Chapter 442 Masked Zheng Hang? ! !
In the reflection of the mirror, the outlines of the facial features gradually emerged, and every line exuded an indescribable eeriness.
The eye sockets were so sunken that it was impossible to tell what kind of monster it was. One could only vaguely see that there was not a trace of white in its eyes, only dead black, like two solidified eternal nights, swallowing up all hope and light.
Then, the asphalt black liquid continued to surge vertically and spread upwards, like slime from the abyss.
The black liquid gradually accumulated and bulged, slowly outlining a straight shoulder line and slender sleeves, and finally condensed into a pitch-black... suit? The lines of the suit gradually became clear in the mirror, and every stitch and thread seemed to be woven by darkness, revealing an evil and charming elegance.
Luo Ji was stunned for a moment and almost suspected that he was seeing things.
His fingers trembled slightly and the mirror almost slipped from his palm.
However, the picture was reflected clearly in the mirror, leaving no room for doubt.
Then, he saw the suit bulging silently, and the fabric seemed to have its own consciousness, constantly wriggling and stretching, as if a person was being squeezed out of the suit bit by bit.
First the broad shoulders, then the long torso, and finally the straight legs.
The whole process was eerily quiet, with no "dripping" sound of flowing liquid, because that was just a visual effect and was actually just a shadow.
But from the moment the shadow is born, there is no sound.
This is a satanic sacrifice, but it is also science.
This is a monster, but it is also humanoid! Cuicui felt her throat was dry as if it had been burned by fire, and she was completely stunned.
She stretched out her hand tremblingly, her fingertips pointing directly at the slowly rising strange outline behind Zuo Bai, her voice filled with uncontrollable fear: "Another... another monster! The fourth monster?!!"
One, one, and another, it's endless, right? What does it mean? Is the sewer the home of monsters?
Zhang Liyu stared straight at him, feeling an extremely ominous premonition in her heart. She shifted her gaze from behind Zuo Bai and stared at Feng Yuhuai.
Her heart sank.
The deep despair and fear on Feng Yuhuai's face had dissipated like the receding tide, and was replaced by a kind of...
It was a complex emotion that she had never seen before and could not be accurately described in words.
In that kind of emotion, there is less fear and more anger, and there is even a hint of hope to see the light?
A thought suddenly came to Zhang Liyu's mind: "Feng Yuhuai seems to know the monster that came out last? Could this monster be..."
Before her thoughts could fully unfold, the scene before her confirmed her uneasiness.
The humanoid monster emerging from the shadow suddenly had its hand deformed and twisted strangely, and in the blink of an eye it turned into a sharp black dagger with a cold light on the blade.
The dagger was like a flash of black lightning, stabbing straight into Zuo Bai's back.
Its movements were so fast beyond imagination that it was almost impossible to see its trajectory, and there was not even a sound of air being moved in the surrounding air, as if this fatal blow came from another silent dimension.
All this may sound like a long process, but in reality, it only took a fleeting moment from the emergence of the eerie smiling face in the shadow, to the monster's bulge condensing into a humanoid outline, to the swinging of the knife and stabbing in the back.
Time seemed to be infinitely compressed at this moment, and a series of actions were completed.
From Zuo Bai's perspective, he just stood there, turning around and back again, his brain still working fast, trying to figure out what was unscientific about all this.
However, before he could come up with an answer, a bloody black knife emerged from his chest.
The blade was as black as ink, but it was stained with bright red blood. The blood gushed out, instantly staining his clothes red.
The blood dripped along the tip of the knife, splashing tiny ripples in the dirty water.
Until this moment, Zuo Bai had not even heard the slightest sound. Even when his chest was pierced by the black knife, he did not hear the sound of flesh being cut.
Everything was eerily quiet.
Zuo Bai's pupils suddenly contracted, and a hint of disbelief flashed in his eyes behind the lenses.
He slowly lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the black knife pressing against his chest.
On the tip of the knife, a piece of bright red meat was about to fall off.
With his advanced scientific literacy and profound knowledge of human anatomy, Zuo Bai immediately recognized that the piece of meat should belong to his left atrial valve.
Zuo Bai's gaze slowly swept across the cold and sharp blade, as if passing through layers of fog, and finally landed on the rippling sewage stained red with blood under his feet.
At this moment, an excited smile of solving a mystery suddenly broke out on his face. Against the bloody backdrop, that smile looked both crazy and charming.
"I see. It came out from the shadow under my feet!"
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Zuo Bai stepped forward and pulled out the black knife along his chest. The spurting blood dyed his white clothes even brighter, like a blooming blood flower.
His movements were calm and deliberate, as if he felt no pain at all.
At the same time, he turned his head to look behind him. This time, he did not turn around, but only turned his neck, so the shadow remained behind him.
And above that long and narrow shadow, there stood a person.
The man was wearing a black, ironed suit that was so exquisitely tailored that it looked as if it was tailor-made. There were a few playing cards in his chest pocket, with faint patterns visible on the cards.
He had a thin cape on his back, which swayed slightly in the wind. On his cold face, he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and his pupils behind the lenses were a terrifying black.
One of his hands hung naturally, while the other hand strangely transformed into a pitch-black knife with bright red blood on the blade.
“It’s you!”
Zuo Bai raised the corner of his mouth slightly with a playful smile. He slowly stretched out his hand and gently wiped the blood from his chest.
The moment his nails came into contact with the blood, they melted away silently, turning into a pool of gleaming silver liquid.
But in the blink of an eye, the silver liquid filled the open knife edge, drawing a tattoo shape exactly the same as the one on Feng Yuhuai's face.
The lock pattern of the gods can not only lock the erosion of evil sacrifices, but also lock the spread of death.
There was no trace of anger on Zuo Bai's face for being ambushed. Instead, he looked extremely happy, as if the person behind him was an old friend he had met after a long absence.
Zuo Bai narrowed his eyes slightly and said with a smile:
"My original plan was to capture Feng Yuhuai and then lure you to my house. I didn't expect you to help me skip this step and show up directly. This is really a pleasant surprise!"
Zuo Bai paused for a moment, and said in a very polite and cultured tone:
"So, should I call you [Mask], or should I call you... Zheng Hang?"
(End of this chapter)
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