Chapter 30:

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Ji Zheng was facing the masked man in black and could see it clearly.

When the man realized that the person in Ming Ci Yue's arms was him, his face seemed to be stiff, and even his movements were obviously hesitant for a moment.

But Ming Ci won't stop because he stopped at all, and without giving him a chance to fight back, he turned his hand to break the sharp weapon, and stabbed the man's shoulder with the jagged thorns at the break!

The man reluctantly avoided, and took three or five steps back in embarrassment.

The disparity in strength was too great, Ming Ci caught up with each step, and the next stab went straight to the left chest cavity.

Ji Zheng stood on the spot, dazedly beside the battle. No, not a fight at all, it's almost a one-sided slaughter.

Ming Ci Yue was originally the long gun **** of war in the Western Desert, and the **** with a red shadow was the stunt of the Ming family, and this slender and unknown thing was even in line with his habit, and it was handy to use.

The neck socket, eye socket, abdomen, every blow goes straight to the soft part of the human body, merciless, sharp and cruel, the method can never be called bright and upright, it is just a prairie wolf with fierce eyes, dripping blood fangs.

Ji Zheng is just a sick child who has been lying in a modern civilized society for more than ten years. He has never seen a battlefield, and has never held anyone's life. He has never had the opportunity to touch such a simple and direct aesthetics of violence.

Moreover, the other party is still eloquent, and his gorgeous face is still indifferent, which is no different from the expression when he kneels and salutes in front of him every day, but his subordinates are venomous.

Such a contrast made Ji Zheng shuddered suddenly, so... the more the clear words on the battlefield are like this, and everyone on the battlefield is like this.

He once described that the more gentle and restrained Mingci was, the gentleman's sword that was in the scabbard, and now he felt at a loss that he was wrong.

The more you use Ming Ci, the more you use the sword, the more you use the sword. He has no scabbard for the sword, no tricks for the sword, and no room for the sword to maneuver in self-defense. As soon as you make a move, what you want is the life of the opponent.

Of course Ji Zheng is not sympathizing, but pity. He just instinctively began to fear this kind of absolute edge, but at the same time, a fire that had never been seen before quietly ignited in his heart. eager.

His blood surged uncontrollably, his heart beat faster, and he murmured in a low voice, "Uncle Huang...Is this you, Uncle Huang."

It was at this stall that Ming Ciyue's expression slackened for a moment, and when he fired the gun, he turned his eyes and turned his head in his direction.

After the masked man who was sitting on the ground and retreating repeatedly avoided the blow, his eyes followed the emperor, and he looked like a weak little emperor wrapped in a ball.

I don't know where the courage came from, despite the pain, this man suddenly missed the spike and got up, knocked over Ming Ciyue, and came straight towards Ji Zheng!

With no sharp weapon in his hand, he could only restrain the emperor's shoulders with strength alone, hold him in front of him, hold him back to the window, and said in a low voice, "This is the emperor! Don't..."

The word "movement" was taken a deep breath by him, and he swallowed it.

Before he could threaten Ming Ciyue, the stabbing pain in his left shoulder suddenly penetrated through the pores, and went straight to the depths of his brain along every tiny nerve.

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