Lee Sin's Bizarre Adventure

A minute ago, Fuge and Nalanjia were still fighting to the death with Jiaqiu in the bar.

At the same time, on another street also near the station, Mista was running back in a hurry with a bucket of ice cream.

He also shoulders the mission of finding ice and returning to Li Qing's aid.

Mista ran alone outside the station for a kilometer. Although he failed to find ice, he found a dessert shop selling ice cream on the roadside in time.

Ice cream also has the effect of lowering body temperature, which is the life-saving straw they urgently need now.

Time was pressing and there was no room for delay, and in the past few days, Mista had gradually become accustomed to the kind of life that came and went like the wind, without being restricted by the mundane.

So, after seeing the ice cream in the store through the window, he opened the door of the dessert shop without saying a word, then suddenly opened the counter and picked up a bucket under the astonished eyes of all the clerks. Ice Cream turned and disappeared down the street.

Maybe Mista was too aggressive in grabbing and borrowing, because no one stopped him from moving the ice cream.

He was happy to save trouble. There were no words or conflicts during the entire moving process, and it was over in a matter of seconds.

Soon, Mista hurriedly ran out of half the street holding the tub of ice cream.

The ice cream in the bucket was filled with sweet and cold air, which made him feel chilly and at the same time he finally felt at ease:

It's almost there. There's still more than half a kilometer to go.

I can go back with the ice cream right away and let everyone enter the station to rescue Li Qing.

With such an urgent mood, Mista's pace could not help but speed up a bit.

But at this moment, there was a sudden rush of footsteps behind him.

What followed was a shout full of anger and emotion:

stop!

You ice cream thief, stop!

While he was talking, a young man caught up with him angrily.

Huh? Are you an employee of that dessert shop?

Ah, it's really troublesome

Mista frowned tightly, but his running movements did not slow down at all.

Running back to the train station was his first priority now. He didn't have the time to deal with the dessert shop clerk who caught up with him at some point.

So instead of stopping to confront the owner, Mista ran faster and faster holding the lost property like a real thief.

Asshole! You filthy sewer rat!

“Don’t even try to take away the ice cream!”

The man chasing behind him did not retreat as Mista expected.

He even chased faster and faster amidst the angry roar, and soon he was close to Mista's back.

Hearing the footsteps becoming clearer and closer behind him, Mista finally couldn't run away in peace:

It's just a tub of ice cream, why are you so desperate?

“I’ve never encountered such a stubborn person before.”

Oh, by the way, I was in such a hurry to get the ice cream that I forgot to follow the procedure.

Mista suddenly thought that he had indeed skipped some key steps when borrowing supplies and did not use reasonable communication methods to appease the owner.

Thinking of this, he would waste a little time as soon as possible, but in order to save unnecessary trouble, he stopped as the pursuer wished.

I advise you not to pursue him.

Life is at stake, I really need this ice cream.

Shaking the revolver he had just forgotten to take out in the store, Mista advised him seriously.

After seeing such a persuasive method, most people will not continue to struggle over a tub of ice cream.

But what caught Mista off guard was that what he encountered this time was not an ordinary person, but a fool:

Gun? Who are you trying to scare?

If you dare, beat me to death - beat me to death, come on!

The man cursed and walked up to Mista's gun.

His face was full of recklessness and strength, and his voice was full of anger. He really looked like a righteous citizen who was unwilling to compromise with evil forces.

However, what was very different from this temperament was that he had dark blue short hair that looked very much like a reform-through-labor prisoner. He wore jet black trousers and a bright red jacket. The top and bottom colors were very fashionable and dazzling.

In addition, the red shirt studded with rivets was still wide open on the cold early spring morning, revealing an extremely trendy strip-shaped hollow vest underneath.

The fabric was so sparing, it had no thermal insulation effect, and it couldn't block his eight-pack abs at all.

Just dressed like this.

As soon as he showed up, he knew that he was the old substitute messenger.

But it is a pity that Mista, like other substitute messengers in this world, has never had the ability to distinguish other people's identities by their clothing.

Therefore, when the short-haired man approached with an aggressive look, Mista still only regarded him as a dessert shop clerk who had chased him all the way here to regain his lost property.

Hey, hey. Don't come close!

Mista waved the gun in his hand, trying hard to put on a fierce look to scare people away: It's just a tub of ice cream, do you want to die for this?!

Bah! The man with the short hair was very good at acting.

He spat fiercely at Mista, and assumed that dumbfounded posture again:

You kid, you haven't even grown hair yet and you still want to imitate others in armed robbery?

Do you dare to shoot? Don't you know how to shoot?

I guess there are no bullets in your gun!

The short-haired man approached Mista step by step.

As he walked forward, he confidently shouted to Mista in the tone of the owner:

Stop scaring people.

There's absolutely no way I'm going to let you take this tub of ice cream away!

You Mista is a little overwhelmed.

He really didn't have any money on him, and using a gun to scare people wouldn't work, and it certainly wouldn't work to actually use a gun to solve the problem.

The money will be given to you later, so don't bother me anymore!

Mista had no choice but to use words to excuse her while moving back.

However, seeing him trying to run away, the short-haired man chased him more and more closely:

Give it back? Do you think I'm a fool?

Stop, stop!

Using his identity as an angry owner as a cover, the short-haired man got closer and closer to Mista.

6 meters, 5 meters, 4 meters, 3 meters.

Don't come here!

Mista shouted loudly and subconsciously tightened his finger on the trigger:

Come any closer and I'll shoot you, seriously.

He finally faintly noticed something was wrong.

Because 2 meters is the attack range of most melee avatars.

Although the other party's acting skills were flawless and flawless, as an ADC with long hands and a fragile body, Mista instinctively did not want a stranger to get close to him.

However, facing the black muzzle of the gun, the short-haired man suddenly sneered:

Are you finally willing to take action?

It's too late!

At this moment, he completely tore off the disguise of an ordinary citizen:

It's so naive to still worry about the lives of ordinary people at such a critical moment!

If you were smarter and killed all the strangers who tried to get close, I wouldn't have the chance to attack you.

The short-haired man spoke with a sense of mockery and reluctance.

The slight reluctance in the tone seemed to be saying:

The person who can defeat the invincible boss turns out to be exactly as described in the intelligence, just a guy with a woman's heart?

If we had known that these brats with average abilities and such innocent personalities could kill the boss, their assassination team should have had the courage to rebel earlier.

Fortunately, there is now a chance to make up for their previous excessive caution:

Little Feet!

A humanoid stand-in with a thin body and long fingernails that looked like a skinny monkey suddenly appeared in front of Mista.

Really an enemy?!

Mista subconsciously wanted to shoot and fight.

But the movements of the thin humanoid stand were extremely sensitive.

It first raised its hand and punched over the ice cream bucket that Mista was holding tightly in his arms, and then instantly scratched Mista's palm with its slender nails as sharp as a knife.

Mista let go in pain, and the ice cream bucket also flew into the air under the punch.

Blood spurted out from the wounds on his hands, and the ice cream that rose into the air also poured forward in mid-air.

The short-haired man was splashed with ice cream all over his face, and the half-left ice cream bucket hit the ground and rolled several meters away.

Ha ha.

I told you, I will never let you take away this tub of ice cream.

The short-haired man licked the ice cream stained at the corner of his mouth, and his smile became more mocking.

Damn.

Mista's face was extremely gloomy.

Looking at the ice cream spilled on the floor, his eyes suddenly turned cold:

Sex Pistols!

With a murderous intention, Mista instantly pulled the trigger.

Bullets roared out.

However, in this short moment.

In Mista's stunned eyes, the enemy in front of him disappeared.