Wei Curcuma's plan failed to take effect. The special poncho Qingjiang pulled out from nowhere made his sulfuric acid ineffective and could only corrode the ground into darkness.
Without any pause, Wei Curse knew that this was not an occasion that could be saved. This was his last chance to fight back.
Almost at the same time, Wei Curcuma grabbed the canvas bag and threw out the bottle of red liquid.
There was a violent explosion, and thick smoke filled the forest in the early morning. Wei Curcuma actually put nitrate in the two bottles, which was basically the most destructive thing he could get at his level.
If it was not impossible, Wei Curcuma even considered getting some explosives to blow up mountains, or detonating high-risk items such as TNT with detonators, and burying them in the woods in advance to blow up Qingjiang.
There is no way, the pressure of the quasi-C class is so exaggerated, you'd better not treat this level of anomaly suppressor as a human being, but treat him as a main battle tank, or some new type of fighter jet. .
Amidst the smoke of the explosion, a man dressed in black walked out silently, holding a small explosion-proof ceramic shield in his hand to protect his most vulnerable face, while the rest of his body was unscathed.
Qingjiang's eyes that had been squinting opened slightly at this moment, and the emotionless green vertical pupils made him feel a bit more strange out of thin air. He walked through the smoke unscathed in such a violent explosion. It really looked like something. The great monster in myths and legends.
The outermost layer of the ceramic shield in his hand had been completely exploded. He didn't take a second look at it, but just threw the broken bulletproof shield to the ground.
Wei Curcuma was already ready to attack. He rushed towards Qingjiang as soon as he appeared. He hit Qingjiang hard with the long-charged fist in his hand, trying to use the opportunity just after the explosion to cause him some damage.
Qing Jiang flicked his finger, and a piece of unknown gel flew straight towards Wei Curcuma, causing a small but violent explosion on his body.
It was a piece of gel explosive that had just been prepared, and the amount of explosion was controlled just right. It could blast through the steel plate, but it would not kill Wei Curcuma, and would only make him lose his ability to resist.
"Is this the twenty-ninth time?"
Qingjiang murmured to himself, looking at Wei Curcuma who was suddenly blown up by the impact of the explosion with his feet dangling in the air, and gently shook his head. The latter could obviously fight again.
"Maybe I need to adjust the soul pressure of the structure to make my method more completely liberating."
He silently stretched out the five fingers of his right hand. Only now could people realize that his dagger was not hidden on his body, but was constructed using soul pressure in his palm.
Wei Curcuma was thrown upside down by the unexpected violent explosion, with black smoke all over his body, and he fell heavily to the ground. His exposed skin was scorched black, and he closed his eyes and did not know whether he was alive or dead.
But when Qing Jiang approached him, Wei Curcuma suddenly opened his eyes, reached out and hooked his old canvas second-hand bag, and the bottles and cans inside flew out together. Trying to cause a little damage to him, create a little "accident".
Qingjiang's sword is extremely fast, so he is also waiting for this opportunity.
But Wei Zeshu's prediction may not be successful. All of this is obviously within Qingjiang's expectation. This little cleverness may not even be considered a novelty in his rich assassination experience, let alone an accident.
The trapped beast was still fighting, so Qingjiang was always on high alert. The dagger in his hand cut through an elegant arc, directly cutting off the canvas bag Wei Curcuma had been using, causing most of the bottles and jars inside to be thrown powerlessly. It fell to the ground and had no effect at all.
At the same time as this action was completed, Qingjiang's fingers moved slightly, and the dagger naturally reversed, and the back of the knife struck hard on Wei Curcuma's Adam's apple lying on the ground. Just like Qingjiang's first assassination attempt on him, it was simple and effective. It's just that the strength is several times what it was at the beginning.
"Twenty-nine times."
It was only at this moment that he said the first words in this round of battle. He opened his emerald green pupils, like a snake staring at its prey, looking at Wei Curcuma under him without emotion.
But everything happened too fast.
Wei Curcuma did not faint this time. On the contrary, he used his will to withstand the severe pain and allowed the blood vessels in his throat to burst and blood to pour into his respiratory tract.
He didn't pass out!
The bright red blood mixed with the air, and pink blood foam overflowed from the corner of Wei Curcuma's mouth, and a wave of soul pressure that he had never felt before suddenly erupted from his body.
Qingjiang instinctively retreated quickly, but it was still too late.
Everything happened so fast.
A pitch black short knife appeared out of thin air in Wei Curcuma's hand!
This is a pitch-black, extremely small short knife, only a few centimeters long, with an extremely thin blade, and the edge shows extremely unstable fluctuations and collapses.
But it is not some kind of weapon, but is "constructed out of thin air"!
Wei Curcuma used the soul pressure he didn't know existed to construct such a small knife, even though it was extremely small, extremely thin, and extremely unstable, as if it would collapse on its own in the next second.
This was his real breakthrough, and it was also the [accident] he used to break the situation and gain a glimmer of [opportunity].
Yes, this is a knife constructed with soul pressure.
But is this enough?
It was indeed enough to surprise Qing Jiang. Wei Curcuma, who had no soul pressure in his body, was able to construct weapons, but was this enough?
As early as the moment before Wei Curcuma fainted, Qingjiang had already retreated quickly, and now he had retreated more than ten meters.
The distance between the two is ten meters, and how long is the blade of this knife? Five centimeters? Besides, what can an extremely thin, extremely unstable knife do in the face of a powerful body strengthened by quasi-C level soul pressure?
Wei Curcuma didn't say anything, he just held the black knife that was on the verge of collapse and used all his strength to slash vertically towards Qingjiang who was retreating quickly.
This inherently unstable black knife turned into black dust in an instant with such a slashing action, swaying upwards in the wind, and drifting into the air from Wei Curcuma's weak fingers.
An extremely thin, extremely fast, extremely sharp, extremely pure soul pressure passed over Qing Jiang's cheek at an unimaginable speed.
Behind him, a big tree ten meters away was cut open silently. The huge trunk fell like a dead giant, and with an earth-shattering sound, dust floated up.
A drop of blood seeped out slowly from Qingjiang's cheek, from his fair skin, and condensed into a round blood drop, dripping to the ground.
