Uninspired, completely short-circuited. Write a chapter.

My name is Ran Xuan, I don't know how long I've lived, anyway, it should be a few decades. For my name, I acquired it myself. We used to be a family, and it was a disaster.

On a sunny day, for some reason, the sky would suddenly be covered with dark clouds, and this was just the beginning of a nightmare. The man came up from the side of the cliff, his hands and feet were so agile, I don't know why he could climb up the cliff dozens of feet high with his hands and feet. He just carried a knife, and that knife was beautiful. It is similar to the iron knife of the Southern Song Dynasty, but it is longer, and the scabbard is very beautiful and has a golden pattern. Gold and black mix to create a sense of mystery.

It's the knife and the man, we don't even see his movements. He'd already killed two people, and they were two guards. Our family's mansion was built in a hole in the cliff, and it was very spacious, with a secret passage leading to it. Because of the location, almost no one came to us, so the doormen were dispensable, and they let their guard down day by day. So when the head is cut off, there is only doubt in the eyes. They don't even know what's going on.

His knife was unsheathed, and the strength of this man was terrifying. He wears a mask, which is a ghost mask and is called "魃". If he just used that knife to kill someone, the two guards would definitely be able to react, after all, they were about 5 meters apart. But his scabbard was just as deadly as a weapon, and his scabbard slid a bloody light when it was just a gentle touch of the neck. He didn't say anything, maybe he didn't need to speak at all.

His mask looked particularly hideous against the backdrop of blood, as if a real evil ghost had descended into the world. In our eyes, he is a demon from hell. Our family has always had no quarrel with the world, otherwise we would not have stayed in such a remote place. We just fight sometimes, and we use fake identities to mix in those inverted teams. No one ever doubted our identity, and our fighting skills were also very good, and the captains of those teams held us well.

How could we have thought that someone would come and assassinate us? We came back from our momentary shock and had already picked up our knives, and of course, only a few of us would pick up weapons that were outdated. We have also adapted to the gun and have practiced our marksmanship very well. I picked up a gun, and I don't know who took my original gun. I always used the same gun when I practiced shooting, but when I went to get it, I found that I couldn't find it, so I had to take one casually, and I held it in my hand, and I didn't feel it at all. But at this time, it is a critical juncture, and there is nothing that feels bad. I had no choice but to bite the bullet.

I tried to aim at him, but I found that I couldn't aim at all, he was too fast. I couldn't put the scope on him at all. I could only shoot indiscriminately, not knowing if I had shot him or not. His hands were constantly making death, and every time he swung his knife and scabbard, two people were bound to fall. If it is touched by a scabbard, it is fine, that is, it is just an extra scar on the neck, but if it is touched by a knife, the whole body will say goodbye to the head. The head will fly straight into the sky.

Some people tried to fight him with knives, but when they came to within a foot of him, they couldn't see him swinging their knives at all, only an afterimage. Then the head hit the ground. Even the body couldn't react, and it was still like the knife was about to be slashed down above the head, but there was no head, and the neck was still bleeding. I have never seen such a bloody scene, as I said before, our family has no quarrel with the world, I have never been in a fight, I have never seen such a bloody scene. But my mental endurance is still relatively first-class, and I just try to hold back and not let myself vomit, but my face is still pale.

I don't want to say shoot, I can't even stand. But I'm afraid doesn't mean everyone is afraid, many of us here have seen the world, and they are shooting at that person. Finally, the man showed a flaw, and his right hand, the one holding the knife, was shot. Someone rushed up and cut off his right hand in a desperate way. The man looked at the severed right hand, and then at the knife that had fallen from the ground.

He was in front of so many people, bent down, and he picked up his knife. Our bullets have already hit him with more than ten. But he didn't react at all, he tried to pick up his knife, but the sharp-eyed man shot directly at his knife. The knife fell to the ground. And so on several times in a row. He finally didn't pick up his knife again.

He silently looked at the knife that had fallen to the ground, one hand was gone, and the other was holding the scabbard. The mask seemed so weird that he seemed to already know that the knife couldn't be picked up. So he didn't pick it up again.

He moved, so fast. His actions let us know that he didn't give his all at all, and even just played just now. And when he broke his hand, he was naturally unhappy. We couldn't even see him clearly, only a shadow scurrying around. Wherever the shadow passed, those people's expressions would become dull, and their eyes would dim in an instant. If you look closely, you will see that there is an extra blood mark on their neck, and this blood mark that made them die does not even have blood coming out. It's because the speed of death is so fast that the blood can't flow out at all.

The little flame of hope that had just ignited in my heart, I thought that this little spark would burn the prairie fire, but it turned out to be a basin of water coming down directly. Poured me thoroughly, woke me up. I know that this man's strength is simply not something we can contend with. I was in despair.

The man came to me, he didn't look at me, the knife smeared my neck. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I found that everyone around me had fallen and I didn't know why I wasn't dead. The man was gone, his knife still on the ground. I don't know why he didn't take it back, maybe he felt it was a shame.

Originally, my name was Ran Moyun, and later, when I picked up the knife. I changed my name, I am Ran Xuan now, and there will be no Ran Moyun in the future. That man will be my mortal enemy, and I will kill him one day. I'll let him die under his own knife. I found that my body was no longer afraid of any bullets, and the knife was kept behind my back. If it weren't for him, I would have used the scabbard, and when I met him, the blade of death would be unsheathed and slew him!

So, with the hope of the whole clan, I embarked on a journey.

Well, that's it for today's Ran Xuan's storytelling. Bye!