The boss in the suit poured himself another glass of wine, pointed at the swaying Roger and instructed the couch man, "Lift that thing off his face... You, you, you two go down there and have a look! Let a big living man run here...... It's an insult to me!"

Roger was still swaying in front of the door, and the couch man took two steps forward and waited for him to fall down so that he could lift his mask. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

But... This dwarf doesn't seem to have any tendency to fall......

The other two pushed Roger and tried to bypass him and walk out the door.

But how did the couch man feel that he was shaking more happily?

Roger raised his head violently, his left eye was shattered because of the socket, and the eyeball was connected to the optic nerve on his face, and the intact eye glanced at the three people around him: "What? Do you want to see the peerless face under this mask?"

"Ah!!" The three big European men were so frightened that they took a few steps back.

They are not afraid of the dead, but no one is afraid of the dead who can speak!

Roger was amused and laughed, his eyes swaying from side to side on his face as he moved: "Look at your expressions... Oh my God, I'm laughing!"

The left hand plugged back into the eye, and the pickaxe that his right hand had been holding chiseled through the temple of one of the men.

The other two even collapsed to the ground with their feet limp, crawling backwards with their hands and feet.

The couch man still shouted: "There are ghosts, there are ghosts! Don't come!"

Roger took two steps forward, and with a pickaxe, pinned the leg of the short-sleeved man next to the other couch man to the ground.

The short-sleeved man howled in pain: "Don't... Please...... Put ......"

Before he could finish, the boy drew his pickaxe, stabbed it horizontally into his neck, and pulled it outward.

A head with an eye still spinning turned over without support, and blood from the major arteries even splattered onto the desk.

The boss in the suit panicked and tried to open the drawer and take out the pistol inside, but he tried several times to succeed due to fear.

At this time, Roger's pickaxe had already been raised, and it was aimed at the couch man's small brain and nailed it fiercely.

The bullets in the entire magazine were hit by the boss in the suit, but they didn't stop the boy's movements.

The pickaxe slammed into the couch man's head.

"Oh, it's crooked?" Roger let go of the handle of the pickaxe and raised his arm in disbelief to look, his gloved index finger twice snapping through the bullet hole in his arm.

Then put the bullet hole in front of you, and want to look at the other side like a cannon master.

But the speed at which the body healed clearly didn't give him a chance.

Roger snorted indifferently, and didn't leave the suit boss, but stepped forward and stepped on the sofa man who turned over and wanted to run.

Hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the top of the pickaxe that had been nailed to the floor.

"No... No......" Seeing that the blood-stained tip of the pickaxe was under his eyes, the couch man understood Roger's intentions, knelt on his knees and supported the floor with both hands, and raised his head as best he could.

It's a pity that his strength is no match for Roger, the boy didn't press his head too hard, but the tip of the pickaxe was still getting closer inch by inch.

"No... Don't—" The couch man insisted desperately, and even crushed a few teeth in his mouth because he was too hard.

"If you say don't, then don't~" Roger chuckled and sent away his hands that pressed him.

The sofa man was stunned for a moment, then ecstatic, and hurriedly moved his arms to support himself.

But the support that I tried my best just now has made my arms lose any strength, and if I suddenly relax and want to move again, the consequence can only be that my arms are sore......

"holy.shi.t..."The couch man groaned, and his body involuntarily leaned towards the vertical pickaxe.

Roger pointed to the dead couch man and innocently explained to the boss in the suit: "It's all his own fault, it has nothing to do with me...... I've let go. ”

The muscles on the boss's face were trembling, and there were no bullets in the pistol, while the other gun was dropped behind Roger by the couch man.

Grabbed the half-full bottle on the desk and held it across his chest, and the wine spilled all over him because it didn't have a lid.

"Are you sure you're going to use that against me?" Roger teasingly looked at the boss in the suit who was completely panicked, and casually walked to the desk to pick and choose.

The boss in the suit leaned against the wall as hard as he could, watching the boy move towards the door little by little.

"Aha! I found it!" Roger exclaimed in surprise as he pulled out a delicate pen from the table.

The boy took it apart, leaving only the hollow barrel of the pen in his hand, and the boss in the suit was close enough to the door, he threw the empty bottle in his hand and rushed out of the house.

"Let you run a foot first, if I can't catch up with you, you'll win~" Roger clasped his hands together and shouted behind him.

The old man in the suit ran downstairs and looked behind him from time to time, and the boy wildly smashed through the railing and pushed him against the wall and sat down on the ground.

"Who are you?" he leaned against the wall, touched his chest with one hand and said bitterly, "Even if I die, let me die clearly......"

Roger tilted his head to look at him, his eyes blinked innocently, and the barrel of the pen instantly pierced into his neck, but he just didn't speak.

The boss in the suit coughed twice, and pulled out the pen tube stuck in his neck with his hand in pain, and the blood flew out at once, and it couldn't stop flowing, and his action of covering the wound was only in vain.

"Don't struggle... You're dead. Roger sat across from the boss in the suit, "Your heart is three times faster than usual... Because of the excessive blood loss, the heart will stop beating for about 30 seconds, and... You will suffocate to death~"

The boy's tone was flat, as if he were talking about the good weather today and suitable for kite flying.

The boss in the suit stared at Roger with wide eyes, his vision had begun to blur, but he still snapped out a few words like coughing up phlegm.

"You... Who the hell is ......," he said with difficulty.

Roger smiled and replied, "26 seconds..."

"Ahem... Tell... I ......"

"27 seconds..."

"Ahem... Ahem..."

"28 seconds..."

The boss in the suit was silent, his eyes still staring vacantly in the direction of the boy.

Roger stood up and rolled his eyes and thought for a moment, "Am I counting slowly?"

No one answered him.

Besides, Roger didn't really care, he didn't care about the corpse of the boss in the suit, he strolled up to the third floor.

The boy realized that it was divided into rooms like a hotel, and the distance between the doors was not small.

Kicking open the door one by one, Roger opened his eyes.

What kind of hotel is this... This is a fucking torture room, with all kinds of props neatly placed in glass cases, and there are those who understand and those who can't.

Roger even saw a small mace!

He couldn't help but snort... How much does this hurt......