I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 348 As handsome as a god

John Watson looked at the three still warm bodies dozens of yards away.

With the help of a prosthetic eye in the left eye. The shocked and doubtful expression on the other person's face came into view, as clear as if they were looking at each other at an extremely close distance.

He looked at the other party's horrified expression, but there was no trace of guilt or uneasiness about cannibalism in his heart, and he even vaguely felt an unprecedented sense of relief and pleasure.

John Watson looked at the rifle in his hand and muttered:

"Is this the power of firearms?"

"With just a slight pull of the trigger, even a madman with mysterious power will be filled with hatred... People who invent firearms, a weapon purely for killing, are really scary."

"But this feeling of holding heavy power in my hands... is really good... If I had such power in my hands before, I wouldn't need to be afraid of the older children in the Salesian Home. Where would I need to be afraid? How can those homeless people with eyes shining with hunger still need to live in such fear..."

John Watson had to admit that he liked this feeling from the bottom of his heart, this feeling of being able to take the lives of others with just a slight pull of the trigger... Of course, he still maintained his sanity in his head at this moment, and more I feel that as long as I have such power, I will no longer have to be bullied by others, and I will finally be able to resist and fight back.

A faint smile appeared on his face, and he turned to look at the diagnosis building of the sanatorium further away - it was a three-story white house. There were already many rooms on fire, but he could still hear the fierce sound inside the building. The roars of wild beasts sounded one after another, interspersed with shrill and unusual screams and the sound of gunshots that rose up to resist.

John Watson stopped smiling and immediately put away his rifle and reloaded it. He carried one rifle behind his shoulder and held the other in his hand. He ran through different tree shelters with an unusually flexible tactical running posture, while using his left eye. Hitomi also carefully looked at the surrounding environment to make sure not to miss anything unusual.

After killing those three lunatics, he felt as if a hidden switch deep in his heart had been turned on.

Every muscle, every inch of nerve, every thought is fully mobilized, the legs move according to a certain pace and posture from unknown memories, and the breathing follows the rhythm from unknown memories.

Although his heart seemed to be beating out of his chest with excitement, he could not feel any physical fatigue.

Although he was obviously more focused than ever before, he felt that his heart was also more relaxed and comfortable than ever before.

"It's like...I am truly alive until today!"

John Watson suddenly jumped out of the tree, quickly raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The barrel of the gun erupted with a joyful scream, and the bullet happily tore the air until it tore the mental patient in front of the door of the diagnostic building - the opponent's hand. He was holding a thick-edged kitchen knife that might have been snatched from the kitchen. The intact hospital gown was stained with large pools of dried blood.

But his face looked very rosy and bright, and he didn't look like he had been injured at all. He even performed an impassioned sword dance with several other mental patients in front of the door. The clanging sound of the swords clashing sounded loud and clear. It's so harsh, so disgusting.

Moreover, the weird songs that the six madmen waiting in front of the door were singing loudly had the same barbaric and backward meaning as the fire-worshiping madmen singing just now, which makes any modern person who claims to be sane. People unconsciously feel deep disgust and discomfort.

Such disgust and discomfort also filled John Watson's heart, not to mention the fierce features of these six madmen holding sharp knives and covered with blood, which can already show that they are by no means good people, and are most likely to be Evil people who wantonly kill innocent people just like the group of fire-worshiping lunatics!

Faced with such a group of anti-social, anti-logical and anti-human lunatics, John Watson did not hesitate for a moment when he pulled the trigger. He only hated that he only had a single-shot Martini-Henry rifle in his hand - if I were holding it now How great would it be to have two Colt M1873 revolvers!

In this way, I will definitely be able to kill these six evil lunatics in an instant, or even kill all the out-of-control lunatics in the entire sanatorium. I'm afraid that's not a problem...

Wait, kill all the madmen in the entire sanatorium... Why does this sentence sound so familiar? I always feel that there is someone who often ordered me like this in the past, but who is it?

A vague figure appeared in John Watson's head. Although he couldn't see the specific face and details of the other person, the outline always felt strangely familiar. It seemed that he had seen it countless times before, but where exactly did he see it? What happened?

Although his mind has wandered to unknown horizons, his body is not distracted by the battle at all.

His toes suddenly hit the ground and he shuttled back and forth behind different bunkers like a bolt of lightning, avoiding the sharp blades thrown at him. When the tree body as thick as his arm was penetrated by the sharp blade, he had already fled to the next bunker.

Both hands were still operating the rifle accurately and at high speed. The moment the hot bullet case exited the chamber and fell onto the green grass, a new bullet was already loaded into the chamber.

Click, the breech of the rifle locks.

Bang, the primer exploded and the gun flame burst into flames.

Poof, the flying blade penetrated the tree body again, but it still couldn't touch any of the clothes of this flexible figure.

The thin and gaunt mental patient watched his companions fall one after another. Indescribable grief and anger or the will to fight filled his blood vessels. He couldn't help shouting to the sky, and then suddenly clenched his fists and hammered his chest, bursting out like a big drum. There was a loud banging sound, and his body began to expand rapidly like an inflated balloon. The protruding muscles made the slim-cut hospital gown bulge.

The eyes of this madman who suddenly grew in size were so red that they looked like they were stained with blood, but his face looked extremely pale, as if all the blood and life force in his body had been poured into his deformed and swollen muscles. among.

The deformed and muscular madman once again burst out with a frightening and terrifying roar. The spiritual power contained in this roar was enough to make even the most cowardly and timid mortals unable to control themselves, holding a table knife and swinging it at their parents. It was enough to make people boil. The heat steams up the minds of mortals, causing their bodies to become dehydrated.

The power of struggle contained in the roar can help the remaining two companions get excited and fight until the last drop of blood is shed.

However, the figure gliding through the woods in front of him like a loach was not affected by his roar at all. Even his footsteps were not delayed at all, as if he had not heard the powerful roar at all and completely ignored him. Unleash the power of Forge, Blade and Heart in a roar.

The deformed and muscular madman thought in his heart:

"No matter how determined a mortal is, it is impossible for him to withstand my lion's roar so easily... Could this guy who suddenly appeared be a member of the secret sect?"

"Yes, although I couldn't capture the specific physical details of the opponent, the figure walking back and forth in the forest was clearly wearing a blood-stained lunatic asylum hospital gown. He was obviously a esoteric cultist like us... But why didn't he Go looking for those mortals who are hiding, but attack our kind?!"

"Is it because you have been depressed for too long and you were unable to control the sudden release of the blade's desire?"

"Even if you are lost in the desire of sword fighting, you still haven't forgotten the skills of using firearms and guerrilla warfare... Haha, it seems that you are a cowardly and wretched disciple of the colonel. I must tear you apart completely, and my lord will also This will give you more strength!"

The deformed and muscular madman suddenly opened his mouth and called out a violent roar. This roar was vaguely mixed with a mysterious word that was difficult for human vocal cords to pronounce. This word contained fiery power, enough to make the skin of the subject tremble. Burnt and flaking.

The fiery power spurted out from his mouth, causing ripples in the air in front of him, but it still failed to hit the unusually flexible figure. It only hit a big tree, shaking the tree. The trembling branches and leaves shook off, leaving a gnawing burn mark on the moist bark. Then the madman's head, which spit out a fiery roar, also bloomed with a bright and hot blood flower.

But when the bullet hit, this madman with some kind of beast-like keen combat intuition had already deflected the vital point in advance, so that the shot did not directly penetrate his brain, but just grazed his skull.

Perhaps the skull had been shattered with deep cracks by this blow, and a ravine-like scar had opened on his scalp. Blood slowly flowed down and dyed his face red.

But such an injury and such pain are not harmful at all to a lion-like man like him!

Anything that can't kill me will make me stronger! ! !

The madman who calls himself a lion roared loudly, and suddenly trampled the ground with his feet. The malicious rhythm that threatened death struck along the ground towards the figure in the forest. Such unusual walking and words were enough to make mortals get lost in the invisible. In fear, screams of terror and despair.

But even with such a blow mixed with the power of heart resonance, it still failed to shake the cunning and flexible figure at all. The opponent's footsteps did not stop at all, as if he was completely immune to any mental influence.

"Even the most penetrating power of the heart can't affect this guy?"

"No matter whether it is fervent prayers or walking words, it has no influence on this guy... Could it be that he is actually a dangerous person who ran out of Area 3?!!!"

"But didn't Jonathan say that after completely controlling areas one and two, he would then gather all his strength to attack area three?!"

"Where did this guy across the street come from?! How could Area 1 and 2 contain such a powerful secret messenger?!!!"

After discovering that the enemy in front of him was most likely a powerful secret messenger with power of level three or above, the mad man who called himself the Lion couldn't help but feel a little fear. Although he was named the ferocious King of Beasts, in fact, his consciousness He has not been completely corrupted by the power of the beast, and he still retains some semblance of reason and sobriety, knowing that the enemy in front of him is by no means something he can resist now... But the beast also has its own rules, even the lion king on the top of the mountain. I can't stop the hordes of jackals! ! !

"Brothers, we encountered a third-level emissary who was suspected of losing his temper at the front door. Why don't you come down quickly and help!!!"

The timid lion stepped on the ground again, and his words of help were already conveyed by the rhythm of the earth.

At this time, another passionate comrade died tragically under the opponent's shooting. Even the crazy lion had to raise his arms to block another incoming projectile, and then quickly swooped into the grass next to him. .

The crazy lion crawling on the ground like a defeated dog murmured in his heart: "I must be hiding behind the dense grass. The third-level secret messenger must not be able to find my specific location..."

He confidently hid behind the ornamental grass, concentrating on feeling the enemy's heartbeat... Well, the opponent had killed my last passionate companion, and was now hiding behind the trunk of the bunker and looking towards me. , do you want to find my specific location?

"Haha, unless you have a third-level mental telepathy or above, you can't even hope to find my traces... Hiding yourself is what beasts are best at!"

In response to his confident words, he responded with another loud roar.

The crazy lion's sworn expression suddenly froze. He lowered his head and looked at his chest in disbelief, only to see boiling blood gushing out from his heart.

"How is this possible?!!!"

"Does this guy really have a third-level mind..."

"He, shouldn't he, shouldn't he be a believer of the colonel's lineage... How, how could..."

There was a crash and the sound of glass shattering overhead, and a man as handsome and majestic as a bronze statue of a Renaissance god broke through the window and jumped in front of the Mad Lion.

The Madman Lion's eyes, which had started to turn black, finally had a glimmer of hope. He stretched out his hand tremblingly to grab the man in front of him, "Jonathan, help me..."

"I have stayed in this madhouse for too long, and my mind is almost withered... Vitality, I just need a little bit of vitality to continue to regain my vitality. I can still continue to fight. I, I can still..."

The handsome man named Jonathan just looked at this loser-looking guy coldly, his eyes full of disgust and disgust, "Shut up, Hammond, your cowardice makes me feel sick!"

"As a soldier, you should fight until the last drop of blood is shed, but you are hiding behind the corpses of your comrades, whining like a wounded puppy."

"You fucking disappoint me!"

Bang - there was another gunshot, interrupting the ruthless greetings of the two madmen.

This time the bullet hit directly at Jonathan who suddenly joined the battlefield.

But the man with a handsome face like a god just looked at the bullets coming towards him impatiently, and he caught the bullet without even trying to hide, and a bloody flower bloomed on his forehead, an extremely weak flower. blood flower.

The bright yellow projectile was not able to penetrate the man's forehead bone, but was embedded in the center of his eyebrows, like a golden third eye.

The blood slowly flowed down, and Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly.

His eyes seemed to be able to penetrate the waist-thick trees in front of him and see the ordinary heart that was beating violently behind the trees.

"Interesting, he is just a mortal."

(End of this chapter)