The north wind was bleak and cold, the clouds were gloomy and low, the tide was slowing down and even falling, and the wooden decks of the fishing boats creaked, and even the red-billed gulls were a little restless.

The pace of the storm is nearer.

Wearing flesh-colored latex gloves, Li Ang indifferently threw away the submachine gun, walked back to the beach, bowed down and half-squatted in front of Christina, raised his arms without hesitation, shot the bow left and right in the girl's face, and slapped back and forth a dozen times.

Visible to the naked eye, Christina's cheeks quickly flushed and swollen, and she woke up faintly, and suddenly saw a strange man wearing a dark ghost face and a blood-stained raincoat crouching in front of her, screaming and almost fainting again.

Leon didn't bother to think about it, so he directly choked Christina's throat roughly, lowered his voice, and said in a frosted hoarse voice:

"I say, listen."

The pale paint line pierced the eye sockets of the face looked directly at Christina's facial expression distorted by extreme fear, and slowly spoke: "In the next few minutes, you will move your friends back to the car one by one and drive them to Gotham City Hospital - if they have time, they may be able to rescue them before they have a cerebral hemorrhage." Oh, and by the way, don't forget to use your phone to call the 911 hotline and have those Gotham Police Department slips come over and wash the floor. ”

Knowing this, Christina suddenly noticed that the surrounding lawn was full of stumps and broken arms, those mafia thugs with severed hands, feet, heads and even half of their buttocks hanging on the trees were lying on the ground, and occasionally a few tenacious ones were constantly convulsing and wailing, inexorably moving towards the end of exhaustion and death due to excessive blood loss.

Leon didn't feel the slightest discomfort at this scene, he shook the blood stained on his raincoat, twisted his neck comfortably, and slowly loosened his restraints on Christina.

"Now, you can run for your life."

The girl stumbled and fell to the ground again, trying to stand up.

Leon didn't pay more attention to Christina, he turned and took a deep breath, the salty sea breeze and the sticky blood vapor merging together, scorching the throat like red-hot pig iron freshly extracted from the slag.

There was more important things to do, and Leon casually removed the tie from the corpse of a gangster thug, pulled the car keys out of his trouser pocket, and wiped the blood on the hand axe and armor-piercing knife with a smooth and silky fabric, while calmly climbing up the slope and stepping on the road.

He pressed the electronic button of the car key, and the car beeped twice, and Li Ang pulled the car door with a smile on the corner of his mouth and sat down.

Nearly three minutes had passed since Patrick had fled, and Leon stepped on the gas, without turning on his headlights, and only relied on the faint moonlight to discern his direction.

He rested his arms on the half-open window, the cuffs of his raincoat rattling with the strong wind, and the tall trees on both sides of the road stared silently at the back of his approaching vehicle like sword-wielding guards.

By this time, Patrick had reached his top speed, and he stared nervously at the rearview mirror, trying to catch a glimpse of the light in the smooth mirror.

"It's good, the monster didn't catch up..."

Patrick bit his lip tightly, and his handsome angular face was full of horror.

He had never seen such a "person", not in the Italian mafia, not in the Gotham gangs, not even on the Syrian battlefield to which Blackwater had sent him.

Snatching the lives of others with ease, it was as natural as eating and drinking, and even Patrick could sense the disdain and contempt hidden beneath the strange mask worn by the raincoat maniac.

Human life is no different from a flower or a grass in the eyes of that monster, Patrick knows.

"!" He angrily slapped the steering wheel, opened the window to cool his hot and aching head in the cold night breeze, and spat out an uncontrollable swear word to hide the fact that his heart was beating wildly and almost bursting his chest.

Calm down, calm down, that masked man is just a human, he has no superpowers, he is just a mortal in the flesh, he is afraid of bullets, and he has to avoid the snaring of steel chains.

Patrick let out a heavy breath and forced himself to pick up his phone and call Richard Sapa.

"Mission failed," Patrick could smell the heavy sweat from his armpits, "and everyone was killed except me who escaped." ”

"What? What's going on? Richard, who was waiting for news in the study, slammed up from his mahogany chair and asked in a loud voice.

"A man with a wooden black mask and a raincoat attacked us." Patrick said bitterly, "He's alone, and he doesn't have a helper." ”

"How could it be....." Richard rubbed his aching brows, "Anyway, you should come back first, didn't that person follow you?" ”

"Nope." Patrick looked in the rearview mirror again and said with a lack of breath, "He's probably not some mutant with superpowers, but I'm optimistic that it will take at least thirty well-equipped men and a gunship with a searchlight to deal with him." ”

Richard was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Wait until you park the car on the path outside the manor, and I'll send someone to pick you up." ”

"Okay." Patrick nodded heavily and hung up.

"Because of the impact of the hurricane, the Gotham City Meteorological Bureau issued the highest level of rainstorm warning, the rainfall is expected to reach more than 100 mm within 3 hours, and the rain may last for several hours, the general public please stop the assembly immediately, find a safe high-rise building, the general industry will stop operating, the Gotham City Fire Department will do a good job in the prevention and rescue of flash floods, landslides, mudslides and other disasters."

The female voice on the car radio was still so sweet and crisp, but at this time there was a hint of solemnity and calmness, but Patrick had no intention of listening and turned off the radio rudely.

The headlights cut through the darkness, and as he walked slowly along the winding path, Patrick could already see the lights of the estate of the Italian mafia, the Sappa family, far away.

"Hurry up." He stepped on the accelerator anxiously, and suddenly a strong light fell from the sky over the car, and the sound of a helicopter spinning propeller sounded in the sky, and a dense number of headlights appeared on the road ahead.

Reinforcements arrived.

Patrick finally breathed a sigh of relief, he slowly parked the car on the side of the road, opened the car door tremblingly, and stepped on the fine gravel road with vague steps, and several familiar faces of family members appeared in Patrick's eyes,

"I'm here!"

He stood in front of him in the headlights of the convoy and waved his arms, shouting loudly, the corners of his mouth already raising a smile of joy that he had escaped death.

The muffled sound of rattan tapping the quilt sounded again behind Patrick, who pressed into his bullet-pierced, bloody chest in confusion.