It's pitch black across the video.

It was too dark, and there were no lights on in the carriage.

I could only see a blurry face with indistinguishable facial features.

Sizzle.

The black shadow grinned, his voice hoarse, with a thick resentment: "General Zhang, long time no see." ”

"Isn't it good to be dead? Why do you want to see it? ”

Zhang Ruoyu's dark eyes flashed with cold light.

"I died, but King Yama won't take it." In the dark lens of the picture, Zhao Ziwen is full of anger. "Take you, and the king of Yama may take it."

"Okay, I'll give you a chance to challenge the legend of Beimang." Zhang Ruoyu unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car.

The kite also wanted to get out of the car, but was glared back by Zhang Ruoyu: "Are you not afraid that he will turn the tiger away from the mountain and turn around and chop up Mr. Han?" ”

The flat mouth of the kite, the black convoy is full of big guys, and the security system is on the top.

Who dares to go wild here?

"I still want to see the excitement." The kite said sullenly.

"Next time, definitely."

Zhang Ruoyu closed the car door lightly and walked towards a black Buick.

Knock knock.

Zhang Ruoyu knocked on the car door and went straight to the car.

The atmosphere in the carriage was cold and creepy.

The man sitting in the driver's seat suppressed his crazy heart.

Sou!

He kicked the gas pedal and drove away.

Smack.

Zhang Ruoyu lit a cigarette, glanced at Zhao Ziwen, and said indifferently: "Life is so tired, a suicide attempt, won't you come more often?" There is no pain when you die. ”

Crunch!

The car stopped in a damp and claustrophobic alley, Zhao Ziwen got out of the car and stared at Zhang Ruoyu: "I'm still a little unwilling to die like this." ”

"Why did I become a street rat, and you are the famous Beimang Young Marshal, General Zhang who everyone admires." Zhang Ziwen pulled out a knife.

A Beimang knife.

Zhang Ruoyu glanced at the Beimang knife in Zhao Ziwen's hand lightly, and said lightly: "Everyone thinks that I am more talented and talented than you, but you think I am not as good as you." ”

Zhang Ruoyu threw the cigarette butt into the stinky ditch and said lightly: "The truth is not in the hands of a few people every time, and the eyes of the masses are not blind every time. ”

Zhao Ziwen's eyes were like poisonous snakes, and he said coldly: "I want to try." ”

"Beimang Dawu five years ago, I missed it."

"I heard that you didn't participate either?"

Zhang Ruoyu raised his eyebrows and said: "You know, I'm different from you, I'm very low-key and don't like to be in the limelight." ”

Zhao Ziwen heard the ridicule in Zhang Ruoyu's words, his eyes showed murderous intent, and he slowly drew his sword: "Former leader of the Beimang Tenglong Division, Zhao Ziwen." ”

"Beimang, Zhang Xiangbei."

Shout!

Zhao Ziwen brazenly took out the knife, and his movements were crisp.

Five years ago, everyone was looking forward to this big martial arts, the focus battle, and the championship battle, which was the one between Zhao Ziwen and Zhang Xiangbei.

Even in the eyes of many leaders, whoever wins is the future leader of Beimang.

Shout!

When Zhao Ziwen drew his knife and came, Zhang Ruoyu suddenly moved.

The soles of his feet and the floor erupted with a shrill and piercing sound.

Suddenly turned sideways, avoiding the Beimang Knife.

Then lean.

Bang!

Zhao Ziwen's body regressed, as if he had been hit by a mountain, his internal organs were shaken, and blood gushed out of his mouth.

"Beimang."

Zhao Ziwen's hand holding the knife trembled slightly.

wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth, and frowned: "Your explosive power is stronger than five years ago." ”

Zhang Ruoyu said indifferently: "Don't get me wrong, I've always been so strong, you were a person five years ago, so I let you." ”

"Tonight, you're not a human being anymore."

Zhang Ruoyu patted the dust on his shoulder, and slowly approached Zhao Ziwen, his dark eyes were full of anger and murderous aura: "You are really like a child, you have to be coaxed by others, and you will follow." If you don't coax and be unhappy for a day, you will take your brother's life and sacrifice the flag. ”

"I'm not supposed to give you hope."

"I should have let you know earlier that you are nothing in front of me."

Shout!

Zhang Ruoyu moved again.

This time, he drew his knife.

The blood debt should be paid in blood.

If you're dead, you're dead, why deceive the corpse?

Zhao Ziwen didn't even have room to resist, and on his neck, blood gushed like a spring, splashing on the damp wall.

"Hmm..."

Zhao Ziwen covered his neck.

Stiffness all over the body, and breathing gradually becomes difficult.

His face was as pale as paper, and he looked up with difficulty and looked at Zhang Ruoyu, who was expressionless.

Oh no, Zhang Xiangbei.

This recruit who entered Beimang two years later is now a legend of Beimang, an immortal myth.

In the past five years, he has paid more attention to Zhang Xiangbei than anyone else.

He once thought that all the honors that Zhang Xiangbei had should belong to him.

The national god of war who stands at the top of the military headquarters should also be himself.

Until this moment, when Zhang Xiangbei's Beimang knife cut his throat, it was not only his blood that sprayed out.

It seems that even the resentment and hatred he has accumulated for many years are vented from the knife.

He doesn't hate anymore.

And willingly.

In front of the Beimang legend Zhang Xiangbei, he is indeed vulnerable and nothing.

In terms of tactical arrangement, he is not even as good as Long Fei.

All kinds of past, but a dream.

The greatest sorrow of man is not that he was born at the wrong time, but that he is not self-aware.

"Go down, remember to kowtow to the brethren."

Zhang Ruoyu said lightly: "You owe them." ”