The damage inflicted by the silver nitrate bullet to the Bloodline was fatal, and the wound on the councilor's shoulder continued to gush with foul-smelling blood, and the amount of bleeding increased as the body expanded.

After a few breaths, puddles of blood had accumulated under his feet, and the slightly corrosive, turbid blood had dissolved the handmade carpet and even continued to sink into the marble floor, stirring up a dense mass of bubbles.

The pain was so intense that the half-human, half-bat Bloodclan lost his mind, and he howled in the sky, his red eyes full of brutality.

The batalike stared at Deadpool in the narrow aisle, its grayish-brown flapping wings and the wind causing everyone around them to bend down and stabilize their bodies.

Screams rang out one after another, and some members of the House of Commons knew about the existence of the Bloodline, but there were some backbenchers who were too low and not of enough rank to be informed—they were in the same uncontrollable panic as the viewers in front of the television.

The bat monster's body was filled with a thick blood mist, and the surging blood energy flowed and jumped around him like thunder and lightning, and suddenly, he disappeared.

When he opened his eyes again, the batabulk had already rushed in front of Deadpool, the sharp claws on the tips of his fleshy wings slashing down.

Deadpool whistled lightly, tiptoed, and rose from the ground, narrowly avoiding the attack.

"Actually, I'd rather call myself a Blade Warrior than a V-Letter."

Deadpool grumbled lazily as his figure arced through mid-air over the top of the bat-monster's head.

He stretched out his palms and slapped them on the batmonster's shoulders, pulling them up a little higher with the help of the reaction force, and at the same time pulled out two katana swords from under his cloak and held them lightly against the batman's neck.

Scold!

The gravitational acceleration brought by the fall caused the two katanas to dig deep into the bat monster's neck, flashing blades with cold light

Blocked by the batbolt's hard bones, it's hard to get in.

"Cut."

Deadpool snorted in dissatisfaction, dropped his blades, and swerved, wrapping his hands around the bat-monster's half-sliced neck and twisting it hard.

Like a twisted flower, the flesh and bones at the bat monster's neck were twisted into a strand by brute force, leaving only a shallow layer of flesh and blood nerves connected to the head and body.

The clicking sound caused by the bones crushing against each other is tooth-aching, and what is even more terrifying is that the batmonster is still not dead, still using its claws and blood energy to try to cause damage to Deadpool.

"The vitality is so strong?"

Deadpool's eyes widened as he writhed as he held the bat monster's head and writhed as he dragged the other man down the hall's aisle, leaving a trail of intermittent blood.

Finally, the bat monster's head was removed, and its massive body, which was nearly three meters long, stopped its useless struggle and blocked the aisle like a scrapped car.

Deadpool gasped and threw the massive head he was holding into the air and landed on Prime Minister Rachel Ross's table.

The sturdy female prime minister remained calm, staring at the V-shaped vendetta with a cold gaze despite her legs and heartbeat, leaving the last shred of decency for the British Empire.

And Konstantin, facing the camera, said in a deep voice: "You see, this country has been invaded and corrupted by the blood clan, they not only walk in the mortal world, but also stand high above the temple,

They wield the authority of the state, control the mouthpiece of the media, inhibit the opening of people's intelligence, and even lead the beasts to eat people, committing all kinds of horrific crimes.

The non-profit non-governmental organizations active around the world are the domestic dogs raised by the blood clan, responsible for creating excuses for the blood clan lord to intervene in the situation in the Middle East;

The International Human Trafficking Organization is a domestic animal raised by the Blood Clan, responsible for providing private slaves for the Blood Lords to satisfy their darkest and dirtiest fantasies;

Even the bureaucracy of the British Empire itself is a shepherd dog bred by the blood clan, which is responsible for domesticating the people for the blood lord and fooling and fiddling with the ignorant and sad pariahs.

Complex and cumbersome entertainment products are poisons produced by the blood clan, they make us indulge in the pleasures of the virtual world, and anesthetize the stimulation brought by cultural products;

The lackluster electoral system is a psychedelic drug created by the Bloods, who have us indulging in the illusion of democratic elections and fantasizing about the next successor to the British Empire – and yet this is all shit! The slogans promised by politicians in the Western world at the beginning of their coming to power have always been lies! They are just drawing one blueprint after another, let us continue to keep to ourselves, and honestly continue to be ignorant lambs!

Feminism! Same-sexualism! Animal protectionism! Environmentalism! Religious equality! Human rights are equal!

The white left ideology, which includes all of the above elements, is nothing more than a sleeping agent used by the blood clan to poison our spirits!

They have raised us to be loving and merciful Marys, to self-loathing, self-mutilation, to abolish the death penalty, to tolerate those who commit suicide and to the screams of the victims! ”

Konstantin roared angrily: "In the hands of the blood clan, the white left thought is a blunt knife that cuts flesh, it deprives us of the blood of the Anglo-Saxons, deprives us of the wildness in our hearts, keeps us docile, keeps us ignorant, keeps us humble and lowly!"

I was fed up with the lies, and I decided to rebel. ”

At the same time, several helicopters hovered over the edge of the Houses of Parliament, and the rapidly spinning propeller blades made waves over the River Thames.

The light of the searchlight was like a sharp sword tearing through the long night, and the area around the Parliament building was blocked by British police and military vehicles that rushed to hear the news.

The residents of London, who had been loitering around, gradually moved closer, peering through the outermost edge of the army blockade, holding up their mobile phones to keep shooting, the flash as bright as day, and the sound of the shutter one after another.

The uniformed officers shouted at the crowd and scattered the crowd, and there was no doubt that these officers at the critical point of tension would use rubber batons to describe what it means to "boil your own oil".

And in the cabins of those helicopters, snipers wearing windproof goggles supported their arms with slings and aimed their cold guns at the House of Commons chamber on the second floor of the Houses of Parliament, infrared night vision devices clearly showing the location of everyone in the room.

Wind direction, wind speed, relative distance, helicopter turbulence, refraction angle of glass.... All the data is arranged and combined in the mind, and the complex equations are established.

. S's elite soldier stopped chewing gum, his tongue was tingling, and he whispered into the headset, "Ask to shoot." ”

The command of the operation gave the order: "Approve the shooting." ”

So, the trigger was pulled, and the bullet rubbed in the rifling, and with the fire gushing from the muzzle, it rushed towards the Chamber of Commons.

The long, narrow bullet carved out its trajectory through the humid air above the Thames, through the stained glass, and unabated towards Konstantin, who held the speaker of the House of Commons hostage.

"Even if I am dead and nailed to the coffin, I will be in the grave, crying out with this rotten vocal cord..."

Bang!

A high-powered sniper bullet slammed into Konstantin's chest, interrupting him and causing him to fall backwards.

At the same time, the door to the Chamber of Commons was forced open by a battering ram, and heavily armed soldiers with guns poured fire on Deadpool in the aisle.

Deadpool just took a deep look at them, rolled up his cloak, blocked the bullet stream with a thin fabric, and stepped back.

He picked up the unknown Constantine, pressed the watch button, and a complicated magic array rose from under his feet, and the two disappeared, leaving only a messy conference hall.

There are two weeks left until November 5th.