Lee Sin's Bizarre Adventure

Formaggio struggled to lie down at the entrance of the sewer.

He used his still intact leg to firmly hook the ladder to steady himself, and then leaned his rotten shoulder against the edge of the manhole cover to provide support for himself.

Blood gurgled out among the indistinguishable black and red filth, and a suffocating stench slowly fermented in the air.

He looked extremely miserable, like one of those rats that had been pickled in the sewers.

But even so, Holmaggio's free hand, the only intact hand, still firmly grasped Mista's calf at this moment, capturing the victory that belonged to him.

Formaggio

This strange name was finally imprinted on Mista's heart in such a profound way.

He finally realized how serious his previous mistake was.

This mistake was not just that he missed calculating the enemy's mobility, but also that he ignored the enemy's willpower.

Formaggio was right, they were the same kind of people:

Men like them will never give up until they complete their mission.

The one who has to complete the mission now is me, Formaggio!

Formaggio's roar was like thunder.

His hands gripped Mista's calf firmly like iron vices.

Mista felt the heavy pressure coming from his legs, and at the same time he smelled the despair that suddenly filled the air.

His instinct was to fight back.

But now his hands were still occupied by the big ice cream bucket, and he was unable to react when he was suddenly attacked, so that his shooting action was more than ten times slower than usual.

But Hallmaggio's attacks were more sharp and decisive than him.

He knew that this might be his last chance, so he must not relax.

Without even giving him a chance to counterattack, the moment he caught Mista's calf in his hands, Formaggio began to exert force backwards, pulling Mista's body up from the ground.

Mista's current height is only over 40 centimeters, and his overall body shape is not as good as that of a well-developed one-year-old child.

Under the sudden force of Formaggio, he lost his center of gravity in an instant, and then was pulled up into the air by a big hand without any resistance.

Immediately afterwards, Holmaggio swung his arm downwards heavily.

Mista immediately turned into a human-shaped meteor hammer and hit the ground on the other side with an extremely tragic gesture.

boom!

The hard cement and soft flesh collided, making an unpleasant muffled sound.

All the bones in Mista's body trembled violently during the impact, and half of his body was bruised and bruised by the collision with the ground.

And the worst thing is

The brutal impact sent his revolver flying out of control.

Oops!

Mista's heart trembled suddenly in severe pain.

As an ADC, all his skills lie in this firearm.

For him, no matter how much the power of bullets is reduced, it is better than nothing. Without a gun, that is the real end of the road.

Mista tried hard to reach out and pick up the revolver that was thrown away, but Formaggio would not let his enemy have the opportunity to be re-armed.

Before Mista could even straighten his hand, another huge force suddenly came from the big hand that firmly grasped his calf.

Unable to stop and helpless to struggle, Mista rose into the air again under this huge force.

He had no chance to pick up his gun.

But the enemy has a lot of energy to torment him.

In this way, it seems to be a tribute to the classic scene of the Hulk beating Loki.

Formaggio held Mista's calf tightly and slammed it back and forth against the hard concrete floor wildly, violently, and non-stop.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

It sounded like someone beating a leaky drum with a sledgehammer.

The sound was low, dense, and creepy.

Amidst the continuous collisions, Mista's body was already a bloody mess.

He felt like all the bones in his body were wailing.

The pain seeped into the flesh along with the impact, just like the tide coming from the coast, covering one wave after another.

This miserable situation continued like this for a long, long time.

It took so long that the perpetrator himself felt his scalp numb:

Still not dead?

I must have smashed it dozens of times, right?

Formaggio was struck by Mista's vitality.

He, the one who wielded the hammer, was so tired that his arms were sore, but Mista, the hammer who had been hit, was still panting.

Although reducing the body size can indeed greatly increase a person's ability to withstand physical impact, it will not be so strong that he cannot be killed after being hit for a long time.

There is no doubt that this can only be due to Mista's strong physique and extraordinary talent.

It's better to die quickly

This way you will be freed earlier!

Of course, Hallmaggio would not show any unnecessary mercy to his enemies.

Seeing that Mista's body was so resistant to beatings, he immediately increased the intensity and frequency, preparing to do his best to complete this execution.

No. If you continue like this, you will die!

Mista struggled to hold on in pain.

He has lost the pistol he relied on to fight, and even his own freedom and life are in the enemy's hands.

But even so, through the training of these three days of travel, he unknowingly developed the belief that he would never give up.

one way or another

Survive first!

This was the only thought left in Mista's mind.

But now it is almost impossible for him to do anything to Formaggio, the only breakthrough can only appear on his own body.

So, the moment he was hit to the ground next time

Mista strained his body backwards and pressed down on his trapped leg.

Of course, this small movement cannot break free from the restraints of Formaggio, but it can make his knees protrude as much as possible, so that they are the first to contact the ground when impacting.

As a result, the force of the impact is almost entirely borne by the knee.

The huge force was exerted on the relatively fragile knee joint, which caused the flesh and blood of the knee to be eroded and the bones to be broken.

Sen Bai's bones were smashed to pieces on the ground, leaving only the skin, flesh and tendons that were not rotten yet still barely maintaining the apparent integrity of the stump.

But Formaggio was still undecided.

After entering King Kong mode, he just wants to kill the bug in his hand as soon as possible.

Without observing carefully at all, Mista had just hit his knee on the ground and shattered it, and he immediately used a huge force to pull back upwards out of habit.

Seeing Mista's body rising into the air again.

But this time, while being dragged, he suddenly stretched out his hands and firmly grasped a small raised cement on the ground.

The hands in the front tightly grasped the cement block, and the calf in the back was dragged backwards by the huge force of Formaggio.

Just pull and tug like this.

The knee that had been smashed to pieces suddenly broke with a splash of blood.

It's like being pulled off a small piece of spicy stick. When you pull it off, you will always be covered with shocking red oil.

What Holmaggio held in his hand was the torn off stump.

And Mista got rid of the bondage in such pain and regained his freedom.

However, his body escaped from Formaggio's grasp and began to fall uncontrollably downwards.

Soon, Mista's body brushed against Holmaggio's body, and fell into the gap of the manhole cover under the influence of gravity, falling to the ground of the sewer.

What?!

Formaggio was suddenly startled.

He immediately lowered his head to look for traces of Mista:

Mista had already fallen onto the narrow concrete path of the sewer. He was struggling to stand up with his broken leg and the wall.

Seeing this scene, Hallmaggio, who had been surprised just now, suddenly felt at ease again:

It's just a stubborn fight.

He had no weapons, and he broke one of his legs trying to break free.

Such an approach is just a mechanical implementation of the credo of 'never give up'. It has no other meaning except to allow yourself to live a little longer.

Although Holmaggio himself was shot in the knee, injured his shoulder, and was not in very good condition.

But compared to Mista, whose body had shrunk to such an extent and whose whole body was seriously injured by the impact, and who even had one of his legs amputated, Formaggio still had an absolute advantage.

Especially the previous smashing that lasted for who knows how many times, that level of damage is no joke.

Mista was now covered in bruises and blood. He could only hold on to the wall with difficulty, holding on to his only remaining leg, and jumped forward with difficulty with his short and broken body.

At such a speed, he would not be able to escape the pursuit of Formaggio no matter what.

What a tenacious guy.

Formaggio sighed in a complicated tone.

He climbed down from the ladder calmly and slowly stood up in the sewer.

At this time, Mista had just held on to the dirty sewer wall and escaped less than two meters away.

give up.

I'll let you die a little easier this time.

Formaggio limped forward.

To Mista's ears, this step sounded like there was a Tyrannosaurus rex chasing after him.

Damn it. Is there really no hope?

Mista did not stop moving forward, but he couldn't help but feel a surge of despair in his heart.

Because just like this dark and dirty sewer, he couldn't see the light at all:

He was seriously injured and without a pistol, he couldn't even run away.

So what else can he do now?

Mista asked himself in his heart:

Should we fight back with fists?

Impossible, his body has shrunk to almost the size of a baby, and even if he is not injured, he cannot have any impact on the enemy.

Or, rely on your own stand-in Sex Pistols?

That would be even more idiotic.

Mista's body has now shrunk to just over 30 centimeters, his height has shrunk approximately 6 times, and his volume has shrunk 216 times.

The Sexy Pistols are only the size of a bullet under normal circumstances. Now as the main body is scaled down, they are even smaller than a small grain of sand.

If he wanted to kill someone with such a little guy, he would have to make a big hole in his head, which was perfectly protected by the skull, and then invite those little guys in unsuspectingly to cause trouble.

Otherwise, if the most vulnerable and important brain cannot be attacked.

Such a tiny avatar, which is difficult for normal people to distinguish with the naked eye, has no chance of causing any effective damage to the enemy:

Attacking it from the outside wouldn't even scratch the itch, and attacking it from the inside would probably result in a stomach perforation at most.

what to do?

What on earth should I do?

Mista asked over and over again in his mind.

At the same time, he kept moving forward - even though he didn't know where he could go or how far he could go.

The road ahead is still dark, but Mista's pace never slows down.

Because he knew that if he just stopped like this, there would really be no possibility.

Just like this, in this darkness.

With the faint ray of sunlight leaking from the manhole cover, Mista could clearly see the narrow pipe exit on the wall not far ahead.

Is that a drain pipe?

Mista's eyes lit up.

He seemed to have found a ray of light in this endless darkness:

That place, as long as you can get to that place

I still have hope!