ebookslot Chapter 79 Flying Head Descent, Fish Head Descent
Chapter 79 Flying Head Descent, Fish Head Descent
Chapter 79 Flying Head Descent, Fish Head Descent
With the gun pressed against his forehead, the Southeast Asian man showed no panic; instead, he curled his lip in a mocking manner.
His right hand, which was in his pocket, twitched slightly, as if he was about to take it out.
"Don't move!"
Zhou Xing drank lightly.
The man from Southeast Asia glanced at Zhou Xing, about to speak.
Zhou Xing didn't even blink.
"Bang!"
Gunshots rang out without warning. Everyone's shoulders jolted.
Chen Qi shrank back, his glasses almost slipping off. Zhong Ding leaned back with a "whoosh" and crashed into the opposite bulkhead.
Even Renault's gray-green vertical pupils suddenly narrowed as he stared at Zhou Xing.
The blood did not splatter between the warlock's eyebrows.
The bullet felt like it had penetrated extremely tough rubber, squeezing in, drilling in, and then—it was held firmly in place by something.
The Southeast Asian man suddenly tilted his head back, his neck bones making a strange "crack" sound, and it felt like countless earthworms were crawling under his skin.
"Sizzle!"
The head, propelled by the force of the bullet, was forcibly pulled off the neck! A bloody, mangled section of the spine, along with the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, hung suspended in mid-air!
There was no gushing blood at the severed neck, only thick, black fluid bubbling and gurgling.
Flying head descends!
The suspended head suddenly opened its eyes, with only two faint green lights remaining in its eye sockets.
It let out a shrill cry, a foul stench swept over it, and with a whoosh, it crashed straight into the ghostly bell and cauldron!
Zhong Ding's mind went blank with a buzz, leaving only one absurd thought exploding within him:
Damn it! Zhou Xing fired the shot! Why did this thing bite me?!
He was considered a good shot, but he had never seen anything like this before. He frantically tried to grab his gun, but the flying head was already in front of him, its mouth open, revealing a mouthful of fine, sharp teeth that were biting right at his throat!
"Bang!"
Another shot.
The bullet grazed Zhong Ding's ear and struck the side of the flying head, causing it to tilt. Black fluid splattered all over Zhong Ding's face, emitting a foul stench.
It was Renault who fired the shot.
He had somehow produced a revolver with a gleaming barrel.
"Find cover!"
Renault shouted, his voice drowning out the flying head's hiss.
Almost at the same time the gunshot rang out, the cabin underwent a dramatic change.
"Bang bang bang bang!"
The other hatches, which had been tightly closed just moments before, were suddenly forced open.
From the first door, tremblingly emerged a gaunt old man with a sallow complexion, unable to answer a single question after three.
At this moment, he held an old Lebel rifle in his hand, the stock greasy and shiny, his hand incredibly steady. His cloudy eyes locked onto Chen Qi, who was closest to him, and he silently raised the muzzle of the gun.
The second door was smashed open, and out rushed out was the burly man with a fierce face who had been cursing earlier.
He gripped a meat hook in each hand, the tips gleaming with a dark purple light, clearly poisoned. He let out a low, beast-like growl and lunged forward.
The third door, the fourth door —
The small-time merchant, who worked as a smuggler, pulled out a machete from under the bed.
The "panicked mother" holding her child shoved the wailing child back under her skirt, then pulled out two palm-sized daggers from under her skirt, her eyes cold.
They are all people who observe the Dao!
They disguised themselves as all sorts of people, but now they've torn off their masks.
This place has long been their hideout.
"Bang! Bang! Rat-a-tat-tat!"
Pistols, shotgun shells, screams, the clanging of metal, and the shrill whistles of flying heads were all mixed together in a boiling pot, the sounds rolling back and forth in the narrow space, making people's brains numb.
After being shot by Renault, the flying head became even more ferocious. It abandoned the scattered bell and cauldron, drew an arc in the air, and fixed its green eyes on Renault in the center. Poisonous saliva dripped from its mouth, corroding the floor with a hissing sound.
Renault glanced over and shouted, "Close your eyes!"
Then, he reached down to his waist with his left hand and pulled out a small, dark iron ball. He flicked the safety with his thumb, aimed at the trajectory of the flying head, and gently tossed it over.
Ding!
The small iron ball suddenly exploded in the air, without sparks, but bursting out a white, silvery light and a piercing, high-frequency sound!
Flashbangs! And specially made ones at that!
The scream from the flying head suddenly changed tone, the green flames flickered and darted around in the air, temporarily losing their direction.
The crowd that rushed out was also blinded by the bright light, their vision went white for a moment, but they showed no sign of retreating, continuing to fire their guns and poison needles.
"Suppress the corridor!"
Renault gave the order, proceeding in an orderly manner.
The pressure returned to those gunmen and knife-wielders who had been observing the Daoist arts.
The bullets bounced wildly in the confined space.
When it hit the metal bulkhead, it sparked with a "clanging" sound, its trajectory unknown; when it hit the wooden door, it pierced through it, sending wood chips flying everywhere.
The boat was still gently rocking in the dirty river. This rocking was usually imperceptible, but now it was deadly. The sights slid back and forth on the target, and my feet felt unsteady at times.
A swordsman from the Daoist sect was rushing over. The ship swayed, and he stumbled, crashing into a pipe next to him. The bullet that Chen Qi had originally aimed at his chest flew over his head with a "whoosh," hit the iron plate behind him, bounced back, and almost grazed Zhong Ding's ear.
"Hold!"
Zhong Ding cursed loudly, but it was unclear whether he was cursing the enemy or Chen Qi.
The air was scorching hot, filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, and a strange odor, like rotten fish and shrimp mixed with incense, emanated from the Taoist priests, making one feel dizzy.
Renault moved the moment the shot was fired.
Instead of seeking cover, he took a half-step forward, placing himself at the relatively open intersection of the corridor.
The Lebel revolver was as steady as if it were welded to his hand; as the boat rocked, he adjusted his arm accordingly.
boom! boom! boom!
It has a wonderful sense of rhythm.
The first shot knocked the skull off the burly man.
The second shot struck the "small businessman" in the chest, causing him to cough up blood and collapse to the ground.
The third shot shattered the skull of a lean man.
The rhythm was precise; with each gunshot, an enemy fell, either between the eyebrows or in the heart. His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, rapidly scanned the cabin.
His adjutant, Hans, stood like a moving iron wall in front of Renault.
He carried a Winchester shotgun with its barrel sawed off. In the narrow corridor, this thing was practically the king.
"boom!"
With a deafening roar, steel balls sprayed out in a fan shape, and the two enemies at the forefront fell with screams of agony, their flesh mangled beyond recognition. Several ricochets struck the iron wall, whistling sharply and tearing away chunks of flesh.
Chen Qi leaned against the hatch riddled with bullet holes, his face as white as paper, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold the gun.
An old man brandishing a boning knife rushed forward, making strange, guttural noises. Chen Qi fired two shots with his eyes closed, but both missed. The old man grinned, revealing his black and yellow teeth, and thrust the knife tip straight into Chen Qi's abdomen!
"Lower your head!"
Zhou Xing's voice rang out from the side. Chen Qi subconsciously ducked.
"Bang!"
The Colt fired, and a bullet grazed Chen Qifa's head. The old man groaned, and a bloody hole exploded between his eyebrows.
After firing the shot, Zhou Xing didn't even look at the result. Using the force of the ship swaying to the left, he slid and dodged a bullet that came from the right front.
The bullet struck the pipe where he had just been standing, sending sparks flying, and the ricocheted off somewhere unknown.
He kept moving, seemingly going with the flow, always managing to find the gap between the bullet and the enemy at the last possible moment.
That's not enough.
As he moved, his eyes swept across the entire room, adding a touch of spice to the moment.
A man wielding a machete came from the side, but Zhou Xing seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He ducked to avoid it, then swung his rifle butt and smashed the man in the ribs. The man groaned and fell to the ground.
While firing, Zhou Xing led the battlefield to the room where they had previously engaged in "bedtime activities".
He emptied a magazine, turned to reload, and an enemy rushed out of the next room. Zhou Xing took the opportunity to bump him with his shoulder, and the man stumbled and fell right into the half-open door.
The door opened.
Inside the room, the woman sat at the table, seemingly oblivious to the gunfire and screams outside. She looked at herself in the small mirror in front of her, as if examining her appearance.
The man had a gloomy expression. He picked up a bell from the table, shook it gently, and the bell rang clearly.
"jingle!"
The man who rushed in was stunned, clearly not expecting this scene inside.
Zhou Xing had been waiting for this moment.
He changed his magazine, raised his gun to force another enemy back, but cleverly tripped him, sending him towards the door as well. At the same time, he shouted a mumbled syllable in Nanyang dialect, like a command or a name.
Inside the door, the woman finally turned her head. Her face was covered in exquisite makeup, and she had a smile on her lips, but her eyes were empty and lifeless.
She glanced at the panicked Southeast Asian man at the door, then at the fierce battle outside, and got up to pick up a pair of scissors.
The man who had been leaning against the doorway turned around and saw his companion being forced towards them. He then heard Zhou Xing's mumbled Southeast Asian accent, and saw the strange woman in the room with the scissors in her hand—
"They're the ones who did it!"
With red eyes, he shouted something in the local dialect, then raised his hand and fired a shot into the room!
The bullet struck the woman's shoulder; no blood was drawn, only a plume of grayish-white ash exploded. The woman swayed, her smile unchanged, and walked towards the door.
Zhou Xing glanced inside the door, slipped behind cover, quickly changed to a new magazine, and his breathing became steady.
When he entered, he noticed a corner of a bell on the table that bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Qin's. It belonged to someone from the charity.
That woman doesn't look like a living person.
Human puppet?
That man seemed quite interested.
The charity, according to Yi Guandao, he pointed the murder clues to the charity from the attic. It seems that not only did they not fight, but the two groups of people also got along well.
However, judging from the current situation, it seems that they have only made initial contact and have not yet established any trust relationship.
He fired a shot every now and then, his mind constantly racing.
Renault shot down a knife-wielding man who was trying to ambush Chen Qi. His vertical pupils swept over Zhou Xing's seemingly busy figure, and then glanced at the room from which the bell sound came. A slight glint appeared in the depths of his eyes.
Just then!
"Pfft!" "Pfft!" "Pfft!"
Several more heads were ripped from the necks of the other fallen corpses! They hung in the air, covered in black blood, their eye sockets burning with green flames!
Flying head descends!
at the same time.
"Splash!!!"
The two tightly closed portholes near the waterline shattered with a deafening roar! Muddy river water, carrying a fishy stench, rushed in!
Several dark figures darted into the cabin!
They have cheeks on their faces, their bodies are covered with slippery, dark green scales, their hands and feet are webbed, and their wide mouths are full of fine, sharp teeth, emitting low growls.
Fish head curse!
Flying heads screeched and scurried about in the cramped cabin, searching for prey. The stench grew stronger, and will-o'-the-wisps flickered eerily.
Fish Head Descent was swift and unpredictable, crawling along the wet cabin walls, leaving trails of dark green dotted lines as it headed straight for the search team.
Inside the cabin, the Taoist priests, seeing this, were invigorated and began shouting and yelling.
"Bang!"
Several figures flew out of the "woman puppet" compartment, their bodies covered in blood and unrecognizable. *Whoosh!*
Immediately afterwards, several more severed arms and legs were thrown out.
The female puppet emerged from the door, naked, with blood dripping from the scissors in her hand.
The cabin became incredibly lively.