Several agents with only half their bodies left let out vague and painful groans, crawling and struggling unconsciously on the ground, like earthworms about to be sunburned to death on the cobblestones.
The carbonized flesh and blood at the cross section were even giving off little sparks of fire - the pieces of flesh burned by the flames not only stopped the bleeding, but also prolonged their pain.
Beside these miserable agents, several believers of the Nirvana Order were collecting trophies. They seemed to enjoy the sound of dying and the pleasure of torturing their enemies.
How could the Nirvana Order cause such huge casualties to the central team? In addition to being angry, Ed was also surprised.
The Central Team is the most reliable trump card of the Divine Adjustment Bureau in Silver Mist City. In addition to sophisticated equipment and long-term selection training, these carefully selected agents have reliable identities and stable minds. They can be said to be an elite force among investigators.
What's more, the captain of the central team, Ms. Olivia, is not only a third-level extraordinary, but also a dual secret text user. Elder Issyk was also a third-level Beyonder. Why did the central team suffer so many casualties?
Could it be that the information given by Holander was wrong...?
"who?"
The roar of the engine of the dragoon armor attracted the attention of the believers, and one of them walked quickly towards the T-shaped passage where they were hiding. At this time, it was too late to exit the passage, and the terrain was inconvenient for follow-up troops to deploy, so the frontal attack was somewhat passive.
"Fuck." Anvil cursed in a low voice and raised the hammer.
"Wait..." Ed held Quinn's shoulders and whispered, "Let me go out first."
"Hey, don't shoot, I'm just an underground businessman doing business. I can pay the toll..." he replied in a timid voice.
In this operation, Ed did not wear the standard black clothes of the Bureau of Investigation, but the regular clothes that Arthur left for him, so he looked the same.
"Come out." The other party ordered.
Ed raised his hands, slowly leaned out half of his body, and finally walked out of the shadows:
"Why bother? This is the product of the Woodcutter and Fishing Gang, and it won't do you any good if you take it. Why don't you let me go, and I'll give you something to express my gratitude? Do you want to enjoy it? I'm all high-level people here. Goods, blood honey, opium paste, and good aphrodisiacs..." he said with a flattering smile.
"What's that noise behind you?"
"That's my steam mule. A transmission, kind of like a new kind of handcart, that can carry more cargo and pull with less effort."
Ed knew that the nostalgists would never be able to expose his lies in this regard, so he blatantly lied about it.
"Bring it out and show it to me."
"Okay, it's all up to you." Ed smiled and reached into the shadows, pretending to pull Anvil's arm. The anvil was naturally motionless, and the metal mask stared at him, as if trying to poke his eyes out.
"Hum... hum, move! Damn that rotten thing!" He kicked the anvil's steel kneepad, making a muffled thud. "It seems there's something wrong. Sorry, please wait a moment... …”
"Ah……"
A cold chuckle came from under the burqa. The man finally had enough of Ed's antics and walked towards him, his palms glowing with a faint red light. Several other people followed closely.
"What's that smell? Are you grilling meat?" Ed sniffed and looked sideways into the darkness in the distance, his face full of confusion.
"Yes, we are having a barbecue..."
He moved closer to Ed step by step, as if he was teasing his prey:
"Now it's your turn!"
The heretic suddenly grabbed his burning palm towards Ed. However, what was waiting for him was a hammer falling from the sky.
The huge force directly smashed the head wrapped in the hood to the floor, turning it into a puddle of flesh with blood splattering everywhere.
"No barbecue, enough meatloaf." The anvil vibrated the hammer handle and shook off the blood, and a cruel and strange laugh broke out in the helmet.
Ed drew his gun and fired almost at the same time as Quinn, and the one-eyed spider determined the enemy's position in the dark for him.
The muzzle arc of fire spurted out, and bullets poured out. The Nirvana Order's commoners themselves had no protective capabilities, and suddenly another enemy was shot and fell to the ground.
Seeing that there was nowhere to hide in the darkness, another female believer pulled out her long sword from its sheath, waving the blade and making flames shoot into the sky. Her skills are as fast as the wind, and even the narrow tunnel cannot prevent her from ducking and moving, avoiding bullets and quickly approaching the assault team.
At the same time, a cluster fire bomb was fired from a distance. Anvil swung the hammer, stepped forward, and intercepted it in mid-air like hitting a baseball.
There was only a loud noise, and the fire bombs turned into thousands of sparks, falling on the dragoon's armor, making a terrifying crackling sound, but causing no actual damage.
The sword-wielding believer was already in front of him. At this time, both Ed and Quinn's bullets had been cleared, and the anvil was not yet stable. Mr. Kraken's shotgun exploded with a roar, and the lead shot spattered a cloud of blood mist on the flesh and blood body. The butterfly-wing folding knife flew into the door, killing the female swordsman.
The pagans who released fire bombs in the distance saw that the situation was not good, turned around and fled.
Quinn pulled out the butterfly-wing folding knife from the corpse and was about to give chase. The pagan who was shot and fell to the ground in front suddenly rose up, murmuring in his mouth, and his body suddenly ignited with raging fire, and he was about to collide with Quinn.
Suddenly, a suction cup tentacle as thick as an arm stretched out from the pool of blood on the ground, hooked the believer's waist, and dragged him back to the original place. It must have been the work of a sea monster.
Accompanied by an inhuman roar, the wounded believer's body opened up like a cicada, and brilliant satin-like flames rolled in all directions. Quinn had already stopped abruptly, leaned over and slid the shovel, avoiding most of the impact of the flames.
However, the heretics who cast the spell have fled further and further away...
"Hiss--" The stranger inserted an atomizer into the slot of the mask, and the purple dreamy gas was deeply inhaled into his lungs, like a smoker addicted to tobacco.
Then, in a crazy gesture, he raised his sickle-shaped machete and ran forward. The speed was dazzling, even surpassing Quinn's, like an arrow leaving the string.
In the one-eyed spider's vision, Ed saw him catching up with the fleeing infidel like a cheetah. A broken leg flew into the air, and the opponent fell to the ground, followed by the arm protecting him, and finally the head with pointed elf ears.
After completing this crazy massacre, Stranger's body couldn't help but convulse. There was a subtle rustling sound coming from the one-eyed spider, and there were constant complaints under the bandaged body, like a dozen mouths howling in pain.
By the time Ed went over to help him, the Stranger had already stood up again. He remained silent, as if what just happened had never happened.
"Did you see what I did just now? That head with pointed ears is like a watermelon..."
Anvil was about to start boasting, but Ed put away the one-eyed spider and interrupted him:
"Wait a minute, Elder Issyk should not be among these people. Before he arrives, we have to take these wounded back to join the team. Maybe Dr. Rowan can save their lives."
Even if these people are lucky enough to survive, the rest of their lives may be more painful than death.
Ed didn't know if this was the right decision, but at least it wasn't time to give up hope yet.
"Wait, look..."
The sea monster's voice was a little frightened. This was the first time he spoke in such a tone.
At the end of the deep passage, a red eyeball was staring at everyone. The pupils in the eyes were twin, showing a strange hourglass shape.
Just by looking at him, he felt that his soul was being burned by the flames, being dragged into it and unable to escape.
In the depths of the flames in the pupils, the figure slowly walked from the void, transcending the thorny wall between the environment and reality. Under the purple robe covered in flames, old mummy-like hands held a huge threaded sword, and the flames were like the coming of doom.
