Owen, whose hair was combed and shiny, once again walked to the gate of the castle in a gentlemanly manner.
He looked at Song Qingwen reservedly, with the smile on his face as elegant as ever.
"Welcome to the castle. It has everything you want. But if you want to enter the castle, you only need to pay a small price."
"Hand over anything you think is precious, and you can get a night's rest in the castle. Food, wine, beauty, luxurious enjoyment, and enjoyable entertainment..."
Before Owen finished speaking, he saw Song Qingwen completely ignoring him and walking straight inside.
I had no interest in talking to him, and no thought of paying any admission fee.
Owen dodged and stood in front of Song Qingwen. The smile on his face faded and became solemn and serious.
"This...guest! Please obey the rules."
Although Song Qingwen didn't seem tall enough now, he still seemed to be looking at Owen through his nostrils, with a cold expression and indifferent eyes: "Your rules have nothing to do with me?"
Owen was stunned.
The next moment, a strong wind suddenly struck towards Owen.
Owen hid.
His speed was very fast, but his retreat direction was accurately predicted by Song Qingwen.
Therefore, the picture presented to the naked eye is that Irving directly hit Song Qingwen's blow.
Then the wind knife transformed by Li Feng cut through it and split it into two halves. The wind compressed into a thin piece has a sharpness far beyond that of an ordinary sword.
Owen, who was lying in a pool of blood, stared at Song Qingwen fiercely with eyes like a ghost, half-opening his mouth like a fish on the beach, but still insisted: "You dare to make trouble? You dare to make trouble here? You will go to hell. Yes! You will be cursed, you violated the messenger of God, you..."
The words stopped abruptly.
Because Song Qingwen had casually stomped on his head, blocking Owen's last words from him.
Even the last words and the last cruel words should not be said.
The title of Headshot Demon Lord did not come for nothing.
Although long-range headshots are Song Qingwen's regular method, close-range headshots are equally sharp and decisive.
The reason why Song Qingwen likes headshots is because they are so clean and neat.
There are thousands of monsters in the world, and most of them will die from headshots.
"Messenger of God? Tell him to come out and let me see!" Song Qingwen pushed open the door of the castle, then stepped in with blood on his feet and followed the ups and downs of the music.
Behind him, the 'white swans' on the left and right sides were still dignified and elegant, holding their skirts with their hands spread wide.
Just like in the beginning, even the blood on the floor and the tragic death of Owen did not cause any changes in their emotions.
In the hall on the first floor, the statue of the goddess seemed to be staring at Song Qingwen coldly.
The smell of perfume filled the hall, stubbornly trying to dispel the smell of blood on Song Qingwen's body.
The sound of the cello stopped.
Rapid, manic piano sound came from the concert hall on the second floor.
Some big black men in black clothes and faces, armed with various hot weapons, poured out from the corridors and corners, surrounding Song Qingwen.
There are also many black people waiting to ambush at windows, doorways, and in every corner and blind spot.
A dead end seemed to have unfolded around Song Qingwen.
Although he has obtained the power of the Demon Sealer and has become an extraordinary person in this world.
But the energy level itself is not high, and the upper limit of the extraordinary path of Demon Sealer is still just like this.
If a large number of hotshots are concentrated and fired, they can still be killed.
"Have you heard the sound of the wind roaring in the chest?" Song Qingwen asked these black men.
Song Qingwen raised his hands above his head, as if making a gesture of surrender.
These black men have long been deprived of their emotions and have become a group of puppets without self-awareness and desires. Faced with Song Qingwen's questions, they have no ability to give any answers.
Their thinking is limited to the last moment when they are deprived of the last emotion, and they are unable to answer questions beyond their personal abilities.
However, in the next moment, they gave the answer with their bodies.
When they breathe, air enters their lungs.
And the air, under Song Qingwen's control, stirred up a small storm in their chests.
Snapped! Snapped! Snapped···!
The chests of the big black men burst one after another.
Out-of-control gunshots started shooting randomly in the lobby on the first floor.
Song Qingwen, however, based on the information sent back by the wind in advance, dodged the bullets and allowed them to pass by without causing any damage.
Controlling the air that the human body breathes requires not a strong energy push, but extremely subtle control.
And Song Qingwen had such control.
Ke Xiaoliang from God's perspective has learned another skill.
"Control, control every bit of power, then even a relatively small power can have unparalleled effects. Just like a small fire, thrown into water, it will be quickly annihilated, thrown into A dry forest can turn into a mountain fire that seems to destroy the world." Ke Xiaoliang said with emotion.
The big black men around him burst their chests and died one after another. Song Qingwen walked past them lightly and climbed up the stairs to the second floor.
The first floor was now full of corpses and bullet casings.
But on the second floor, the singing and dancing were still peaceful and peaceful.
The blond singer stood on the stage and sang enthusiastically.
The passionate dancers are all dancing with flying steps.
Under the flickering lights, the rough palms of the gentlemen reached into the girl's delicate and soft thighs. The torn off red plum stickers were left on the smooth floor, allowing anyone to trample on them.
There is a smell of depravity and extravagance everywhere.
The noisy hormones and restless atmosphere make everyone forget the troubles of life.
Song Qingwen walked through the crowd casually, like a ghost.
Those impetuous and intoxicating things are just ordinary in his eyes.
If you have seen the dance of the devil by the Tianmei sergeant of the Tianmo Sect, the flying sleeves under the moon of the beautiful girl in the mirror of Lingci Temple, or the enchanting smile of the Qingqiu or Tushan fox demon, then, then They will become disdainful of these flashy, boring, single and superficial things.
Passed through these so-called extravagant scenes.
Ignoring the abundance of delicacies, drinks and delicacies.
Those twisting slender waists, swaying plump hips, and swaying white peaks all turned into white bones and skeletons before his eyes.
Song Qingwen got through this formation and even ignored some obsessed and crazy Demon Sect disciples in the formation.
He is not here to save people.
He's just interested.
Explore the castle and discover the secrets behind it.
It's much more interesting than rescuing people.
There is no irreplaceable disciple, no matter how many times he dies... Song Qingwen will not feel the slightest bit sorry for him.
What's more, death in another world is not real death.
The casino on the third floor has been cleared of all its original gamblers.
A middle-aged man wearing a black coat, with his hair combed into a bun and a beard, was waiting there.
In his hand was a deck of cards, a color clock, and a simple revolver.
"Do you have the courage to take a gamble?" The middle-aged man invited Song Qingwen.
