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Chapter 11 Daredevil (Please add to your favorites!)

"Diamond Legs! Diamond Legs, huh!"

Inside the private box, gunshots and heart-wrenching screams of hammers echoed throughout.

Du Mu didn't put away his Golden Desert Eagle until he had emptied the magazine.

He has a bad memory, so he always likes to settle scores on the spot.

Du Mu hadn't forgotten Hammerhead's arrogant and mocking face at all. How dare a mere NPC provoke the Fourth Calamity? He was simply courting death!
At this moment, Hammerhead's legs were a gruesome sight, riddled with countless bullet holes, and blood had soaked through his trousers, turning them a dark brown and leaving a glaring stain on the carpet.

It's hard to imagine the inhuman torture he endured in that short period of time.

Hammerhead lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes glazed over, repeatedly muttering, "I have Iron Head Kung Fu, not Vajra Leg Kung Fu. I have Iron Head Kung Fu, not Vajra Leg Kung Fu."

Wesley, who had been lying face down under the sofa, witnessed this bloody and brutal scene, and his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

How cruel!

Wesley boasted that he had been in the underworld for many years and had seen it all!
But he had never seen this scene before!
He single-handedly wiped out almost the entire Magia gang, and even tormented a notorious gang leader like Hammerhead like a toy.

This can no longer be called a battle; it's a one-sided slaughter!

Wesley had never believed in any gods, but now he did, and he kept praying to all sorts of deities not to let this evil spirit find him.

Perhaps the gods heard his prayers.

Du Mu seemed oblivious to Wesley in the corner, dragging Hammerhead out of the private room by the ankle like a dead dog.

Hearing the departing footsteps, Wesley felt his heart begin to beat again.

"Hallelujah!"

He made the sign of the cross on his chest, crawled out from under the sofa, forced his eyes away from the mess of corpses and pools of blood, and immediately dialed a phone.

"what's up?"

A deep, imposing voice came from the other end of the phone.

Wesley took a deep breath: "Mr. Kingpin, something's happened. The Magia gang is gone, and Hammerhead has been captured!"

"Ok?"

Kingpin's voice betrayed a hint of surprise: "Was it the Devil Gang? Or the Russians?"

"No! None of them!"

Wesley's voice trembled slightly: "It was a man I'd never seen before. He single-handedly took down the Magia gang. Even Hammerhead was no match for him. According to him, he seems to be from the NYPD."

Kingpin: "?"

When did the NYPD become so aggressive?
On the other side, Du Mu was dragging Hammerhead, who had fainted from the pain, through the dark alley.

As for that small fry who slipped through the net in the private room, he couldn't be bothered with him at all. He wasn't a red-name target, and there would be no reward for killing him.

"System, why can't we use the map for fast teleportation?"

Du Mu complained in his mind that it was really troublesome to drag a big living person along.

[Living animals are prohibited during map teleportation, and objects weighing more than 10 kilograms are also not allowed.]

"Understood." Du Mu glanced at the hammer at his feet. "I'll chop him up right now and take 10 kilograms of meat with me."

【.】

Just as Du Mu and the system were arguing, a sound of something breaking through the air suddenly rang out!
A dark red short stick shot out from the side and above like a venomous snake, aimed directly at his wrist that was gripping the hammer!
boom!
The gunshot rang out almost simultaneously with the arrival of the short stick!

Du Mu didn't even turn around completely; he simply raised his wrist casually, and the Golden Desert Eagle spat out a tongue of fire. A bullet struck the short stick with perfect accuracy, sending sparks flying as it clattered to the ground.

He then looked up at the source of the attack. Above the club entrance, atop a towering streetlamp, stood a mysterious figure.

The man was completely covered in a tight-fitting dark red leather jacket, and wore a half-coverage mask with two pointed corners. The lower edge of the mask revealed his stubble-covered buttocks and chin.

Bathed in the dim light of the streetlights and the boundless darkness behind him, he resembled a bat demon descending from the shadows, exuding a cold and dangerous aura.

That's right, this person is none other than Daredevil, the Dark Guardian!
"Hand the man over."

Daredevil's voice was deep and hoarse as he pointed to Hammerhead, who was unconscious at Du Mu's feet.

Du Mu grinned: "You think I'll just hand it over like that? Wouldn't that make me lose face?"

Seeing Du Mu's flippant and casual attitude, Daredevil's brows furrowed tightly beneath his mask: "He should be judged by law, not subjected to this kind of vigilante justice."

“What a coincidence, I’m a New York police officer.” Du Mu shrugged.

"No, you are not."

Daredevil denied it firmly, his voice even more serious, "A real police officer wouldn't act like you. I can smell the strong stench of blood on you!"

As the saying goes, when God closes a door, he opens a back door.

Daredevil is clearly the man who entered the back door of God.

Although he is blind, he possesses sensory abilities far exceeding those of ordinary people; apart from his sight, all his other senses have become exceptionally sensitive.

In terms of hearing, Daredevil can easily hear the sound of a human heartbeat, and even the sound of blood flowing in the body.

In terms of smell, he can distinguish the natural odor of individuals and remember and identify them, no matter how they try to mask their smell.

On Du Mu, the bloodstain was so thick and tangible that Daredevil could not have been acquired from killing a dozen or so people.

That was the massacre of hundreds, or even thousands of people!
"How many people have you killed?"

Daredevil couldn't help but ask.

Du Mu, still chuckling, asked, "Do you remember how many loaves of bread you've eaten in your entire life?"

This easy yet cruel answer made Daredevil gasp for breath.

As a devout Catholic, he adhered to an inviolable principle of non-killing.

Du Mu's blasphemous acts of slaughter, which treat human life as worthless, are an absolutely intolerable desecration and evil to Daredevil.

"That's a living human life!" Daredevil's voice rose in anger.

Human life?

Du Mu seemed to have heard an amusing joke and chuckled matter-of-factly: "They're just a bunch of data; they won't actually die."

He paused, the muzzle of the gun casually pointing towards the hammer at his feet.

"Like this!"

boom! !

To Daredevil's astonishment, the Golden Desert Eagle unleashed a deadly flash, the bullet instantly tearing Hammerhead's neck apart!
Clearly, this Iron Head Kung Fu practitioner hadn't mastered the technique to his neck, as large amounts of blood gushed out like a fountain from his torn carotid artery.

Hammerhead's body convulsed violently, then he fell completely silent.

Du Mu looked at the corpse on the ground and shook his head with a hint of regret: "What a pity. Bringing a live one back would have increased the mission completion rate, but dragging it around is just too troublesome."

Daredevil stood frozen atop the streetlamp, a chill instantly creeping up his spine.

Just because you find it troublesome, you casually ended a life!?

(End of this chapter)