Lee Sin's Bizarre Adventure

Chapter 252 The Man in the Mirror

As a stand-in messenger with the ability to shrink, Holmaggio finally felt the power from insignificance.

Those six bullet knights, who were much smaller than ordinary stand-ins, were now raging in his chest unscrupulously.

Even without bullets, they are still knights who can bring back the glory of victory to their masters.

And this glory will eventually bring pain and death to the enemy.

"Uh--"

Hormaggio let out an inarticulate moan immediately.

His breathing stopped at this moment, and an indescribable pain surged in his chest.

He could feel his fragile lung walls being torn apart by the six villains, and the flesh and blood that maintained his life were easily torn apart like paper.

The flesh and blood in the lungs were quickly torn open several times, but the six small "drills" were still drilling inside his body non-stop.

And their drilling is purposeful and directional.

"Damn. My heart!"

Hormaggio struggled to do something.

But those six villains had premeditatedly tore open his lungs, and arrived at the atrium between the left and right lungs in the blink of an eye.

Although the destructive power of the sexy pistol is extremely low, the heart is not the kind of place that can easily take damage.

This is the center of human blood circulation and the source of power for the human life system.

Therefore, the moment those six little guys began to move their hands and feet against the heart, Holmaggio immediately developed symptoms similar to acute myocardial infarction:

The heart throbbed violently, and the blood pressure dropped sharply.

The hands and feet are numb and out of control, and the consciousness tends to be blurred.

Holmaggio was seriously injured and continued to lose blood for a long time. His limbs were cold and numb, and his blood pressure was very bad.

Now that he was hit hard in the heart again, he completely lost control of his body under this blow.

He went into shock.

No, it was more serious than shock, it was sudden death.

Without even having time to speak, Holmaggio's fire of life was like a light bulb that had been pulled out by someone, and it became dim in an instant.

He fell heavily in front of Mista, into the filthy sewer.

It may be because the death was too sudden, or it may be because the heart was damaged and the pain of sudden death from shock was too great
His pair of eyes remained the same as before, and he was staring at his enemy until he died.

"it's finally over."

Looking at Holmaggio's eyes of death, Mista heaved a long sigh of relief.

There is no doubt that he is the winner.

It's a pity that this victory came too tragically.

The current Mista was lying next to Hormagio's body.

Although his body was very strong and resistant to beatings, this almost cut in half injury was absolutely unbearable pain for him.

If he couldn't get medical treatment in time, he would really die in this sewer with Hormagio as he said when he lied to the enemy.

Thinking of this, Mista immediately squeezed out his last bit of strength, and took out the phone from his coat pocket:
"Li Qing is right."

"You can't dress too fancy."

Seems to be having fun in the midst of suffering, or in order to maintain himself, Mista is talking to himself with difficulty:

"It's a good thing I'm wearing the normal shirt I wore all the way from Naples three days ago, and I have a jacket pocket for stuff."

"If I really put on a sloppy tights like those hooligans, I will die today."

Mista, whose upper body was left intact, sighed.

Fortunately, the mobile phone survived along with his jacket pocket, otherwise he might not even be able to call for help.

Now he can call his teammates for help through his mobile phone in time, and the train station is not far from this point, so he naturally has a great chance of surviving.

"but."

"I didn't help Li Qing, but I became a wounded person who needed help."

Mista struggled to press the key to dial, while looking at Hormaggio's face full of unwillingness.

The eyes on that face were still round and staring.

Vaguely, it seemed to be saying to him:

"It's just going to the street to find ice. It seems."

"It's not that easy."

Mista sighed slightly.

Time moves forward a little.

Near Venice Railway Station, another direction that is different from Fugo and Mista.

A breakfast restaurant has just opened, and an unexpected visitor came to the store:
"Hey, put all the ice cubes here in bags for me!"

"Don't be stunned! Didn't you hear clearly?"

"Give me the speed at which you take off your pants when you need to urinate, and keep moving!"

In addition, Polnareff, who may be close to 2 meters tall with hair, unknowingly showed his gnarled and majestic muscles, like a five-fingered mountain falling from the sky, abruptly lying in front of the restaurant employees .

Polnareff is also a member of the ice hunting team, and he is solely responsible for the visit in one direction.

He took the initiative to win this task.

Because Polnareff has been suffering too much all these years.

Before last night, he had been trapped in that little wheelchair, hiding in one inconspicuous corner after another.

The master swordsman who used to be nimble and agile had to ask for help even going up and down the stairs during such a long time.

Not only is this sad, it's hopeless.

After experiencing such pain, Polnareff, who had regained his healthy body, hated nothing more than staying still.

He has been sitting in a wheelchair for too long, and now he just wants to run as fast as he can.

Therefore, when the team needed something, Polnareff immediately volunteered to take up the task of going out to find ice.

In this way, he moved his newly reborn body to his heart's content, running freely in the ancient streets of Venice.

Soon, Polnareff found a breakfast restaurant nearby that had just opened.

The restaurant does have a stock of ice cubes, and the staff in the restaurant are very cooperative.

There is no way not to cooperate.

Polnareff was already burly and imposing, coupled with trendy clothes, avant-garde hairstyle, scars on his face, and exposed muscles, he was very difficult to mess with at first glance.

If you don't send this vicious door god away quickly, probably few customers will dare to enter the restaurant for dinner.

Therefore, the clerks hurriedly packed a large bag of ice cubes for Polnareff, and then brought them up cautiously and cautiously:

"First, make the ice cubes you want."

They were as tense as a hostage communicating with a kidnapper.

But the "kidnapper"'s response was surprisingly friendly:

"Okay, thank you."

Polnareff took the ice and thanked him very gentlemanly.

That alone is not enough.
He even habitually took out a wallet from his pocket, and then pulled out a few banknotes with large denominations:

"You keep the money, I bought the ice cubes."

"If it's too much, it's a tip from me."

Yes, he gave money.

As a well-educated French gentleman, although Polnareff looks a little fierce and intimidating, he is a very well-behaved and polite man in his bones.

He would try to avoid the matter of taking things without giving money if he could, and causing less trouble if he could.

This is one of his principles, of course, maybe it is also a habit he has cultivated carefully over the years.

But in any case, unlike those gangster knights who are bohemian, maverick, far away from money and money, and do not go with the world, Polnareff does have a wallet on him.

And there is quite a lot of money in this wallet——

As a disabled person who was not able to take care of himself, Polnareff knows better than anyone else the importance of carrying enough money on his body.

Therefore, now that Polnareff randomly took out a few banknotes with a large face value from it, it was enough to make those restaurant employees forget the trauma of their fragile hearts in an instant.

"Guest, go slowly!"

“Welcome to visit again!”

When Polnareff walked out the door, the shop assistants called him differently.

Money really has a wonderful power no less than a double.

It was nothing more than a few pieces of paper with numbers drawn on it. The restaurant staff who wanted to send Polnareff out immediately made a show of giving them off at the door of the store in a blink of an eye.

In this way, Polnareff's tall figure quickly disappeared under the affectionate gaze of all the shop assistants.

With the bag of ice in his arms and the wallet in his hand, he ran towards the station with all his strength.

Soon, Polnareff ran to a long bridge.

Venice is a city of water. There are many rivers and rivers on the island. You can see ships and bridges everywhere you go.

These bridges are big or small, and the small ones may be just a few meters for pedestrians to shuttle through. They are so exquisite that they can be called works of art.

The long one, like the one under Polnareff's feet, straddles both sides of the river, with a length of tens of meters in front and back, and the bridge deck is wide enough for cars to cross the river.

It was still early in the day, and there were not many cars on the bridge, only scattered residents and tourists walking across the river.

"After crossing this bridge, the train station is not far ahead."

Looking at the train station that had clearly appeared in front of his eyes, Polnareff couldn't help speeding up his pace.

He ran up the bridge along the way he came, but he heard a faint roar of a car engine behind him:

"There was a car coming up behind me, and it was going fast."

"Is it a passenger going to the train station? Or... is there an enemy chasing me?"

Although it was just an ordinary car, and most likely it was just a passing passenger, Polnareff subconsciously raised his vigilance.

He has experienced too many battles, and such a wealth of combat experience has almost tempered his intuition with a sixth sense.

Maybe it's just his over-carefulness, but being careful won't hurt:
"Silver chariot!"

Polnareff immediately summoned his substitute.

The silver armored swordsman stood beside him holding his sword. At the same time, Polnareff stopped decisively on the bridge and turned his head to look at the car from a distance.

He wanted to watch the car pass in front of him before moving on, instead of handing over his back to a stranger whose identity was difficult to determine.

And unfortunately, it can be said to be lucky, Polnareff's bad premonition seems to be right—the other party seems to be really an enemy.

The car chasing from behind has been driving very fast, as if it is in a hurry to catch up with something.

However, seeing Polnareff stop on the bridge, the driver immediately stepped on the brakes.

The car drove up the bridge all the way like this, and then came to a smart and sharp tail flick, and finally came to a menacing stop in front of Polnareff.

"It really came for me!"

Polnareff's eyes instantly became dark.

The relaxed and gentle temperament instantly disappeared from his eyes, replaced by a kind of caution honed in the endless darkness.

He didn't rush forward to attack, but approached step by step under the protection of the silver chariot, carefully peeping at the enemies in the carriage.

But it doesn't matter if you don't look at it, the situation becomes weird when you look at it:

"What about people?"

"Where's the driver who was sitting in the driver's seat? Why is it missing?!"

Polnareff was surprised to find that the driver's seat was empty.

The driver, who could clearly see the outline, disappeared inexplicably as if the world had evaporated after the car stopped in front of him.

"Is it a blindfold, or does it have some spatial ability?"

Polnareff became increasingly vigilant.

The silver chariot protected his side and helped him monitor the space behind him and beside him.

But he was staring at the empty car parked in front of him, trying hard to find some clues from the weird scene in front of him.

Then Polnareff succeeded.

But it was not Polnareff who found it, but the enemy himself:
"Are you looking for me?"

"Don't look for it, I'm right here—"

"Right in front of you, in this mirror."

The figure of a strange man quietly emerged on the mirror-like glass of the car.

This is not someone's reflection in a mirror.

Simply, there was an extra man in the mirror.

Now Polnareff sees not only his own reflection in the mirror, but the man standing opposite him.

But beside Polnareff, in the real world, there was no trace of that man.

That man seemed to be living in the world of mirrors, and now he was standing leisurely in the mirror, looking at Polnareff in front of him with piercing eyes.

"Is there someone in the mirror?!"

Polnareff's eyes widened in surprise.

An absurd and unspeakable sense of familiarity suddenly surged from the bottom of my heart.

　One update today.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)