Chapter 38: Taking life from the air

The two guys were hit hard by the door panel. They couldn't even stand still after taking a few steps back, and sat down on the ground.

Several other people near the door were startled and quickly took a few steps back. Some went to help the two people, while others stretched their necks to observe the situation.

I took the opportunity to step forward, closed the door with my backhand, and glanced left and right to see clearly what was going on in the courtyard.

There were people outside the doors of the three rooms.

Wearing a cotton coat, a woolen hat, and a cotton mask, he was carrying a foot-long knife in his hand.

This kind of dressing up is obviously to prevent exposure.

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

You can't see the face or body shape, and the energy is impressive. Once I see it once, I can't hide it no matter how hard I try.

For example, although the two guys who came last night were dressed exactly the same and were not very tall, I still recognized them at a glance. They were both standing at the front. Apparently they were stepping in last night and leading the way today.

I took a cigarette and threw it into my mouth. I just held it in my mouth without lighting it and asked, "How can we get along with each other and smash the kiln in public without checking our household registration first?"

All the people in the yard gathered around, looked at each other, didn't say anything to each other, and rushed towards me with their knives raised.

There was no courageous shouting, just a dull charge. They were obviously veterans of killing people.

I smiled, took out the paper figurine, put it in front of the cigarette butt, and shook it gently.

The paper man burst into flames.

The cigarette was lit.

Last night, the two guys stopped suddenly, threw the knife, scratched all over their bodies, and kept screaming.

Thick, burnt-smelling smoke billowed from inside the coat.

This turn of events frightened everyone, and they all stopped and looked at the two guys at a loss.

The two screamed heartbreakingly, took off their coats, and then tore off their underwear.

Both of them had large areas of burn marks on their skin.

The skin was charred and the flesh was rotten, there were sparks, and smoke was rising.

The burn marks expanded 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 bodies of charcoal, and when they moved, their bodies fell off, revealing the bright red flesh and blood underneath, which was then burned into charcoal.

The layers were burned away like this, and in just over a minute, the two of them turned into two piles of blackened charcoal residue.

This scene was so tragic and horrifying that all the cotton coats in the yard retreated and gathered into a group, not daring to rush forward.

But I didn’t underestimate them either.

In the face of this kind of method, it is already remarkable that he could not be frightened and run away on the spot.

This shows that this group of people is not a temporary team, but a stable group, and the boss's prestige is high enough and he is currently in the team.

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

The smoke rushed straight forward, like a sharp arrow, flying three meters away, spreading above the two piles of black charcoal residue, turning into a ball of light white gas, slowly spreading and seeping into the group of people.

"Take these two back and tell you, Immortal Master, that since you are making a paper man to get your life, you have to do it to the end, and you can't just do it halfway to show off. Once the paper man is out, you must have your life to get it back."

There are no warlocks among these people, they are just ordinary thugs.

This makes me a little suspicious.

Selecting spirits from the ashes and seeking lives from paper figures are all methods of a serious warlock.

But when it came time to beg for his life, he actually sent a group of thugs to kill people. It was just like a joke.

As for using these thugs to perform tricks, judging from the performance just now, it shouldn't be the case.

The methods of charlatan sorcerers are all kinds of strange and dangerous, but none of them can really kill people from a distance. At the very least, they have to obtain the target's birth date, unwashed underwear, and secretly harvested hair and blood skin before they can use their methods.

When I first came to Jincheng, I had no legs. It was a disadvantage in terms of making a name for myself and joining the circle, but it was an advantage in terms of fighting skills. If I couldn’t find my legs, I couldn’t use many methods. It would be useless to pick off my clothes. It would be easier to just cut me.

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

There's something weird in this!

After a brief silence, several people came forward and picked up the two piles of cinders with their cotton coats that had fallen to the ground.

Then everyone retreated silently into the darkness.

I put out the cigarette in my hand, turned around and went back to the house. I took the cotton coat of the same style that I had prepared in advance and put it on my body. I turned out from the back door and walked to the road in front of the yard under the cover of darkness. I took advantage of the smell left by the smoke. , it was easy to find the two people huddled in a dark corner watching from behind, and patted one of them on the shoulder from behind.

They both looked back at me at the same time.

I waved at them.

They stood up and left in a daze.

I followed behind in silence. After leaving Dahe Village, I walked along the road for a while. There was a van parked on the side of the road. I went over to open the door and get in.

There were already several people in the car, and when three more people got on, it was as crowded as a can, but no one had any doubts about the extra person.

As soon as Fang sat firmly, the car started and hit the road.

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

This seemed to turn on some kind of switch, and everyone became alive. They exhaled and stretched their waists, exhaling smoke and passing fire to each other. I also got a piece and lit it with the help of the fire.

But no one said anything.

The car drove straight for nearly an hour before stopping.

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

In front of the factory, there were many dismantled tractors and harvesters. It looked like a small agricultural machinery factory.

In addition to the one I sat in, there were two other bread trucks in the yard.

Everyone who got off the car entered the factory in silence.

The factory is not big, with five rusty old lathes, which look like they have been abandoned.

Everyone who had just been to my place was in the factory.

Some were squatting in the corner, or sitting on the machine tool, or leaning against the wall. All of them had pale faces, and they were all smoking silently, occasionally raising their hands to make gestures.

I couldn't help but wonder.

No wonder he never said a word.

They are all mute!

I just don’t know whether they were chosen as thugs because they were mute, or whether they were chosen as thugs and became mute.

No matter what, what I caught is definitely a big fish!

Squatting on a lathe in the center of the factory was a particularly stout man, short in stature, with a full beard, and wearing a large, tattered cotton-padded jacket. Although he was only squatting still, he had the power of a tiger. The evil intention is about to come out.

This person also went there just now.

At first, he stood at the back of the crowd. After the two guys were burned to death out of thin air, he blended into the crowd and remained inconspicuous.

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

I found a corner to stand against, smoking silently, and waiting patiently.

About half an hour later, the sound of a car was heard outside.

After a while, a man strode in.

This man was only in his early twenties, with fair skin and tender skin, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, and slicked-back hair. He wore a crisp suit underneath and a crisp woolen coat outside. From top to bottom, from top to bottom, It exudes the atmosphere of the second generation of a wealthy family from the inside out.

As soon as he walked in, all the mutes in the factory stood up with a roar, all looking embarrassed and fearful.

The tiger-like bearded man also hurriedly put out the cigarette in his hand, trotted up to meet him, bowed respectfully, and then waved his rough hands in gestures.

The second-generation ancestor looked at it, sneered, raised his hand and slapped the bearded face.

It didn't look like there was much force, and it didn't even make a loud sound, but when this slap was struck, the bearded face immediately swelled up into a huge bruise!

I couldn't help but squint my eyes.

This slap is a bit interesting!