The purple-black sky was filled with thick cumulonimbus clouds, the wind had stopped, and the air was suffocating.

Looking down from the sky, two ant-like figures chase frantically in the palm cemetery, bypassing the tombstones, through the grass, and rushing to the botanical garden behind the cemetery.

Dean sprinted wildly behind.

Wet black hair fluttered in the wind, and beads of sweat splashed in the air.

And Jack in front of him, who was injured in both legs by M1911A1, but he still walked like a fly, and the injuries that were enough to disable ordinary people seemed to have no effect on him.

He always kept a distance of eighty or ninety meters from his pursuers behind him.

He stopped abruptly beside a tombstone, turned around, raised the Colt .38 revolver with both hands and snapped a shot.

Bang!

Bullets burst into the air.

Dean shuddered as if he had been hit in the abdomen with a baseball bat, and a bullet hole was torn open in his black suit, leaving an extra white mark on the bulletproof vest inside.

And the warhead loses kinetic energy and falls into the lawn.

……

The blow was ineffective, and the man continued to turn and run.

The two sides of the chase maintained the rhythm next.

Every few minutes of running, the man in front turned around and threw out a shot, disrupting the pursuit, and then continued to escape.

Dean became more and more frightened as he chased, and he tried to shoot two shots forward, but the distance was too far and he was in a state of intense movement, and his shot was similar to hitting the air.

But Jack, the Eater of the Dead, is obviously no longer the old antique of fairy tales and legends, it has already integrated human society and mastered all kinds of human skills, and the shooting technique is superb, changing bullets, turning, pulling the trigger, eating and drinking as naturally and smoothly, and almost no shots miss.

The bullets of the revolver baptized Dean's torso, head, limbs in turn...

If he hadn't been wearing body armor in advance, the opponent's shooting intention would have been too obvious to summon shadow protection in time.

He has died at least ten times.

Despite this, he couldn't get close to Jack, and his superpowers, shooting, and fighting were completely useless, and he was pied alive by the other party.

……

The man's right hand was pulled into his arms at a dizzying speed, and his left hand flicked the revolver.

Then put your hands together.

The five fingers are like butterflies wearing flowers.

Click, click...

In a single breath, he reloaded his bullets and fired a random shot behind him.

Bang!

Gunshots!

Dean clutched his right chest and roared angrily.

Without hesitation, the man turned around, stepped over the guardrail of the cemetery, and rushed into the lush botanical garden.

Dean then rushed in, pausing in his footsteps and looking around.

This green area is filled with strangely shaped rocks jutting out of the ground, and the view is greatly obstructed by plush Joshua trees, emerald green sand willows, cacti, and tall and thin palm trees.

God's perspective is limited, Dean lost the figure of his target for a while, and had no choice but to turn off the tape recorder, slow down his breathing, and follow the clusters of blood, carefully tracking forward.

In order to avoid being cold-shot, he moves in a strange and funny way.

Sprints, pauses, sprints, pauses.

Rush from a shelter point to a raised Crane Beak Rock, and then from the Crane Beak Rock to a clump of desert willows.

The footsteps are steadily serpentine and moving.

At present, the limit summoning time of "Shadow" is only about nine minutes, and he can only intermittently summon to protect the vital points.

Otherwise, there would be no need to be so sneaky.

After chasing two hundred meters, Dean stopped behind a clump of verdant sand willows.

Tick.

A drop of rain fell from the sky on his face, and the coolness was refreshing.

Drain and drain.

A continuous drizzle of rain poured down the mud-covered botanical garden, and a hazy mist quickly rose between the sky and the earth, and the blood on the ground quickly faded as the rain washed away.

A silver serpent suddenly swept across the dark sky, and the swaying plants cast a narrow and swaying black shadow on the ground, both noisy and quiet, like a group of demons playing a game of scarecrows.

Dean also stopped in front of a pool of blood that had not yet been washed away by the rain.

The blood trail pointed to a huge cactus with one-man tall branches not far ahead.

He gripped Colt tightly, reined in his breath, and touched it on tiptoe like a cat, but halfway through.

God's perspective caught a crouching figure behind a round mirror-shaped stone not far to the left—

Close to the stone, holding a gun in his left hand, a dagger in his right hand, and two blood stains on the hem of his suit, but the wound actually stopped bleeding miraculously.

It turned out to be hiding here.

Knowing nothing, Dick continued to walk towards the cactus, leaving his back unsuspectingly exposed to the other's eyes.

The teardrop-shaped paddle flew out of his jacket pocket, and under the influence of telekinesis, he unconsciously circled the mirror-shaped rock on the left.

Hovering in mid-air.

The sharp tip was aimed at the man on his tiptoes, pacing in small broken steps, close to Dean's back.

Hmmm-

air hiss,

The board drew a silver line like an arrow offline, slammed into the back of the man's neck, and pulled horizontally!

Whoa—

Blood flowed from the baby's mouth-like opening.

The man snorted, rolled forward against the ground, got up and sprinted frantically.

But like an annoying bat, he chased after him and stabbed him in the back of the neck, bursting with blood.

Wait until the man rushes out of the huge rock that serves as cover—

Dean was already waiting for the gun, and pulled the trigger at him.

Bang bang bang!

Bullets penetrate the rain screen.

Dean fired three shots in a row, all aimed at the neck and side of the face.

The deafening sound of shooting suddenly suppressed the roar of the torrential rain, and the man's head was deflected in horror, half of his face was like a smashed tomato, and two bloody holes were burst out, and one temple was torn by a bullet.

A strong bloody gas dispersed into the air.

An injury that is enough to kill an ordinary person several times, but it only makes a man's body shake.

Immediately after, a low roar rang out.

Roar... Ha...

Ripples rippled in the transparent air.

The magic sound stabbed into Dean's brain like a sharp knife, piercing it through countless holes, and a grief that was stronger than the one in the cemetery poured out of the holes.

Crash it all!

The ears were buzzing, as if a group of people were crying in despair.

Dean was in a trance and couldn't concentrate, and Colt who was holding his hands drooped involuntarily.

Shadow turned on the tape recorder and turned into armor to wrap around his body.

Wow... For... Wow, bmm, bh

Disco of joy poured out.

Covered in blood and with white bones on his face, the man who looked like a demon seized the opportunity to rub his body and pounce.

Bang!

The purple-black sky was split by lightning, and rumbling thunder exploded.

The huge impact knocked Dean into the wet and sticky mud, the muddy water soaked through the coat, the man's knees pressed against his lower abdomen, and the dagger was raised in his right hand, aiming at his neck and falling!

Bang!

The thunder was accompanied by a series of sharp blades stabbing at the cowhide-like trills.

The cold light rises and falls again and again.

The silver light illuminated a cold and cruel face, a wildly waving arm.

But the man poked five times in a row, all of which were bounced off by the "ghost armor", failing to cut through an inch of the skin of Dean's fragile neck.

The man pointed the muzzle of the revolver at the forehead of Dean who was pressed under him, who happened to be awake at this time, and his black pupils were opposite the dark green vertical pupils.

Telekinesis deflected the muzzle of the gun for a split second, and the bullet slammed into a dirt pit next to Dean's head, and the splattered wet mud plated the side of his face with dark spots.

He then launched several counterattacks-

The left hand grabbed the man's index knuckle like lightning and pressed it in reverse, pressing the phalanges so that the phalanges broke and the skin folded back.

The right hand poked into the gap in the man's neck and pulled horizontally, the skin and flesh rolled up, and the red and white intertwined blood vessels and trachea were exposed to the air.

The knee is on the man's crotch.

The bloody triple blow, replaced by ordinary people, had already fainted in pain.

But the man didn't seem to feel pain, and smashed the bridge of Dean's nose with a head hammer without changing his face, and when he was dizzy, his right hand burst out with wave-like power to overwhelm Dean's hands, and the cold muzzle was re-aimed at the center of his eyes!

Bang!

Quack!

Bang!

Quack!

Shooting, wrenching hammer.

Shooting, wrenching hammer.

Sweat and blood flying!

The man held the trigger with his right hand, and his left hand kept slapping the hammer, using the revolver to create a burst effect.

The muzzle of the gun was pressed to the head, and one shot after another.

The air hummed and the ground trembled.

White smoke rose from the muzzle of the gun, and the pungent smell of gunpowder spread out in the flickering sparks.

Dean seemed to have been hit on the head by a hammer in a row, his body arched backwards, his fingers and toes straightened, and he fell backwards into the mud one by one, and blood oozed from his eyes and nose, and he had no backhand.

However, the "ghost armor" that guarded his body showed extraordinary toughness, and this invisible armor continued to gather and strengthen towards the firing point like a whirlpool, stubbornly resisting the impact of gunpowder and steel, ricocheting off the white smoke of the warheads, and quickly thinning and lightening.

While defending, "Shadow" even spontaneously used telekinesis to roll up Colt who fell to the ground, floated to the back of the man who pressed Dean and dumped bullets frantically, and pulled the trigger in the air!

The man's neck was deflected, and there was a bloody hole at the junction between his right shoulder and the back of his neck, but he just snorted and waved his hand back to shoot away the attacking firearm.

Looking down at him again, a vivid surprise appeared on the terrifying face of flesh and bones-

The bullet had already been missed, and Dean was overwhelmed by the impact and his eyes were closed and unconscious, but the bloody face was still intact without a single bullet hole.

"Mommy Farko! What kind of monster are you? ”

The man roared and gave up the attack, got up and straightened the twisted index finger, and twisted his neck spine with a click, took a deep breath, and the flesh and blood on his face and neck came to life and stretched out countless flesh buds, sticking to each other, and instantly stopping the bleeding.

But this capacity is very expensive.

His face turned white as gold paper, and he staggered into the rain as if he were seriously injured.

I don't know how long it took.

The sound of rain and boiling disco.

Dean who was lying in the mud like a corpse groaned, opened his bloodshot eyes, and barely sat up straight, only to feel that his mouth was full of fishy breath, his head was splitting, and when he reached out, his eyes, ears, mouth and nose were full of blood.

He gritted his teeth and picked up the gun and the board, stood up tremblingly, and then fell to his knees again.

"I... Vomit... What's wrong with me? Concussion? ”

He took a deep breath and tried many times, and with the strong resilience of Iron Man's talent, he finally managed to maintain his balance and stood up with difficulty, subconsciously summoning "Shadow", but there was no response.

Obviously, the shadow has reached its limit and disappeared automatically.

Dean wiped the blood on his face and coughed violently, fearful, angry and unwilling,

"Or did you let the Eater of the Dead escape?"

Bang bang!

A few gunshots rang out in the woods in the distance.

His heart tightened, he took out the spare magazine in his arms and replaced it, and followed the voice, but his legs kept shaking as he walked, like a zombie that had just crawled out of a grave.

A few minutes later, he saw a figure in a wet black suit.

Rumble!

Lightning illuminated the other party's shiny head, his poker face with deep nasolabial folds, and a bright red blood stain on the shoulders of the black suit.

He was walking away from the cemetery with his shoulders covered, his steps staggering, and he looked very tired.

"Carl, instead of letting you stay in the cemetery to take care of Holden, why are you here? You're hurt? ”

Di An's head froze, but he pretended to be relaxed and walked over, the smell of blood in his nose getting stronger and stronger.

"I don't care, I just got a shot in the shoulder, but honestly, what the hell is that thing?" Carl stared at the north with trepidation, "I shot him in the neck, but he was completely unaffected, and he almost shot me in the head with a backhand, and then ran away in an instant. ”

Carl wiped the rain from his face, and Dean sat slowly on the rock beside him, panting violently in pain and retching from the dizziness in his head.

"I don't know what it is, but it's certainly not Jack, and it's not something we can deal with," Dean said helplessly, "and it's completely planted in its hands this time." ”

"Forget it, it's good for people to live." Karl said with a concerned face, "You're more injured than me, stay here and rest well, I'll call for backup." ”

Dean nodded silently, and God's perspective swept to the forearm in Carl's sleeve.

It was slick and without a trace, and the marks written with a waterproof pen were gone.

Dean's pupils contracted as if stimulated by a strong light, and a trace of bitterness and sadness swelled up in his heart, but he smiled on his face,

"When you come back, remember to bring me a can of beer."

Carl made an OK gesture and turned to leave in the direction of the cemetery, but he didn't notice that the person behind him instantly raised Colt and aimed the muzzle of the black hole at the back of his head.

A burning sensation of iron and blood, endless rage, connected to Dean's whole body along the gun.

Eater of the Dead!

I sentence you to death!

Gunshots!

Sparks splash.

Karl fell forward as if he had been hit by a rushing train, his face buried in the ground, muddy water splattering, blood staining the pool.

Three bullets, powerful kinetic energy tearing through his flesh and skull, creating a terrifying hole.

Even if it is an inhuman body, it has temporarily lost its ability to resist after suffering continuous heavy blows in a hurry.

Did you hit with a Colt M1911A1? , dealing medium damage, proficiency +1*3, shooting lv1 (98/200)

Dean staggered over, staring at the back of his head with a blank face.

Bang bang bang!

Pulling the trigger in succession, it emptied the magazine and replicated its brutality to itself not long ago.

Dean watched coldly as its limbs trembled and convulsed, and half of its head splashed in all directions like a fountain of flesh and bones, revealing red and white brain tissue.

You use... Causing severe injuries... Shot Lv1 (102/200)

Not dead yet!

"You're going to in the head!"

Intense anger and mixed emotions drove Dean to crouch down, spread the five fingers of his right hand to brush away the bone fragments, and reached into the broken wound on the back of its head, aiming at the white tissue like kneading tofu, tearing, grabbing, and kneading until it was crushed and crumpled into residue.

The Eater of the Dead was like a beast skinned on a chopping board, trembling and twitching nervously, but unable to make a sound.

Proficiency hints kept flashing in Dean's eyes.

He kept digging and destroying from this badly injured body, and this desire was so strong that he lost his mind and kept attacking, attacking!

You use... Deals heavy damage, Mastery +1*9, Combat Lv1 (152/200)→ Lv1 (161/200)

Dean withdrew his right brain-stained hand, flipped the unconscious monster over, lifted the board, aimed it at his neck, and fell hard.

"You're going to cut my neck?!"

Brush brush brush.

Combat skills are activated.

The blade dissects the flesh like an animal, splits the trachea and major arteries, and pokes the cervical vertebrae.

Again and again.

The movement was so fast that it danced into an afterimage, and splatters of flesh and blood splashed all over Dean's face, and there was a hearty madness in his pale face and eyes that were glaring to the extreme.

Come on, kill me.

Come on, keep running!

Do you use weapons to hit the board? Deals Medium Damage, Combat +1*20, Combat Lv1 (181/200)

Sadness, hatred, pleasure, burning more and more in the chest.

Dean was fascinated and mechanically repeated the action of stabbing the board in the neck.

The man trembled more and more violently, and then at a certain moment, his limbs fell to the ground, not moving.

The board suddenly poked into the dirt.

Dean looked stunned, and looked down to see that the man's head had been poked alive by himself, and he rolled around on the ground.

The face that belonged to Carl was facing him, as if questioning with his life.

The blood-stained board was hot and shiny at the same time.

Apparently the soul of the Eater of the Dead, just like the four hunters who had died, was trapped in it.

A large number of bright red hints skimmed in front of Dean's eyes—

Survey progress 90/100→95/100.

You slain the Eater of Occult Beings, and specialize in the Occult Hunter Launch.

Your physical injuries have recovered somewhat, and you have absorbed 1.5 Physique from the Eater of Deaths.

Physique: 12.6→14.1.

……

You used the Blade to decapitate the Eater of the Fallen while in its shapeshifting state. Mastery +20, Combat Lv1 (200/200)

Do you want to upgrade?

Be!

Fighting Lv1→ Lv2 (0/300)

Sensitivity +0.5, 12.2→12.7

Power +0.5, 10.8→11.3

Physique +0.5, 14.1→14.6

Dean's tired body seemed to have been suddenly injected with a potent stimulant, and the hot current flowed from the corpse of the Zombie Eater into his, swimming in a circle and spreading throughout his body.

A furnace was lit in the body, and the limbs and bones were ignited by the boiling flame at the same time, gushing even more extreme heat.

The span of physical attributes with a total of 2 points before and after is too large!

He heard a strange clicking sound in his body, and his skin, muscles, bones, joints, muscles, and blood vessels grew, lengthened, strengthened, and toughened under mysterious nourishment.

His nose and mouth exhaled hot air, his cheeks and neck were red, and his palms and skin all over his body seemed to have been baked, red and dripping blood.

The scars on the back of the hands, all over the body, are visibly faded to the point of almost disappearing, leaving only smooth, delicate, and strong skin.

But there was no time to rejoice, and an uncontrollable mania and anger made him grab his blazer.

Whoop -

The big red hand pulled, and the suit was pulled in half.

Bulletproof vests tossed aside.

Revealing a fine body of muscles.

Down-chested, Dean buried his head in a pool of cold, filthy water to extinguish the heat in his body.

When the rain subsided, a white light shone through the dark clouds.

The maddening heat in the body finally dissipated, and the tiredness and pain of the body, as well as the intense dizziness that had been concussed by successive explosions, were burned out.

He wiped the mud from his face, his eyes brightly surveyed his reborn body, and he felt better than ever.

"If you can give me 1.5 physique, this monster's physique attribute will only be higher, no wonder the vitality is so tenacious."

Dean's gaze flickered to the corpses on the ground, his anger was vented, but he also left a mess.

After he died, the Eater of Horraries still maintained Carl's appearance, and how did he use it to rescue Abby in the detention center?

The carl-looking corpse can't be blamed for Abby's murderer.

Yes, and Karl's deity.

"Carl?!"

Dean turned and shouted, his voice piercing through the drizzle and echoing through the lush botanical garden.

He turned on God's perspective and searched the neighborhood.

A few minutes later, the real Carl was found under a palm tree, and he was taken off his coat, leaning against the tree in a tank top and shorts, clutching his shot neck and going into shock.

The blood from the wound slid down half of his body, staining a large piece of his shirt red, and his chest only fluctuated faintly, like a gossamer.

"Hold on, I'll take you to the hospital right away."

"We've caught the murderer, you haven't seen it yet, you can't die!"

Dean examined the wound, ripped off the rags and tried desperately to bandage it, but his fingertips could barely feel the beating of Carl's carotid artery, and his life was irretrievably lost.

At this juncture, Dean drilled a sentence from Thomas Allen in his mind - the fate of a police detective must not end well.

Fuck it!

"It's too late to send him to the hospital now, this ordinary person only has ten minutes left to live, do you want to save him?"

A hoarse, magnetic, bass-like voice abruptly came from behind Joshua's tree not far away, causing goosebumps to break out on the back of Dean's neck.

He looked up nervously.

A ragged homeless man with messy hair and a shawl walked over, with a stubbled face and black blindfolds, and the other looked at Dean with one eye.

For a moment, it seemed as if there were bright stars, and the vast and cold universe passed before his eyes.

He sank into the incomparable vastness and opened his mouth,

"You're Tem?"

"Tyme outside Balkadisco?"

"Kill Alexander Raphael's Tym?"

(End of chapter)