When the two sides confronted each other, Mo Fan saw the person sitting in the purple off-road vehicle.

Driving the vehicle was a skeletal, skinny young man with pale skin, deep-set eyes, and an extremely agitated gaze, who was taking a big gulp of a colored inhalation spray.

Sitting in the passenger seat, he was a slightly chubby middle-aged man with a very ordinary appearance and no characteristics.

But on the back of his right hand, a blood-dripping skull was tattooed.

The remnants of the Bloodbones Gang.

Seeing the identity of the co-pilot Chubby, Mo Fan confirmed the reason for the ambush.

The time he traveled was very short, and he didn't have time to offend too many people.

Only the forces behind the Blood and Bone Gang would make such a big effort to deal with him.

The appearance of Chubby at this moment can be regarded as a complete confirmation of the previous speculation.

From his expression and body movements, it can be seen that Xiaopang is very afraid of thin young people.

Xiaopang wanted to leave quickly, but judging from the reaction of the thin young man, he was unwilling to give up the opportunity to kill Mo Fan at the moment.

Mo Fan shook his head, thanking for the gift of nature in his heart, it would be nice if all the enemies were such brain-hungry goods.

With the sound of the second explosion, both cars started at the same time.

The front of the car was the front of the car, with a posture of ending up together, and rushed towards the other party without giving way.

They stretched their weapons out of the window and frantically pulled the trigger at each other.

The former Bloody Bone Gang's little fat, from the moment the car started, took a rifle and shot wildly at Mo Fan's car.

The desire to attack is very strong, but the marksmanship can only be evaluated by the word casual.

Dozens of bullets came down, and only single digits hit the body.

On the other hand, the thin young man, although he looks like an addict who is about to die, he dares to lure Mo Fan over, not simply to speed up the progress of his life, but to rely on it.

He holds a macho man's exclusive shotgun in his hand, and he holds it in one hand, but his hand is surprisingly steady.

The muzzle fluctuates very little during fast driving, and it is supposed to be a prosthetic body implanted with the relevant function.

As soon as he got into range, he shot decisively.

Countless lead bullets sprayed out, and with the assistance of the prosthetic, 90% of the lead bullets hit Mo Fan's windshield, instantly causing the windshield, which already had a lot of scars, to be completely covered with cracks and could be broken at any time.

The thin young man was crazy enough, but Mo Fan was even crazier than him.

Mo Fan left the steering wheel with both hands, stepped on the accelerator to death, and was not ready to avoid it at all, and hit it hard to the end.

In terms of weapons, he chose a large-caliber revolver, which symbolically fired a few shots at the thin young man.

As he thought, the thin young man's car was also bulletproof, and the effect was better than the bloody car, which could not be broken with his current firepower.

But from the beginning, he wasn't prepared to rely on firepower to win or lose.

At a distance of fifty meters, the two cars were moving in opposite directions, and the speed was full.

In the blink of an eye, the two cars collided.

The lean young man's car was a tall SUV, and he had not been in a battle before and was in perfect condition.

Crashing into a muscular sports car, just shaking slightly, there is no danger.

Mo Fan's side is the opposite, his car is inferior to the purple car in terms of performance and weight.

He didn't wear a seat belt, and under the collision, the whole person flew out of the driver's seat, smashed the almost scrapped windshield, and rushed towards the purple car unabated.

With a bang, Mo Fan slammed into the windshield of the purple car.

The voice was dull and heavy, sounding like a fracture at the very least.

Just when the thin young man and the chubby thought that tonight's battle would end in a traffic accident, another breaking sound sounded.

This time the sound was crisp, it was the sound of the windshield shattering.

In the puzzled eyes of the two people in the car, Mo Fan, who was curled up on the windshield, revealed his left hand.

On top of his left hand, he wears an industrial mechanical fist that is not common in gang fights.

In front of the high-frequency vibrating mechanical claw, the bulletproof glass that can withstand the rain of bullets will shatter like paper paste.

Three mechanical claws passed through the windshield, grabbed the thin young man's neck, and pressed him to the back of the chair, unable to move.

The thin young man's eyes widened, and he stared at the mechanical arm that was pinching him.

He couldn't figure out how an industrial prosthetic body that was clunky and rough could appear on such an occasion.

"Why do you carry this thing with you?"

Mo Fan shot and knocked out the fat who wanted to sneak attack, and seriously recommended:

"This thing is much better than a gun, I'll have a chance to try it later."

He dragged the thin young man out of the car, broke his limbs and threw them aside, and returned to the car to take care of the little fat first.

Following the spiritual perception, he removed a brass-colored finger from the little fat.

While playing with his fingers, he came to the thin young man.

"Let's talk about who you are."

The thin young man had already recovered from the previous shock, and Mo Fan's behavior of dismantling the prosthetic body on the spot not only failed to cause psychological pressure on him, but the familiar scene made him relax.

His face was calm, as if it was not him who was in a desperate situation, but Mo Fan.

"You took something from the Three-Eyes."

"The papers?"

"You shouldn't have taken them."

At the mention of the document, the thin young man was silent, unwilling to say a word.

Mo Fan grabbed the thin young man's right hand and found that part of his palm had been replaced with metal.

The metal surface is printed with three vertical pupils of flames, which should be the symbol of the Three-Eyed Gang in his mouth.

While comparing how to remove the prosthetic body of the thin young man, he asked:

"What is the goods shipped in the document? I'm not going to tell people it's what you say. ”

Seeing that the thin young man did not answer, Mo Fan tightened the mechanical arm and pinched the hand bones of the thin young man to click.

"I like to communicate with people, I don't like to be silent, the last one who tried to be silent, what happened to him...... Forget it, I guess you won't want to know. ”

"Give you another chance, what are the goods you are shipping?"

The thin young man trembled, but he didn't say a word.

An addict who has been hollowed out by contraband has such hard bones really made Mo Fan a little unexpected.

"Pretend to be a tough guy, wait."

He was about to give the thin young man a little more intensity, but found that the thin young man lying on the ground shook his head frantically, opened his mouth to speak, but let out a painful moan, and could only hit his head on the ground to beg for mercy.

Mo Fan scratched his head, only to find that he had accidentally crushed the wrist of the thin young man, this kid didn't resist the beating, and he was so painful that he couldn't speak just now.

He found the inhalation illegal drug that the thin young man had used before, and gave the thin young man a sip.

The drug entered the body, which greatly relieved the pain and made the body of the thin young man stop trembling.

"I say, I'll say anything." The thin young man opened his mouth, and his throat was hoarse.

"It's not over sooner." Mo Fan shook his head.

The thin young man complained: "The rules on the road, if you sell this level of intelligence, you have to give a settlement fee and help run away, who knows that you don't even talk about the price, and you will be killed directly." ”

Mo Fan was stunned for a moment, and immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm not mixed with your way, I don't know the market." ”

"Forget it, when I'm unlucky, I don't know much about those goods, but ......"

Halfway through the thin young man's speech, the back of Mo Fan's neck was numb, as if he had been pricked by a needle.

Sensing the abnormality, he didn't care to listen to the words behind him, and hurriedly rushed forward.

Moments later, a grenade with tail flames landed in the direction he had been staying.

In the dazzling light, the explosion was deafening.