Fight the evil situation, try to fight for a moment and be unprepared. The punches and kicks are added together, just for the sake of suddenness.

Face-to-face "sneak attack" of the three kings is not okay, the answer is yes, the premise is that you can't think of it, you can't see it.

No one believed that Thirteen Lang would make a move on the monk, and the people around him didn't believe it, and the monk himself didn't believe it. If you don't believe it, you can't think of it, even if you face to face and look at it, as long as you can't think of it, you have the basis for a successful sneak attack.

It's hard to think that it's easy to see, and it's not the action that can't be seen, but the flow of mana.

The monk's Dao method is magical, but no matter how magical the Dao method is, it also needs mana to urge it to be used, and in the face of this kind of power, Mr. Eight Fingers said that the mana can not be hidden from the other party. Fortunately, Shisanro is not only a monk, but also a warrior, as long as he can hit the other party, his body, his fists, his legs, feet, and his head are enough to kill.

Unexpectedly, he couldn't see it, so the monk was tricked.

"Bang Bang Bang"

The raid started with the word "rob" and ended with the "donkey", and Thirteen Lang instantly attacked five punches and two feet plus a blow to the head hammer, and the move hit, and the move was real. It is like a knife sinking a wood, an axe falling down a weeping poplar, the sound is like a defeat and cracking, and it is like a giant beast stepping on the field, and the dullness is condensed with slaughter and coldness, as well as red light and electric light.

The attack is not a surprise attack at the beginning, but only to amplify the power as much as possible. Mr. Eight Fingers didn't need to worry about the leakage of mana, and the hurricane outside his body was like a real wind, surrounding, pushing, and destroying the monk's body step by step, falling straight down to the thirteenth knot.

Thirteen sections are thirteen steps, thirteen steps are thirteen rooms, the dignified impure king is wrapped in countless fist shadows and retreats, piercing through the hall and breaking through the walls of the triple six doors. until it landed on the street outside the house. The muffled hum and muffled sound were drowned out by the whistling, and the thunder and fire roared fiercely. Two knife-like furrows appear on the ground, at first glance. There seemed to be countless bison running along the same track.

The truth will not only take effect on one person, and the attacker must use mana to exert his magical powers, but the same is true for defense. In the process of being "beaten", the Impure King was unable to escape, which could only be explained by the fact that all his energy was used to resist the opponent's fists, and he could not distinguish a trace of residual thoughts.

Even if the sneak attack was carried out first, such a result was still unacceptable, how could Mr. Eight Fingers be so strong!

The people around collectively lost color, listening, watching, and feeling, but no one made any sound. The sound of impact is in the ears. The first bit of blood bloomed at some point, and the onlookers were cold in their hearts, and they couldn't help but think about it: If you were in the position of a monk, what would the result be?

"Bang!"

The sound of the seventh impact came into his ears, and Lin Wanrong said to herself in her heart: "I'm dead, and the baby can't be saved." ”

"Bang!"

With the eighth muffled sound, the Great Elder Shining reminded himself: "The old man's body has collapsed, and the Yuan Shen has suffered a heavy setback. ”

"Bang!"

A muffled voice sounded, and the man in Tsing Yi snorted coldly. A streak of blood came out of the nose.

"Bang!"

There was no continuation of the offensive, and the scene suddenly exploded again, accompanied by a roar and a low roar, and a figure flying upside down, or pounced upside down. Above the roof. Catwoman didn't know when she stood up, her eyes flashing like starlight, and her right palm was clenched.

"Jun. Pro!"

In the low roar, the battlefield was full of gunsmoke. Countless flying masonry beams began to slowly fall back at this moment, and Shisanlang struggled to get up from the ruins. His lips were bleeding and he still had a smile on his face.

Clear and clear, smart and clear, Mr. Eight Fingers' expression makes people wonder if he didn't just fight with the Impure King, not like he had just put his face on the face of death, but as if he was stepping on the lake with his wife and accidentally wetting his clothes.

"The master is so powerful, the master is really a master. ”

Many people have this thought in their hearts, as if they have forgotten what happened and can't remember what kind of fight they had experienced before.

It's kind of weird. If Mr. Eight Fingers admired the master's strength, he should have reversed those two sentences, but now that he said this, it sounded more like a mockery, and it also had the meaning of naming names.

The Impure King is the Master, and the Master is the Impure King, so why do you need to name him like this? Could it be that he also has a more secret identity like the Blood Dance King?

The doubts were fleeting, and everyone turned their eyes to the distance, wondering in their hearts what had happened to that very powerful master, and had he died?

The master is not dead, and the master is not intact.

His robe was tattered, with two large holes torn under his armpits, and the pages of his robe swayed in the wind, a little desolate, his left hand pinched his fingers but trembled, and his right palm circled his chest as if he were pressing on some weight, and it seemed to be hurting with a flick. The huge nose had somehow been deformed, towering from wide to flattened, and it was stained with red pulp. The most wonderful thing is that the monk's expression is not the slightest embarrassment, but it makes people feel that the Buddha's face is solemn, the Taoist heart is wise, and even the all-present bitterness on the face is dissipated and turned into boundless compassion.

"The little gentleman is amazing, and he really impressed the monk. ”

Xiao, or Xiao, whichever it is, can make the impure change the title, which is enough to prove that the impure has repositioned the thirteen lang on the same level.

A surprise attack in exchange for such a result, others were very satisfied, but Shisanlang was very dissatisfied, so he sighed and said, "It's a pity, it's not enough. ”

The monk looked at him with pity and regret, and said with emotion: "Yes, it's not enough. ”

Thirteen Lang stood up straight, threw his arms and sighed and said, "It's all to blame on you, master, obviously your body is stronger than me, and you don't want to remind you." ”

The people around gasped, and what shocked them was not that the impure king was strong, nor that Mr. Eight Fingers was shameless, but that everyone couldn't figure out why Xiao Eight Fingers could not die.

Three kings are three kings, old monsters, indescribable heritage, and there are countless hole cards. Since the Impure King has dual cultivation of the Dharma Body and is physically stronger than Thirteen Lang, why was he so embarrassed before, and he was beaten to the point where he almost burst out before he could fight back? How could Thirteen Lang be able to suppress an opponent who was stronger than him and continue his attack to such an extent?

Those who are qualified to stand here are powerful, and those who are not high up and cannot be touched by others. The gods are used to it, and what the monks are pursuing is how to make the Dao more powerful, so how can they have time to study how to use the art of the physical body?

In their understanding, refining the body is a hard body. In layman's terms, it is durable and long-lasting. As everyone knows, the same liliang and the same body are used in the hands of different people, and the effect is very different. It's not the same.

The monk's cultivation time exceeded that of Thirteen Lang dozens of times, and even without any treasures, he had already turned into ten thousand forged refined iron. It's hard not to be tough. But he is not a warrior after all, and fighting with Thirteen Lang without the assistance of supernatural powers is like a stupid bear catching a mouse and being beaten. Of course, what is more important is that what Shisanlang uses to attack is not the body, but the fists that are stronger than the body of the Impure King, and the speed, point, position, and fighter are all beyond a lot, how can he not be able to force him.

Water droplets can still penetrate stones, no matter how tough the body of the impure king is, the instinctive reaction will eventually exist. For example, if the soft underbelly is beaten, it will definitely twitch. If you hit your nose, it will definitely be painful and sour, and as for your eyes, the back of your head, your throat, and your lower vulva, can you get it in those places?

Neither can the gods, let alone him!

Force is force, no matter what mana physical strength, the huge liliang crashes into the body, and the body of the impure king becomes a drifting boat in the flood and a fallen leaf in a hurricane, how can he react?

"Careless, careless, monk. ”

Thinking back to the previous battle. The monk shook his head again and again and sighed, and said sincerely: "It is taboo for those who underestimate the enemy and are proud of themselves, and the monk should punish himself if he violates the precepts." ”

What is self-punishment? For ascetics. Self-punishment is self-harm; the bitter-faced Buddha followed the law, saying that he really started self-harm, holding the tail finger of his left hand with his right hand. It snapped it off.

"Ho!" exclaimed, and everyone who saw this scene was amazed. I thought that a master is a master, and sure enough, my heart is resolute and extraordinary. The difference in perception is the Blood Dance. Its pupils had now returned to normal, and a bit of sarcasm appeared on its indifferent face, and it slowly sat back in place.

The tail finger was broken, the white bones and red flesh were black tendons, but there was no blood at the broken fork; the severe pain pierced the heart, and the monk frowned slightly at the broken wound, looking puzzled.

Thirteen Lang looked at his actions and said seriously, "It's not enough. ”

The monk's thick eyebrows furrowed even tighter, and his eyes seemed to be open, as if he was feeling something.

Thirteen Lang kindly reminded and said, "Broken Hongchen, do you remember the master?"

The monk raised his eyebrows and said, "This is not a break, it is a send." ”

Thirteen Lang responded: "Of course you can send it, the master is under the disciple of the mountain monarch, and non-humans and non-demons cannot cross the sea of suffering, so they have to seek a way of liberation from the red dust; ”

Mountain-kun, mountain-kun!

Hearing the name of the mountain monarch again, the group of cultivators lost color and felt panicked, and they forgot where they were for a while, and they all let out a low roar.

"He's a subordinate of the Mountain Monarch!"

"Under the Sect of the Mountain Monarch, the Spiritual Venerable?"

"How many sons is he?"

The crowd was disturbed, and the bitter-faced Buddha paid attention to only one thing, and said in disgust: "Red dust obstacles, pickled things, this king will go to them!"

After that, the monk gently wiped his left hand and broke off the tail finger of his right hand. The faces of the onlookers changed color again, and at this moment they realized that Mr. Eight Fingers had a vicious heart, and he actually fused karmic fire into his fist and sent it into the monk's body.

Most people only hear the name of this thing, and they can't see it if they want to. It is easy to understand that a monk must be a monk, and what he seeks in the red dust is liberation rather than integration, and of course he avoids karmic fire.

In other words, from a purely combat point of view, Mr. Eight Fingers has a good strategy and happens to attack him to save him.

The question is where does he get his karmic fire, why does he practice this kind of exercise, which any cultivator has to avoid, and how does he refine and control it?

There was no explanation for the question, and Thirteen Lang sneered: "The master wants to be an eight-fingered monk, and the junior is embarrassed to rob you; ”

This is a fact, and the monk has also realized at this moment that the liliang buried in his body that makes his mana is not smooth seems to be forced to a finger, and when it is really broken, it still can't be eradicated, as if it is immortal. According to his estimation and Thirteen Lang's judgment, it is indeed necessary to cut off his hand to get rid of it, otherwise he can only wait for the future to slowly try to spend a lot of time refining.

The monk was silent for a moment, then raised his gaze and said, "It's not enough. ”

Shisanlang wiped the blood from his lips and said seriously, "I will continue to work hard." ”

The monk shook his head slowly, twisting his fingers like an orchid and tapping forward, his expression was compassionate, and his eyes were full of pity and reluctance.

"The little gentleman is going to die, so let's rest. ”

(To be continued......)