The two guys were hit by the door panel so hard that they didn't even take a few steps back, and sat on the ground.

Several other people near the door were startled, and hurriedly took a few steps back, some went to help the two people, and some craned their necks to observe the situation.

I took the opportunity to step out, closed the door with my backhand, and glanced left and right to see the situation in the courtyard.

There were people outside the doors of all three rooms.

A cotton coat, a woolen hat, a cotton mask, and a ruler-long knife in his hand.

This kind of dress is obviously to prevent exposure.

But for a charlatan like me, it makes no sense.

I can't see the face and body shape, and the spirit is impressive, as long as I see it once, I can't hide it.

For example, the two guys who came last night, although they were dressed exactly the same and their height was not outstanding, I still recognized the two of them at a glance, they were both standing in the front, obviously stepping on the spot last night, and leading the way today.

I touched a cigarette and threw it into my mouth, only holding it without lighting it, and asked: "Which way is the old one, smash the kiln and the bright field, and don't take the account first?" ”

The people in the courtyard gathered together, looked at each other, and without saying a word, they rushed to me with their knives in hand.

There was no bold shouting, only a stuffy charge, obviously all veterans of slashing people.

I smiled, took out the paper figure, leaned over to the cigarette butt, and shook it gently.

The paper figure burst into flames.

The cigarette was lit.

Last night, those two guys suddenly stopped, threw knives, scratched all over their bodies, and screamed without stopping.

Burnt smoke billowed from inside his coat.

This change frightened everyone, and they all stopped, looking at the two guys at a loss.

The two screamed heartbreakingly, took off their coats, and ripped off their close-fitting clothes.

Both showed extensive burn marks on their skin.

The skin is charred and rotten, the sparks are dotted, and the green smoke is rising.

The burn marks expand at a speed visible to the naked eye, spreading throughout the body in the blink of an eye.

The two of them turned into two charred corpses, and as soon as they moved, they were covered in slag, revealing the bright red flesh underneath, which was then burned into charcoal.

In just over a minute, the two of them turned into two piles of charcoal scum that burned to black.

This scene was so tragic and terrifying that all the cotton coats in the yard retreated one after another, gathered together, and did not dare to rush forward.

But I didn't underestimate them.

In front of this kind of means, it is already remarkable that you can not be frightened on the spot and flee.

It shows that this gang is not a temporary team, it is a stable gang, and the boss's prestige is high enough to be in the team at the moment.

I took a deep breath of the cigarette, but it didn't reach my lungs and I spit it out.

The smoke rushed straight ahead, like a sharp arrow, flying straight out three meters away, spreading above the two piles of black charcoal, turning into a cloud of faint white gas, slowly spreading and seeping into the group of people.

"Take the two of them back and tell you that since you are engaged in paper people to beg for their lives, you have to do it to the end, and you can't just do half of it and show it. When the paper man is out, he must be begged for his life. ”

There were no warlocks among them, they were just ordinary thugs.

This makes me a little skeptical.

The ashes are selected and the paper people beg for their lives, all of which are serious warlock methods.

But when it was time to beg for his life, he actually sent a group of thugs to cut people, which was like a joke.

If you want to use these thugs to use their means, judging by the performance just now, it shouldn't be.

The methods of the charlatans are strange and unpredictable, but there is no one who can really kill people in the air, and the worst thing is to get the target's birthday, wear unwashed underwear, and secretly plucked hair and blood to use the means.

When I first came to Jincheng, I didn't have roots, and I was a disadvantage in making a name for myself and entering the circle, but it was an advantage in fighting methods, and I couldn't find my roots, and many means couldn't be used, and it was not easier to take off my clothes than to cut me directly.

If the other party wants to use the thugs to use their means, then these thugs will not back down, but will rush up desperately, at least to my side.

There's weirdness in this!

After a brief silence, several men stepped forward and used their cotton coats that had fallen to the ground to pick up the two piles of cinders.

Then everyone retreated silently into the darkness.

I snuffed out the cigarette in my hand, turned back to the house, took the same cotton coat that I had prepared in advance, put it on my body, turned out through the back door, and came to the road in front of the courtyard under the cover of darkness, and by the smell of smoke, I easily found the two people who were huddled in the dark corner and watched behind the hall, and patted one of them on the shoulder from behind.

Both of them looked back at me at the same time.

I waved at them.

They got up in a daze and left.

I silently followed, out of Dahe Village, and walked along the road for a while, when a van stopped on the side of the road, and went over to pull the door and get into the car.

There were already several people in the car, and three more were on board, and they were crowded like cans, but no one had any doubts about the extra person.

As soon as Fang sat down, the car started on the road.

There was an oppressive silence in the car, and it wasn't until nearly half an hour out that someone let out a long breath.

This time it was as if some kind of switch had been turned on, and everyone came alive, exhaling and exhaling, stretching their waists, scattering smoke and fire among themselves, and I also got one, and lit it by fire.

But no one spoke.

The car drove straight for nearly an hour before it stopped.

I got out of the car with everyone and saw a spacious compound in front of me, and on the east side of the courtyard was a dilapidated factory.

In front of the factory, there are many dismantled and incomplete tractors and harvesters, which look like a small factory of agricultural machinery.

In addition to the loaf of bread I sat in, there were two other loaves of bread in the yard.

The people who got off the bus all entered the factory in silence.

The building is small, with five rusty old lathes, which look like they have been abandoned.

All the people who have just been to my place are in the factory.

Or squatting in the corner of the wall, or sitting on the machine tool, or leaning against the wall, all of them turned pale, all of them smoked silently, occasionally raising their hands to draw a few times.

I couldn't help but be surprised.

No wonder he never said a word.

They were all dumb!

It's just that I don't know if they were chosen to be a thug because they were dumb, or if they were chosen to be mute.

Either way, I've caught a big fish!

On a lathe in the center of the factory squatted an extraordinarily stout man, not tall, with a full beard and a tattered cotton jacket.

This guy just went too.

At first, he stood at the back of the crowd, and when the two guys were burned to death out of thin air, they blended into the crowd and showed no water.

He squatted there and smoked a cigarette, looking a little restless from time to time when he raised his hand to look at the watch on his wrist.

I found a corner and stood still, silently smoking a cigarette, and waited patiently.

After about half an hour, there was a car sound outside.

A moment later, a man strode in.

This man was only in his early twenties, with a white face and tender skin, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his hair was combed and shiny, he was wearing a straight suit on the inside, and a neat tweed coat on the outside, exuding the atmosphere of a rich family from top to bottom, from the inside to the outside.

As soon as he walked in, all the mutes in the factory stood up with a hula hula, all looking cramped and afraid.

The tiger-like beard hurriedly extinguished the cigarette in his hand, trotted up to meet it, bowed respectfully, and then waved his thick hands for a while.

When the man like the second ancestor saw it, he sneered, raised his hand and slapped the bearded face.

I didn't look very hard, and I didn't even make a loud sound, but when this palm went down, the bearded face immediately swollen and swollen!

I couldn't help but squint.

This slap is kind of interesting!