Chapter 284

In the display interface of the system.

The infection rate of the whole block is just a cruel data lacking emotion.

But only standing here.

Will really understand that every rise in the infection rate means a human tragedy.

Broken families.

Dead relatives.

An orphan crying out his parents' names.

Perhaps, because of the dispute between ideas and thoughts, there is justice and evil in the war between mankind.

But the war between ethnic groups.

Only life and death.

All the tragedies in this street area were personally caused by the elite of the upper class and politicians who boast of deeply cultivating the art of compromise.

In the eyes of some people above, for the sake of interests and evil desires, the lives of the Dalits at the bottom are their chips to achieve their goals.

Death or life means nothing to them.

A group of evil animals like vampires!

Kick off the coming reapers.

Cole said indifferently to Alaric, "don't fall behind."

Holding two children.

The young SWAT breathed quickly, and the reapers crowded out of the alley, so that he could feel the deepest despair in the world every second, enveloping his soul.

later.

In his vision.

Cole with a gun and a knife.

Just like the superb warrior in the movie, it is even more gorgeous and deadly than the legendary blade.

Every silver bullet that hits the barrel.

There will be a burning wreck scattered on the ground.

The long knife with scarlet tail flame passing through the air is like a butcher's knife for slaughtering livestock, cutting off the chest and breaking the heart.

In the shrill scream of the reaper.

Create one body after another.

In Alaric's exclamation, Cole took back the justice trial that had been empty, and squeezed the back of the Reaper who tried to bite the young SWAT with his left hand.

The scarlet queen popped up.

Through the skull.

Cut half its head obliquely.

The foul smelling pale yellow blood splashed on Alaric's face and the little boy's face.

The residual light sweeps through the system field of view.

Thirteen minutes to the end of the countdown.

The infection rate has exceeded 20%.

Even, he could not count how many harvesters he had killed, only the burning debris everywhere, like a city after a fire, piled up thick in the streets.

But in the field of vision.

The still huge number of reapers seemed never to be killed. They climbed on the wall, crowded together, or jumped on the top of the car, roared and were ready to move in front of him.

Like a walking corpse in an American drama, Rick Grimes was blocked on the roof and a dense group of zombies.

Take a deep breath.

Cole's face was stained with the stench of reaper blood and said coldly, "special police, get ready, we're going to break through."

This time.

An old truck loaded with fluorescent lights suddenly turned the corner, and the sound of the engine was deafening.

The old hunter Whistler, who should have set up a gun at a high place, put his head out of the window and shouted, "taste daddy's big baby! You little bastards!"

The voice fell.

All high-power fluorescent lamps are turned on.

At the same time.

Another ultraviolet grenade was thrown out of the window by him.

In the dazzling light.

A large number of reapers, like winter withered grass ignited by fire, turn into large pieces of burnt debris in the chaotic and shrill scream!

Parked the truck in front of them, the red necked old man smiled and said, "can I help you? Two."

The special police hurried over and put the two children in the co pilot's seat.

Glancing at Cole, he turned over and jumped into the truck's container.

Cole patted the door and said coldly, "Whistler, you take them out of here. I'll clean up the remaining reapers."

The old hunter smiled, "I knew you would say that. Take this."

He threw an ammunition bag containing three ultraviolet grenades to Cole, and then said, "time is limited. I, an old bone, can only make so much.

It must be helpful to take it. "

Turn on the car audio.

Old school hard core rock music suddenly sounded, Whistler stepped on the accelerator, turned the car and sped away in the distance.

When he leaves.

The reapers who were lucky not to be killed by ultraviolet grenades and high-power fluorescent lamps showed their dirty and ugly faces from the darkness after the old hunters drove away.

Until I saw Cole standing alone in the middle of the road.

Throw a long knife.

Previously, due to the constraints of Alaric and two children, the room left for him to play was really limited.

We have to break through and ensure their safety.

Now?

With the help of the experienced old hunter, Cole can finally free up his hand and make a general ledger with these smelly beasts.

Move your cervical spine.

Make a fist with your left hand and release it.

Standing in the piles of burned debris and undead reapers, he lit a cigarette.

Take a deep breath, look up, look at the harvester again, and say coldly, "next, it's my turn, son of a bitch."

The voice fell.

Like the horn of attack.

The longer he is greedy for Cole's blood and gives up eating, the more difficult it is for the Reaper to control his blood addiction. Like a huge force, he suppresses all their senses and frantically wants to overthrow the man and drain every drop of his sweet blood.

The whistling ended.

Cole spits out his cigarette.

The whole block seemed to enter bullet time at this moment.

The long knife violence ran through the heart of the Reaper who rushed over, freed his left hand and held the neck of the other reaper. The scarlet queen popped up in an instant and fell rapidly along her throat.

Open the clavicle.

Cut off the chest ribs.

Until it retracts again, and then it pops out angrily, penetrating the heart and bones.

Two piles of burnt debris fell to the ground.

Left in this block, only about 100 reapers swarmed in, opening their ferocious and disgusting mouthparts like face worms.

Cole is a ghost.

The superb skills of gun fighting are still gorgeous and deadly even in the battle process of lacking ammunition and using cold weapons.

The pendulum of the windbreaker shook constantly under the dim street lamp.

The splash of pale yellow blood, intertwined with the scarlet blood flame, constitutes the hell of death.

Broken limbs flying around.

The severed Reaper's head, with no sign of death, was kicked around on the ground like a leather ball.

Like a dancer with deep skills.

Like a grumpy bloody butcher.

When the last Reaper fell in the blood flame and burned up the debris.

The troops who came to support finally came late under the dazzling light.

meanwhile.

The cold system prompt sounded in Cole's ear.

"The fourth phase of the main task has been completed."

"With blood and death, you swear to the world that the man who used to be, the fireknife butcher, is back!"

"Award: ultraviolet nuclear flashlight."