Kaleidoscope open the door

"Sand Iron Law!"

The loose iron sand suddenly gathered and condensed into a square black iron pillar, crashed from the sky, and slammed into Yemengade and Fei.

"Hey, this is the third generation of Fengying...unlucky."

Yemengade chuckled and joked, and shook his head slightly, but the movements of his hands were not slow. He focused on two uses, and his fingertips shook out hundreds of Chakra lines to connect to the third-generation Fengying puppet.

One part occupies most of the joints and torso of the puppet, and the other part constantly expels and interferes with the chakra lines of the scorpion.

The three generations of Fengying puppets floating in the air quivered mechanically as if they had crashed, and the iron pillars that had fallen violently also suddenly fell apart and turned into fluffy iron sand clouds.

Yemengade controlled the speechless, angry to the point of distorted facial features to block the iron sand, and he leisurely approached the red sand scorpion who was equally angry but had lost the ability to express expression:

"Art will lose its sense of beauty in the face of higher art, as it is now."

In fact, it is not as simple as what Yemengade said. The puppets in the world are much the same, but in order to avoid being taken away by the same puppet master, each puppet master will make key changes to the puppet according to his own habits that do not affect the ability. .

If a puppet master rashly touches and controls a puppet he is not familiar with, the greatest possibility is to pit himself.

Yemeng is different. His chakra lines are too many to force control of the puppets of the Red Sand Scorpion in a short period of time. During the time when the Red Sand Scorpion wants to regain control, the extra check The Kraxian had already probed the inside of the puppet, enough for Yemengga to know the strange puppet well.

The scorpion of the red sand also believed in Yemengade’s nonsense, because he was too confident in his puppet and his own technology. He didn’t think that just more chakra threads could take away from him. The puppet must have a deeper reason, he doesn't know.

In order to get the answer he wanted, and to learn this technique, the Red Sand Scorpion didn't find it difficult to bow his head.

"I can join you, but you have to tell me how to control my puppet."

Chapter 75 Tactics

I sent it wrong. I sent it wrong. It was originally from the new book. I got it wrong when I was in a hurry. I will be in class tomorrow. I will change it back the day after tomorrow.

e, the main reason is that the chapter V is sent wrong and it can’t be deleted.···This is embarrassing. If you want to change it, at least one thousand words will work. If you don’t change it now, it is estimated that the backstage can judge me a copy of x, and then send this copy. Enter the little black room.

So I use the abandoned beginning of the new book to hold it.

Although the beginning is useless, but the plot is actually related to the new book, it is not abrupt, and it's almost extravagant.

After reading, those who are still interested go to the new book to take a look.

——————

The truck, disguised as a refrigerated fish transporter, bypassed other gangs’ sites or checkpoints, entered its own site, and finally stopped at the door of a warehouse painted with weird graffiti.

The black driver pointed his head at the camera on the warehouse door and took out the intercom behind his waist.

"Boss, the goods are here."

"come in."

With a slightly low voice from the walkie-talkie, the warehouse's rolling shutter doors slowly rose, and the lack of maintenance made a grating sound, and when the truck got in, it immediately lowered.

Stowaways also saw the process of the truck stopping and entering the warehouse through the gap, and felt a little uneasy.

Click!

The car door was suddenly opened, and a hideous scar went from the smooth forehead through the side face to the chin. The white man with gloomy face and eyes hoarsely shouted:

"All down!"

The inside of the warehouse that looks deserted from the outside is not so bad. The light source is good, allowing the smugglers to see seven or eight gunmen standing near the car door. There should be some in other directions, about fifteen or six. .

The smugglers got out of the car obediently as they reacted, and then got out of the car in a daze without reacting, and stood in a row under the command of a gunman.

There was also an Asian gunman who looked at the stowaways like visiting a roadside stall while writing and drawing with pen and paper.

The Asian gunman in charge of statistics quickly finished, and ran to the scarred white man and said flatly:

"Boss, there are twenty-six in total, nineteen men, seven women, and there is a little girl in there."

Scarface thought a little, and said lightly:

"Send them to Mrs. Gao. That old lady opened a new fan shop, and she should be able to get a good price."

The gunman responded quickly

"Yes."

There was no one beside the two of them, and they treated the stowaways as nothing. Some stowaways who understood the conversation between the two suddenly panicked. Although they didn't know the detailed meaning, they wanted to buy their rhythm no matter how they listened, so they quickly said:

"Sir, I have a cousin in New York, I can come up with a thousand dollars..."

This is not a hasty justification. Smugglers who choose to smuggle to a prosperous city like New York usually have relatives or other places where they can seek refuge or have their own way of making a living.

boom!

The smuggler's words stopped abruptly, his eyes widened, his mouth opened, and a few seconds later he covered his stomach, curled up and groaned in pain.

"You rubbish don't take yourself seriously, you know."

As the gunman said withdrawing the butt, the muzzle was pointed at the other panicked smugglers, and said fiercely:

"If you want to survive, be honest!"

The Asian gunman looked at the treacherous immigrants and nodded in satisfaction. At this moment, he noticed the silver-haired and red-eyed Asian with a very beautiful appearance. He thought about it and moved to Scarface. Small voice:

"Boss, look at that guy. I heard that the fat lady on 39th Street likes this bite. Would you like to try it?"

"Row."

Scarface glanced at Bailu. He saw that all the yellow races were the same, and he didn't understand the aesthetics of Asians. However, his subordinate is Asian. There is nothing to lose after a try. If you succeed, you can earn an extra. pen.

At this moment, a slightly helpless voice rang in Scarface and the Asian gunman's ears.

"Ahhhhhhh, this is not good."

Scarface and the Asian gunman woke up in horror and followed the reputation. I don't know when the Asian they had discussed before actually appeared in front of them, and immediately reacted instinctively.

The Asian gunman raised the muzzle, and Scarface reacted more quickly. He touched his waist with one hand and fisted out with the other. At such a close distance, he was very confident.

In Bai Lu's eyes, time seemed to be stationary. He was not surprised at his inexplicable and extra ability, or the outrageous dynamic vision and nerve response, and he stepped calmly to avoid Scarface's uppercut. Trajectory, smoothly pulled out the pistol between Scarface's waist.

Although he has lost his memory and has no memory of using a pistol at all, he knows how to use it when he gets it, as if he was born with instinct.

Bai Lu moved smoothly to open the safety, pulled the bolt, the bullet was loaded, and then the muzzle was placed on Scarface's forehead, and the trigger was pulled.

boom!

Firelight spurted from the gap between the muzzle and Scarface's forehead, and the bolt retreated automatically. The gun-smoke cartridge case just popped out. The muzzle of the pistol was pointed at the side of Scarface, and there was no reaction at all.