the wind, and suddenly realized.

It turned out that the effect of death on him had not been removed, which reminded him of Masayir's abomination.

An indescribable feeling enveloped the not-so-narrow street.

"Old guy over there, you're not the old guy who runs a barbershop, and no one will fight us for you!"

The thug who had almost broken his leg by Luke shouted at Bourkeso, as if only a louder voice than Bourkeso could give him some confidence.

Bourkeso could see at a glance that he was empty-hearted, and perhaps the so-called "we" was just him.

Luke on the side didn't say a word, and he didn't mean to stop the little man.

Little Hitt is right, no one in this city called Hell's Kitchen is going to stand out because of a guy they've never met.

No matter how kind that person is, he will not help him.

Because Hell's Kitchen is a place where the demons are fed, and there are no good people here!

The thug looked at Bourkeso without saying a word, and almost forgot the thunderous sound from before.

"Old fellow! It's Hell's Kitchen! It's a source of food for the demons! You dare to speak loudly in this place, you must be ready to be served to the devil's table! ”

The little man continued his arrogant provocation, and in the darkness he did not see the murderous eyes of Bourkeso when he heard the words "serve the devil's table".

"You mean, I'm going to be served to the devil's table? So I ask you, which demon wants to dine? ”

The thunderous sound sounded again, and this time the lights that weren't turned off were extinguished.

People who live in Hell's Kitchen, even an old lady with glasses knitting a sweater at home, can pull out a double-barreled shotgun and blow someone's head in the next moment.

The word "demon" is one of the deepest hatreds for Bourkeso!

He did not resent the Masayr who brought him death, nor did he resent the high angels of the High Heavens who did not want to help humanity.

Only the demons are different!

The footprints of demons have spread to every corner of the sacred mountain of Harlogas, and the corpses of countless barbarian warriors have been trampled.

The demon has drunk the angry blood of the barbarians and tasted the flesh and blood of humans.

At this point, the demonic guy is mentioned and threatens Bourkeso with it.

Then this guy is definitely not going to die!

Bourkeso is willing to guarantee with his own beard!