Knell used to be a mercenary.

At that time he was still called Slade Joseph Wilson.

The fledgling Slade takes on a mission - to kill a drug lord in a certain Golden Triangle.

The target has been hiding in a village deep in the mountains, and in order to complete the mission, Slade chooses to sneak over the mountainside on a gloomy evening.

However, on the way down he met a cowherd boy, about seven or eight years old, skinny and skinny—the same old cow he had herded.

Slade hesitated for a moment, then turned sideways and let him walk by.

The cowherd ran past Slade in fear, and as he was leaving, he pulled out a small pistol from under his ragged clothes, turned and pulled the trigger behind his back.

Gunshots rang out, and by the time Slade came to his senses, he had been captured by the drug lords.

"Who hired you?" The drug lord asked.

Slade could see that the drug lord didn't care about the answer to the question, he just enjoyed the torturous pleasure.

So, Slade looked at the hastily bandaged wound and chose to remain silent.

The enraged warlord had Slade tie his hands and feet with hemp rope, bring a large spherical bamboo cage, bring large stones, and put him in the bamboo cage with Slade.

"You'll tell." The warlord said to Slade, shoving a slender reed into Slade's mouth.

The warlord's men carried the bamboo cage and submerged it in a turquoise pool.

It was a green, foul-smelling stagnant water, the breeze could not ripple the slightest ripple, and the pond was surrounded by pearl-like white foam.

There was a layer of greasy weaving Luo Qi floating on the surface of the water, and occasionally there were clouds of mold steaming, and there were tiny transparent insects floating in the water, whether they floated in front of Slade's eyes.

He just soaked in the stagnant water, leaning on the hollow reed to peek out of the water, breathing in the extravagant air.

Twenty-four hours later, the warlord had the bamboo cage salvaged and asked the question, "Who hired you?" ”

Slade remained silent, so the warlord shortened the reed with scissors and threw him back into the water.

The cut of the reed forced Slade to cling to the top of the cage and clasping the strip with his fingers so that he could breathe air.

Twenty-four hours later, he was brought up again, the same question, and Slade was silent.

So this time, the warlord took the reeds.

Underwater, the sound of a heartbeat was clearly audible, and Slade had nothing else to do other than calculate time from his heartbeat.

One minute, two minutes, when the heart was beating a hundred and sixty times, the guns exchanged fire.

The scuffle between the two warlords saved Slade from his life, and since then, he has developed a habit of counting his heartbeat.

Now, for example, in the middle of this forest and snowfield, he is struggling to resist the butcher's butcher's butcher's knife, counting time by the sound of his heartbeat as he did decades ago.

Two minutes, these short one hundred and twenty seconds, every second seems to be stretched extremely long.

The butcher, who claims to be 30 percent of his strength, can cut off a tree that is the thickness of three or four people with just a wave of his hand.

And its butcher's knife and meat hook are even more sharp, and Knell does his best, but all he can do is slightly deflect the opponent's offensive.

The tiger's mouth burst open, the gap between his thumb and forefinger was completely stained with scarlet, and Knell didn't even care that his trademark black and yellow mask was broken, still resisting it like a mayfly shaking a tree.

The man who fought alongside him was Lars Gul Eyre, the leader of the Assassins who had severed his lower leg, but there was not much blood left on the cross-section of the wound, and in a few breaths, new flesh sprouts had already emerged, barely making out the shape of the "soles of the feet".

The leader of the Assassins was not satisfied with the pretentious calmness and grace of the past, and walked around the butcher with a broken sword, although he limped, but every time he struck, he could pierce the cracks in the butcher's armor and rip out a large piece of flesh.

"Hmph, don't be an An'an livestock, follow the example of a praying mantis!"

The butcher seemed to be annoyed by these two noisy little insects, and roared, "The boundary is lifted, sixty percent!" ”

Knell's heart shook and he was about to retreat, but he saw sticky pink minced meat splattering from the gap in the butcher's shoulder armor, and in an instant, the minced meat was assembled into nerves, bones, tendons, and tendons, and two huge arms grew from the shoulder blades.

"What the hell is this---what kind of monster?!"

Death Knell couldn't help but burst into a foul language, which country or region has he never been to in his life? What enemy hasn't you faced? I've seen a lot, and I've been through a lot of battles.

But even he had never seen such a "creature" like a devil in hell.

The price offered by the Owl Court was clearly not enough to pay for the situation in front of him, and Deathstroke glanced at Lars Gul Eyre, ready to leave the battlefield.

Before he could make a move, the butcher who was standing there moved his four arms slightly, grinned, and rushed to Deathstroke at a speed completely inconsistent with his massive size, and grabbed him with all four palms.

"Fresh flesh..."

The butcher's red eyes were full of longing, and he opened his bloody jaws and lifted the death knell upside down into the air with the intention of swallowing it.

Lars Gul El slipped away before the butcher could grasp the death knell, and his body retreated, fleeing all the way from the Rabbit to the Falcon, knowing that he was hiding in a tree in the distance, before staring at the center of the battlefield with a cold and terrifying look.

Deathstroke smiled, his mask mottled and fragmented, revealing the face of a middle-aged man with a slight vicissitudes of life.

"What are you laughing at?" The butcher asked.

"Time," Deathstroke touched his heart and closed his eyes, "it's time, big fool." ”

As if in response to the call of the death knell, a point of light lit up in the far reaches of the mountain pass.

AGM-114D，

This line of alphanumeric is not some mysterious code, but a heavy long-range anti-tank missile called the Longbow Helfa.

The millimeter-wave seeker of the warhead, which was launched by the AH-64D Longbow Apache helicopter gunship, searched for and locked onto the target from a distance of 1,000 meters, crossed the barrier interference of wind and snow, and arrived at the Linhai Snow Field in the blink of an eye.

The flight speed of 390 m/s has exceeded the speed of sound, and the butcher has less than three seconds to respond before the missile arrives.

It cannot escape, the laser semi-active guidance method can track all the way, and the millimeter-wave seeker can also be used as a proximity fuse, even if it is separated by a distance, it can detonate the warhead and destroy the target.

The butcher took a deep breath, threw the death knell out, and tumbled into the snow.

Scarlet eyes looked at the missiles that had broken through the sound barrier, and the bone-chopping steel knife with chains was thrown decisively.

The bipolar tandem shaped armor-piercing projectile installed in the missile warhead collided with a simple blade in mid-air.