The fact that the leader of the Matsuki Group was able to buy a house in Setagaya Ward, a wealthy area that is recognized by the world, was the result of the continuous efforts of the three generations of the Matsuki Gumi.

The mansion occupies a large area and is of the standard Japanese style, with a garden and a pond that surprises deer.

In the past, when the pine team leader fell at night, he would start a rich nightlife that ordinary people would envy.

It's just that he doesn't have that good mood today.

Kinjiro Matsuki sat on his knees in the hall, with a glass of boiled water on the table in front of him.

There was no one around.

He heard the commotion coming from outside, his right hand trembled slightly, and he poured himself a glass of water, trying to maintain the last face of his team leader.

Although he inherited his father's position as president, when he was young, he participated in the fight between organizations, and he was also a ruthless man who licked blood.

Until he succeeded to the position of president, he became more and more pampered, lost the sharpness of youth, and became more gloomy and calculating.

He thought it was growth.

Now that I think about it, it was just degradation, and the youthful spirit was gone, so I could only choose to arm myself with my scheming.

If it was before, he would never sit here like a mouse being targeted by a cat, motionless.

Kinjiro Matsuki thought.

The wooden sliding door suddenly slammed loudly, and half of the door cracked, and bright red blood was sprinkled on the tatami mats.

The man whose body was torn apart wailed on the tatami mat and crawled up, "Team leader, help!" ”

He burst into tears, left a few pairs of bright red handprints on the tatami mats, and completely lost his breath.

"It's weird."

Fluent English sounded, and the sound of footsteps fell from the outside corridor into the interior, as if a beast was approaching here.

Kinjiro Matsuki tilted his head, and a giant man over two meters tall kicked down the remaining sliding door and stepped into the living room.

His thick neck looked like a mass of steel twisted together, revealing terrifying muscle curves.

Sting looked at the Oriental man kneeling in the living room, scratched his head and asked, "Where is Muhamrad?" ”

This sentence is said in Japanese, and it is a bit stumbling.

He didn't know much Japanese, and he didn't understand Japanese even if he had time to learn this sentence.

But he didn't worry about communication problems, and the Secret Service's custom-made headphones could transmit the sound to his companions, and an interpreter who was proficient in Japanese would speak to him in unison to make clear what the Oriental man in the room was saying.

Kinjiro Matsuki shook his head and said, "I don't know, that weird man just kept me here and couldn't move."

He even killed my family.

In front of me, I tore my mother, wife, and daughter apart little by little with my hands, like shredding paper.

Even my thumb was ripped off by him! ”

At the end of the sentence, Kinjiro Matsuki could no longer hold back the fear in his heart, and he raised his right hand with a shout, his thumb had long since disappeared, and only a white oval bandage was wrapped.

"Ahhh

Ignoring his broken screams, Sting's eyes swept around, and he looked up and said, "Mohamrad, I know you must be in this mansion.

Don't hide it, what's the point? ”

As he spoke, he bent down and toe off the corpse's toes and threw it at Kinjiro Matsuki, who was screaming in front of him.

A man's toe is in his hand, and it is a bullet that takes a person's life.

Snap, Kinjiro's heart burst with blood, and the whole person fell backwards, unable to make a sound anymore.

Sting's imaginary explosion did not come, and his brow furrowed slightly, he thought that this man had already been made into a bomb by Mohamrad.

Zizi! A shrill sound sounded, Sting's face changed, and he immediately guessed that it was his companion who had an accident, and quickly turned around and ran outside.

……

Sting ran out of the mansion and stopped in the corridor again.

The moonlight was fine tonight, and a head suddenly flew from the moonlit wall.

The long golden hair fluttered in the air, and his cheeks lost their blood, splattering blood from his neck.

Sting stood there, his hands clenched into fists, tendons rising from his arms and neck.

He and Kano have also worked together for some years, and the two sides are not only colleagues and friends, but also have close and in-depth exchanges.

It's just that Kano is unmarried, plus bisexual, so he has never agreed to Sting's pursuit.

"Muhamrad!"

He roared, and his feet directly smashed the wooden planks of the corridor, and the whole person fell down, standing on the ground.

From the top of the wall, a tall figure climbed into the courtyard.

The man had a small head, a very dark complexion, but not dark, and no beard on his face.

"Don't talk nonsense, do it."

Muhammad shook the blood off his hand and said expressionlessly: "After I get you, I will welcome the next wave of guests." ”

"You're really rampant!"

Sting laughed angrily, lifted his foot from the hole, and walked out of the corridor, staring at Muhamrad in front of him with a pair of eyes, "It seems that you have forgotten how I was pushed around before."

Does the death of a subordinate make you dizzy? ”

Muhammad did not speak, but simply extended his right hand and assumed a posture of strength.

Sting smiled, he was quite confident in his grip with a box of unopened playing cards.

All he had to do was pinch it with his thumb and forefinger to break off a piece of it, leaving the box missing.

Not to mention the human body.

Any flesh and blood would become as soft as the yellow clay after a heavy rain when he pinched it with two fingers, and the bones inside were as crisp as Lay's potato chips.

He can even boast that he is the man with the strongest grip in the United States.

If Muhammad compares with him, he may still have a chance to win, but simply choose the grip.

That's a self-defeating one.

Sting strode towards Muhamrad, not simply believing that the other party was competing with himself.

He had been on the lookout for a conspiracy, and his huge and heavy body took the light steps of a big cat at this moment.

It seems to be a leisurely stroll, but in fact, it can burst into a thunderous attack at any time.

Muhammad did not make any movement, one hand remained in his pocket, and his right hand was stretched forward.

He wasn't worried about Sting's sneak attack.

A man like this also has pride in his heart, and that is pride in strength, such as his faith in Allah.

Sting's faith is that armor-like muscle, and such faith is destined for him not to resist any grip strength competition.

……

The distance between the two is getting closer.

When it was within the right range, Sting grabbed Muhamrad's right hand with his right hand and sneered: "You're done!" ”

As he spoke, his five fingers burst into a powerful grip.

Even if it was steel, at this moment, he had the confidence to pinch it into a piece of iron like a playing card.

With the frantic force of Sting's right hand, there was no reaction on Muhamrad's face.

The green tendons appeared in the palms and arms, and Sting gritted his teeth, and from between his teeth burst out a low roar like a tiger's roar.

Even so, the expression on Muhamrad's face did not change, his right hand suddenly clenched, and he exclaimed: "Your brute strength is not worth mentioning in my eyes. ”

As the words fell, Sting could feel his right hand whining, muscles, bones, and even nerves reminding him.

His strength is far inferior to the man in front of him.

Upon discovering this, Sting had no fear in his heart.

As a martial artist, he can only stand at his feet, but he has a wide world in his heart.

Once a dispute arises, there is a life and death between the parties.

Instead of wasting extra time on fear, fight to the end with all your might.

Sting twisted his waist, used his left foot as a fulcrum, and clenched his left hand into a fist, like a flying hammer slamming into Muhamrad's face.

Muhamrad's right hand slammed off, and Sting, who was close to three hundred pounds, flipped in the air like a child's toy, his left fist naturally missed, and one right foot suddenly enlarged rapidly in his eyes, not giving him a chance to dodge at all.

Bang!

A dull voice rang out.

In a life-or-death situation, Sting chose to hit Mohamrad's foot with his hard forehead.

The ending of avoiding both eyes being kicked by this one also caused a bit of concussion in the brain.

Muhammad did not miss this brief opportunity, and once again grabbed his right arm and lifted him up directly.

The left hand is clawed forward.

With a soft sound, Muhammad's left hand was already pinching the pale throat bone, mixed with blood and skin, exuding a bewitching beauty.

"Ho-ho."

Blood gushed in Sting's throat, and his eyes widened.

The turbulent brain calmed down at this moment, and it was at this time that he figured out that Muhammad had not exerted all his strength all along.

Why?

Sting couldn't ask this sentence anymore.

Obviously, his throat was torn open, and the wind kept pouring into it, but there was a feeling of suffocation that he couldn't breathe.

His massive body became wobbly, as if a person had drunk more liquor than he could drink.

Muhammad let go of his hand.

Sting could no longer stand, and the man fell backwards, making a thud on the ground, blood spilling out of his throat, flowing through his neck and quickly forming a pool of blood on the ground.

The bubbles that bubbled from time to time proved that Sting still had a breath.

"It is sad that the tenacious vitality does not match the strength, and it is also the punishment that Allah has given you."

Muhammad watched the scene and turned to greet the next wave of guests.

According to his calculations, the CIA group that attacked him at noon should not let go of this opportunity.

Sting can only be described as an unexpected visitor.

Let him vent the anger in his heart a little, the main owner is still that group.

Muhammad walked out of the hospital.

Under the moonlight, the air vibrated invisibly, and a tall blond-haired figure suddenly appeared, standing on the ground.

The air at the scene instantly became scorching.

The fair skin, the sturdy body, and the way in which ordinary people appeared made Muhammad stay on the spot, and then a strong look of excitement appeared on his face, and he roared: "Dior, I have finally met you." ”

(End of chapter)