Endless Debt.

Chapter 41 Good Luck and Bad Luck

After walking out of the bunker, there was a burst of gunfire, and countless bullets were fired at Palmer.

Palmer seemed to be shopping, neither dodging nor blocking.

He strode forward against the rain of bullets, it was death, but he showed no fear, an excited, reddish color flashed across his face, and his eyes were bloodshot.

The heart is beating violently, fresh blood is transported to the whole body with fresh oxygen, the lungs are stretched, breathing heavily, and the whole body becomes hot, like a fully activated machine, running at high speed.

The danger thrilled Palmer, and it was such a maddening thrill that it felt like surfing the ocean, and he almost burst out laughing.

The moment he raised the pistol, the ghostly voice sounded in his mind.

"Palmer Clarks."

In the chaotic and hazy gray-white mist, an unknown existence stretched out countless arms towards him, and lifted him up until he faced the blazing white eyes with thousands of eyes.

"You are a gambler with a sharp edge. No matter what the danger is, you want to win everyone at the table with your meager chips."

Sharp fingertips caressed his face, bringing tingling pain and deep cold.

"You like this feeling, this feeling of being free from life and death, don't you?"

The voice inquired, with a slight force on the fingertips, it easily pierced the skin, and the strange and roaring voice was rampant in the ear canal.

"And enemies, and evil, and death...and the devil.

Make deals with us. "

The coldness and pain became more and more clear and intense.

The roaring gunfire sounded chaotically, as if Palmer was in the midst of a thunderstorm.

The gunmen pulled the trigger repeatedly, and fired one hot bullet after another at Palmer, like thousands of burning rockets, which could smash Palmer into a mass of broken flesh and blood as long as they touched it.

The voice in the memory continued to whisper.

"Escape the scythe and cold wave of death, retreat with all the chips in joy and fear.

This is what you want and what I want to give you..."

Facing the speeding bullet rain, Palmer showed a sincere smile on his face.

He is Palmer Crakes, the desperate gambler.

The sound of jingling hits continued, like a torrential rain, washing the earth, and one after another sunken holes were carved out of the concrete, and the bullets hit, setting off puffs of yellow smoke, completely engulfing the sight.

A hazy figure appeared behind the scattered smoke, he strode out, and at the same time, gunshots rang out again.

It's like being sheltered by some kind of power.

Palmer walked out of the smoke and dust, all the bullets missed him, brushed the edge of his body, or collided with other bullets on the way, and bounced off.

The torrential rain baptized, and he escaped all the rain.

"What luck!"

Palmer said loudly, pulling the trigger.

He fired five consecutive shots in the rain of bullets, and emptied all the bullets. His marksmanship was exquisite, and each bullet hit the enemy's head with precision. Clouds of blood mist exploded, and the gunmen fell one by one. Down.

After firing all the bullets, Palmer dropped the pistol and started running. The bullets chased him, but they always took a step slower, only hitting Palmer's shadow.

A tumbling picked up the rifle from the corpse and rolled into the bunker. Palmer was leaning against the load-bearing column, breathing rapidly, and there was no trace of panic on his face, but excited.

Outside the bunker, under the cover of smoke and dust, Bologo rushed all the way, the jackknife in his hand was pulled into a silvery white light, like thunder falling into the crowd, the white light flashed, and the scorching blood followed like a shadow.

Rushing into the enemy's formation, using the load-bearing pillars as a cover to gain time to breathe, Bologo disrupted the enemy's formation in one fell swoop, with chaotic shouts mixed with gunshots.

"Ether Amplification" strengthens the strength and speed of Bologo. These people can't keep up with Bologo's figure. Often when they pull the trigger, Bologo is no longer behind the sight, and the next second the bright knife light is on Enlarged in front of the eyes, set off the red curtain.

"It's really strong..."

From the corner of Palmer's eyes, he noticed Bologo's actions. There was no "alchemy matrix" on Bologo's body. It is really amazing that he can do all this just by relying on his physical strength.

But Bologo couldn't escape all the gunshots after all, and some bullets still hit him, but this still couldn't slow down his pace.

The dense gunfire stings the pupils, and what Bologo saw in the blurred vision, a pair of burning pupils, almost at the moment when Bologo realized the situation, there was a severe pain in his mind, It was as if a heavy hammer had slammed into the head, and even the balance of the body began to lose control, and it fell towards the ground.

The panic was only for a moment. Burrog stretched out his hand to lean on the ground, and controlled his falling movement, but the severe pain did not stop. He turned his head and saw Eugene staring at him behind countless enemies. Watching himself, as he moves, he also moves, ensuring that he is always within his sight.

The tearing pain lingered, but fortunately, because of the power of "resurrection from death", Bologo was used to death and the pain caused by death.

He was still able to maintain his mobility under the severe pain, and he rolled and rolled into the back of the load-bearing column where Palmer was.

After leaving Eugene's line of sight, the pain of consciousness lasted less than three seconds, and then began to recover. Bologo quickly woke up from the dizzy pain. He took a big breath and noticed the pain leaning against him Next to Palmer.

"how did you do that?"

Recalling the scene of "leaves not touching the body" just now, Bologo was stunned and asked.

"A little bit of luck."

Palmer raised his eyebrows. If this can be explained by luck, he is the embodiment of luck. But how could such a lucky Sublimator be caught by mistake.

But soon, the smile on Palmer's face froze, and there was a deep iron clang, and a flower of blood exploded on Palmer's shoulder.

ha?
Burrogo looked around vigilantly. They were hiding behind the bunker, how could they be shot.

"It's okay, it's okay," Palmer's face turned pale, "I got hit by a ricochet, it's okay, I'm used to it."

"Ah? What did you say?"

Burlogo no longer knew what expression to put on.

"Bad taste from the devil."

Palmer gasped for breath.

"A little bit of luck can bring you back from a desperate situation," he continued with a terrible smile on his pale face, "and then a lot of bad luck, warning you that the god of death is still watching you."

"You... mean 'gift'?"

What did Burlogo notice? Palmer escaped the rain of bullets. It was impossible for him to be so-called lucky, and he did not glow at that time, so there is only one conclusion.

gift.

Palmer Clakes was the debtor, Jeffrey had mentioned it on the phone.

"You seem to know a lot."

Palmer didn't say much, and then he heard a slight squeezing sound, and the bullets were squeezed out of Burrog's body, and the broken skin began to heal, leaving only blood stains on his clothes.

Both of them looked at each other with extremely strange eyes.

"Is this a gift?"

"Ah."

"Your luck? Is it a gift?"

"Ah."

Pausing for a few seconds, Palmer was so excited that he almost hugged Burlogo. .

"Darling! How can I see you being so kind? It turns out that both of us are unlucky people who are in debt."

Palmer was in a passionate mood. If the conditions on the spot did not allow it, Burlogo guessed that he was ready to become a brother with him.

Burrog nodded as if approving. Although he didn't know the specific ability of Palmer's "gift", judging from the current situation, Palmer would not die so easily, which reassured Burrog a lot.

Surprisingly, Palmer had the same idea as Burlogo.

"My good luck can only protect myself, but not others. Sometimes when bad luck comes, it may even kill others," Palmer said.

"But you won't die so easily, it seems that we are very compatible."

Palmer held out his hand in a friendly manner, and Burlogo also extended his hand and shook it with him.

"Sight, I suspect that the condition for his secret energy to be released is sight."

Burrog whispered, reminiscing about the fight with Norm, and the conversation with Geoffrey.

All of this is like a deadly pistol, the Desublimator's will is the hand that pulls the trigger, the "alchemy matrix" is the pistol, and the secret energy is the bullet inspired by the "alchemy matrix" driven by the will.

Then "shooting" requires aiming.

The line of sight is the front sight of the secret energy.

"What do you mean, as long as you are watched by him, you will be slammed by the secret energy, right?" Palmer asked, approaching footsteps sounded from all around, and there was not much time left for them.

"Almost... the time of contact is too short, I can only guess that it is, and only this can explain why he keeps staring at me."

For the battlefield, Bologo is very keen. During the battle, the blazing eyes have been watching him and moving with him. It was only when he noticed those eyes that Burlogo felt the severe pain in his mind.

"He needs a target to activate the secret power, so we need to be in his sight all the time?"

Bologo doubted, opened the tattered clothes, and pulled out the throwing knife and jackknife, "I can try to kill him."

"you sure?"

"I'm sure," Burrog replied earnestly, "I'm good at enduring pain, and I'm quite confident in my willpower."

"The main thing is, I won't die."

Bologo did not say this sentence, but stated it in his heart.

Palmer was silent for a second or two. He held the rifle in one hand and took Bologo's throwing knife with the other. "Give me all the throwing knives...I will deal with the others, and you will be responsible for killing the Desublimer."

"Ah."

Without asking Palmer what he was going to do, Burlogo simply unloaded all the throwing knives and handed them all over to Palmer. Then he stood up with a hammer and a knife in his hand.

"I can tolerate the pain, but I don't know if I can tolerate the fainting. Once I get hit many times, I will probably start to faint... I need time."

"Then I will try my best to buy you time and a chance to assassinate him."

Palmer rarely put away the smile on his face, grabbed the throwing knife tightly, and recalled the figures with guns one after another.

What Borrog wanted to say, whether he could trust him or not, after all, Palmer seems to have a very flexible moral bottom line, no one knows, if he fails, will this guy turn back and join the enemy again? .

But Burrog gave up, not trusting Palmer, trusting Jeffrey, trusting this damn Special Operations team, trusting the partner they picked for him.

Of course, the most important thing is that Burrog will not die.

Just like an absurd arcade game, everyone else has only one chance, but Burrog has a mountain of game coins, and he can make a comeback countless times.

"Then... let's start!"

Burrog shouted and rushed out of the bunker again.

(End of this chapter)