big devil holmes

Chapter 501 Huh? what is that?

Chapter 501 Huh? what is that?
A momentary sting.

In the past ten minutes, Sherlock's body has withstood countless blows from the gunfire. The damaged windbreaker, the bloody flesh blown by the bullets, the charred skin burned by the flames, and even several thorns... The bones were fried, but the bones were forcibly broken.

Ordinary people have died from such injuries a dozen times.

With such pain, ordinary people have already activated the self-defense mechanism in their brains and completely fainted.

But Sherlock is still running and killing.

He doesn't care about this kind of injury at all. With the support of a healing ability so powerful that he doesn't even understand it, he can spend a long time.

But suddenly, the stinging pain on the back of his calf made his expression become serious instantly.

He clearly felt that a bullet had broken through the flesh and blood, but there was no tearing sensation of an explosion, and there was no burning sensation of gunpowder, leaving only a trace of coldness that penetrated into the bone marrow.

He had experienced this weird feeling once before, and it was from a special long gun that the Imperial Mechanical Institute spent a lot of manpower and financial resources to create, and it was a special bullet of astonishing value.

He had been hit by this bullet before, and that time, he completely lost consciousness after holding on for a minute and a half.

In an instant, Sherlock's brain spontaneously collected the location data of the surrounding smoke, chariots, demons, soldiers, etc., and with the cold tingling of his calf tendons, he accurately found this star among tens of millions of lines. The direction the bullet flew from.

At this point, he was finally able to determine the location of the battlefield veteran.

In fact, in the past ten minutes, Sherlock had been wary of this shot, so he did not break out in the opposite direction, but quickly rushed into the battle, using the enemy and artillery fire to cover his body. However, he did not expect that in the Under this kind of obstruction of vision, the veteran was still able to find himself, and instantly capture his unstructured movement trajectory. He could also accurately find a momentary gap among many obstacles and hit himself directly.

Well, Sherlock is a genius, and he has never denied this, but he cannot expect that he is the only genius in the entire empire.

In terms of individual soldiers sniping down individual targets, Sherlock Autonomous cannot compare to the old major general and his inseparable spear.

The good news is that now that the opponent's position has been determined, within a certain range, Sherlock will never be hit by the opponent's second shot with his own computing power.

The bad news was that he had been shot and he wasn't sure how long he could hold on.

In the distance, Major General Ulysses put down his long gun after pulling the trigger, without even taking a second look at the scene in the scope.

He knew that he must have hit the target, so he pulled out the communicator in the vehicle next to him and gave direct instructions to the siege team in the wilderness below.

"There is no need to consume the target anymore, just chase it until it dies."

A very simple and arrogant order, it even sounded more like a stupid shout from the mouth of a street brawler without any military qualities.

But just such an order seemed particularly powerful and confident at this moment.

Because the target has been shot, he absolutely cannot escape.

So at this moment, all the contractors invariably controlled their demons to shrink towards the rear of the army, and at the same time, artillery fire all over the sky poured out in a fixed direction at the same time without any scruples.

The rubble all over the ground turned into flying pebbles. The bullets were fired straight ahead without aiming. They didn't care about the smoke and didn't need any visibility. They just swept indiscriminately in that direction. They gathered from all directions in the west, like a huge net with no way out.

Sherlock's reaction was half a beat too slow, causing his shoulder blade and other calf to be directly hit by high-explosive bombs. There was blood under the damaged clothes. He felt a little dazed in his mind, and the coordination between his mind and body was so slow. Half a second. Fortunately, his strong prediction ability allowed him to instantly include this half second in the calculation process and adjust his body for high-speed avoidance.

However, predictions will eventually deviate more and more over time. Sherlock felt that his legs began to gradually lose feeling. He began to rely on the force exerted on the muscles by his hip joints to guess the speed of his feet. Reduce running, use muscle fibers to directly inject and reverse the collision between the body and the ground, and glide close to the ground in the dense line of fire.

Da da da----

At some point, he passed by a broken armored tank, and then, a machine gun appeared in his hand, spraying violent gunfire intensively. Sherlock did not aim, or even look, but just pointed at a seemingly Shooting aimlessly in random directions.

But the warhead, which was supposed to be inaccurate, followed different sharp angles, accurately passed through countless steel gaps, and hit the soldiers in the gaps between the tanks. Puffs of blood exploded in the narrow bunker. , shrapnel flew randomly, and some people fell to the ground one after another, with large scarlet bloody mouths appearing on their heads and bodies.

Suddenly, the scene in front of Sherlock was in a trance. He fell to the ground with a bang and rolled dozens of meters away due to inertia.

The effects of the drug began to eat away at his thinking again.

Sherlock's fingers were deeply clasped into the bullet holes on his shoulders. The pain made him suddenly clear. During the rolling process, he once again mobilized the strength of his whole body to get up again. The bones and muscles were rubbing, impacting, compressing and releasing at high speed. , use pain to drive away that annoying fainting. He was getting more and more dizzy, but for some reason, he was getting faster and faster. His figure was like a missile flying at high speed. In his blurred thinking, he could no longer care about the flow of air in front of him and the discharge of ammunition. He was directly and brutally The forceful pushing made the surroundings feel sticky, driving dust and gravel, whistling and exploding in the withered yellow weeds, plowing through the dangerous fire line with a shrill roar, and rushing towards the place with the brightest flames like a suicidal move. direction.

At this moment, Sherlock vaguely remembered the moment when he rushed into the gate of hell two years ago. It's just that this moment is even more dangerous.

Sherlock felt that his jump was a little off track.

It was thought that a muscle in one leg was torn.

But there was no pain.

The medicine has caused the firelight not far away to converge into a sea of ​​confusing colors.

Stab - the missile scratched his abdomen for a moment. The clothes could not withstand the terrifying speed and instantly turned into a piece of shredded cloth. A large piece of the muscles in the waist and abdomen was cut away by the high temperature. , the tear marks spread along the side ribs, almost tearing him in half.

Sherlock took a deep breath of air that was just gunpowder smoke. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he had been shot a few more times.

In fact, if you think about it, when the palace of thought in your mind informed you that you were about to enter the encirclement, you quickly got out of the car and left, then the current situation would not have been caused.

I am not a fool, and I will certainly not imagine that I can really fight against the steel torrent with my own strength. At that time, I had actually foreseen the extreme danger of death.

But I couldn't escape at that time.

In other words, where else can we escape?

Is Sherlock afraid of death?
He couldn't explain clearly, but theoretically speaking, people must die. Even the old man who always stood at the top of personal power had to admit that he was about to die in the near future.

Then people should not be afraid of something that is destined to happen.

There are so many more important things than death.

So Sherlock was not afraid of death. He staggered and felt that everything around him was slowing down with his consciousness. The bright firelight in the distance began to become colorful and even froze, as if time had lost its effect and everything changed. It had to slow down, the sound of gunfire and artillery turned into a long and melodious sound, and the crackling sound of shrapnel in the distance also turned into a crisp sound.

Boom boom boom~ da da da~
If you listen carefully, it sounds a bit nice.

Sherlock felt a little sleepy.

He fell to the ground, rolled into the body of a dead demon, knocked it away hard, and then rolled over the sticky pool of blood due to inertia, which was covered with a lot of dust. An incendiary bomb was next to him. It exploded, and flames spurted out, licking at his body that was gradually losing consciousness.

Sherlock lay on his back under the firelight, looking up at the sky. He didn't care that several more bullets hit his body, causing a burning smell.

He is not afraid of death.

It's just that he was a little regretful that he didn't stand in front of the old man and ask without any respect, why the hell do you care about me?
dying?
He went to hell and came back alive, spanning 800 years, killing so many people, being a hero and a criminal, dragging mankind into a beautiful future, and stirring up the chaos of the empire.

In fact, if you think about it, this experience is already satisfactory enough.

But I'm still a little greedy, I think it could be more enjoyable.
In the few seconds when he was about to lose consciousness, Sherlock was still counting all these things. It must be said that he was really as everyone said, a guy who had an incomparable disregard for life.

Including his own life.

"Well, in life, you have to have some regrets."

He thought and smiled, no longer resisting the fatal fatigue and lethargy, and was about to close his eyes as heavy as mountains.

sudden!
"Um???"

"what is that????"

(End of this chapter)

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