Before the knife arrived, the chill had become stronger.

This is indeed a good knife, and a trace of cold light has emerged from the thin red silk.

The person in the back was dressed in blood-red clothes, and his blood-red eyes were gloomy and weird, without a trace of the vitality that a person should have, maybe the kind of person who kills people all the time.

It gives people a sense of unease and foreboding, and whoever looks at it can't help but want to vomit.

The guillotines have been lowered, and the old, quaint barrels are clinging to the sides.

The dog's eyes stared at others stunned, indescribably fierce, cruel and vicious.

He didn't speak, but walked over and pulled the red silk from the guillotine.

The knife is out, the knife is out of its sheath.

The person was already not far away, his head was still on his neck, and the dog's head didn't seem to be in a hurry, waiting quietly, without a hint of urgency.

The ghost king is gloomy, but he is about to collapse and collapse.

There is no wind, and there is no light.

The meaning of slaughter between heaven and earth is even stronger, which is unbearable and impossible to face.

Fluttershy clung to her chest, her hands clutched in her arms, her teeth chattering.

It stands like a lifeless stone statue, and is motionless like a stone statue.

A person is about to die, and he does not want to die because of the pain and discomfort, and he must choose to die more comfortably now.

The only thing that made him die was the gun.

The gun didn't move, and neither did the hand holding it.

The dog's head didn't move, the thin piece of red silk in his hand had twitched, and the lifeless cloak was also twitching.

The yellow paper on the side has been swept away, and it has been cleaned up thoroughly.

Several officials also had a dead gray color without a trace of vitality on their faces, ominous, restless, and gloomy.

They walked up to the doghead and didn't speak, just nodded.

The doghead also nodded.

One of the officials pulled out a finger-sized pitch-black cylinder from his bosom, and a plume of smoke suddenly erupted from the cylinder, soaring into the sky and piercing into the sky.

The voice was sharp and high-pitched, and the snow-white smoke suddenly suspended in the sky, suddenly condensing into a mysterious pattern.

A guillotine suddenly appeared.

Dog's head.

The dog head didn't look at it, staring vaguely at the gloomy neck.

He never left.

Not far away, there were already several horses, rushing straight forward, the horses neighing, and the knights were fierce and brave.

Suddenly there were many coffins on the long street, brand new coffins.

A skeleton has been put into the coffin and has left.

There are no bones here, let alone blood, but there are people, as long as there are people, there is a chance to bleed, and there is a chance to have bones.

The gloom has fallen, as if it has collapsed, as if it has collapsed.

He could only breathe, and that breath was extremely delicate and weak.

It was as if he was going to die, and he might have died without a guillotine.

What was the force that brought about such a change in him? A generation of ghost kings is gloomy, and there is no trace of vitality or vitality.

In an instant, it had become like a withered flower, crippled, ugly and clumsy.

He no longer has the courage of a ghost king, not a trace.

The group of people on the long street slowly left with coffins, the doors of each shop were closed, and every window was closed, as if they were afraid that they would suffer disaster.

The red silk is still dancing in her hands, and so is the cloak.

The thin and transparent red silk seems to be the delicate cheeks of a girl, indescribably hazy and mysterious, revealing a cheerful and exciting pleasure.

There was no wind, but it was still fluttering, and there was no trace of tiredness.

There are no more people here, not even more dead.

Isn't it time to kill? Isn't it time for the prisoner to be punished?

An official on the side of the guillotine nodded to the dog-headed guillotine, and the dog-headed guillotine also nodded.

He nodded, and the dog's head was lifted.

The blade has completely appeared, and the chill is even stronger, more frightening, and chilling.

The official took out the snow-white soft cloth from his arms, and took out a wine jug, which was tilted, and the wine had flowed onto the snow-white soft cloth, and then gently wiped the blade.

The blade is brighter and colder.

The official threw the snow-white cloth into the old, quaint barrel.

The blade had been wiped clean, and the man had nodded to the dog's head and stood solemnly to one side.

The doghead blinked, staring at the gloomy neck, "You come here." ”

It was the first thing he said, and his words were stiff and sharp, as if they were the sound of a guillotine opening.

It's very reminiscent of the sound of a blade rubbing against a blade, stiff and sharp.

The gloom had not passed, and the body had trembled more violently and frantically under the voice.

Fluttershy can't stand the pressure anymore and seems to be going crazy.

She also secretly grieved and cherished for the gloom, this person is really not a person, nor is it a ghost, this is a living knife.

A murderous knife.

Wusheng suddenly kicked the gloomy spirit away, and really landed on the side of the dog's head, and when he looked up, he saw the blade, and the bright blade was already very large.

It was the doghead who opened it himself.

He doesn't look at Nothing or Fluttershy.

He stared vaguely at his gloomy neck, staring very carefully, very seriously, as if a serious student was staring at a book.

The gloom had shrunk into a ball, and the mud could be faintly visible on his neck.

The doghead nodded.

There are three officials left here, and the three officials have no smile, no trace of joy.

They nodded too.

After they nodded, they suddenly made a move, one pulled out the gloomy head, the other pulled the legs, and the last one slowly took out the snow-white soft cloth from his arms, and slowly took out the wine, the wine bottle was tilted, and the wine had flowed to the soft cloth.

His movements are direct, simple, fast and skillful, and anyone can see that his work on this soft cloth is perhaps more advanced than that of Buddhists on the Diamond Sutra.

His enthusiasm and energy have drifted away on the soft cloth.

The wiping action is not large, but it is very clean, clean without a trace of dirt.

The neck has been wiped clean, and the blade has been cleaned.

The doghead stared at the gloomy neck and nodded, as if satisfied.

The three officials let go and stood aside, staring at the guillotine with dead gray eyes, at the old and quaint barrel.

The dog-headed lowered his grim neck under the blade, his hand touching the hilt.

Staring gloomily at the wooden barrel, there was a soft cloth in the old and quaint wooden barrel, faintly wafting the aroma of wine, spirits.

The lifeless stone statue stood upright, and the stone statue was silent.

There is no trace of emotion in the empty eyes, and there is no trace of change.

The two of them didn't say a word, let alone look at each other more, they didn't seem to want to look at each other more.

The pitch-black spear head did not tremble at all, and the cloak shook as if it was a girl in estrus, as if she wanted to shake out all the tenderness and loneliness in her heart, and there was no trace left.

Fluttershy glances at it, twists her neck again, and closes her eyes tightly.

The hand didn't move, and neither did the guillotine.

Only gloomy ones moved, and the body had trembled like a Xuan playing cotton, and every bone joint had been shaking.

The cold sweat on the corners of his forehead had dried up, and there was not a trace of sweat on his yellow cheeks, and even if there was, it had been wiped clean by the official.

The hand did not move, and the man nodded.

The official on the side suddenly walked over, leaned down, and took away the few strands of hair on the side of the gloomy neck, and didn't think of having a single one.

The neck is clean under the blade, and the blade is clean on the neck.

The distance between them was close to nothing, almost nothing, and the blade didn't move, still didn't move.

For the hand that held the hilt of the knife did not move, neither moved, nor let go.

The dog-headed didn't nod,

Staring at the neck, there was no dirt on the clean neck, not a single hair, and no clothes, and there were absolutely no ways to hinder the downward pressure of the guillotine, completely none.

There is only one action left, the guillotine pressing down.

But the guillotine didn't press down, and the hand didn't move.

The blood-red eyes stared at the snow-white neck, the few green tendons on the snow-white neck were already pounding, and the throat was shaking violently.

Why didn't the dog head press the guillotine down? Life and death are instantaneous.

Death is coming, the handle of the knife will be pressed, the head will be broken, and life will be lost.

At this time, the official suddenly walked over slowly and whispered twice beside the dog's head.

The doghead nodded.

The official suddenly took out the snow-white soft cloth from his arms, and he actually felt the snow-white soft cloth again.

The snow-white soft cloth was taken out, and the wine was slowly taken out again, the flask was tilted, and the wine had flowed onto the soft cloth.

This person seems to have a cleanliness habit, a very crazy cleanliness habit, where are you going to wipe it this time? Is it a blade? Or the neck?

These two places have been wiped clean, extremely clean, and there is no need to wipe them down again.

But he slowly squatted down, crouched on the edge of the guillotine, and stretched out his hand.

The snow-white soft cloth in his hand has wiped the corners of his gloomy mouth, very slowly, and very carefully, as if a kind mother is wiping the baby's buttocks, indescribably careful and loving.

The saliva from the corners of his mouth had been wiped away, not a drop of saliva, not even the few drops that had flowed on the guillotine.

Eerie staring at the old, quaint and dreary barrel, there was another piece of snow-white soft cloth.

He couldn't figure out why there was more soft cloth, falling into it piece by piece, and his heart was about to be smashed and flattened.

Intense wine.

Inhaling it can only make people afraid and sick, and he has no power to fear and gag.

Now some of them only breathe, delicate and without a trace of strength, let alone a trace of vitality.

Isn't that true of all the dead?

It was as if he had felt the feeling of his soul leaving his body, ethereal and mysterious.

The hand did not move, and the knife did not press down.

The official suddenly came over again, and when he came, he had already spoken, "Do you have three urgency?" ”

The sound seemed to come from the willow branches twitching the walls in the night, dull, dull and hurried.

Eerie nodded.

His breathing became heavier again, and his veins seemed to be beating more violently, as if they would burst at any moment.

The official pointed not far away, he obviously didn't want to go very far.

Eerie nodded.

The official came up to him again, and the dead gray eyes were already shining, "This is the severed head, it's your last time." ”

Eerie nodded.

He didn't understand, he had only heard of the decapitator, not the decapitator.

In any case, it's all the same, isn't it the last time?

The last time is to enjoy it, enjoy all the fun and pleasure in it, because this is the last thing you can enjoy in life.

His life had come to an end, and no one could save him.

He didn't want anyone else to save him.

He walked far away, reluctant to come near them, as if he were afraid that they would disturb the enjoyment.

The dog's head didn't move, his hands didn't move.

The blood-red eyes stared vaguely at the gloomy neck, which was not as delicate and smooth as a girl, but it attracted him deeply.

His heart, his soul, was completely attracted, and nothing could disturb that attraction, not at all.

At this moment, the neck trembled a few times, and then suddenly floated up and floated away.

He tried to escape.

At that moment, the hand moved, and so did the dog's head.

Gegege made three sudden sounds, and his body was broken into three parts.

Fluttershy's body shuddered violently three times.