"Tread, step, step..." The rhythmic trampling sounded at the nearby door with a tingling howl. The village minister's scream was so misty under the strange smile of not killing again.

The bones, meat pieces, and blood were unable to tell clearly at some point, "Continue running, run, run, hum, hum..." Absent, laughing wildly, the trampling under his feet did not stop, the entire hip bone of the village minister had been shattered, and the meat piece mixed with bones was delayed and the village minister was squirming forward due to the pain.

"Haha, haha" fingers stuck in the blood were inserted into the broken hair at will, and then the mind was confused. Unconsciously laughed wildly and stomped on, as if only the heart-wrenching scream in the ear could slightly soothe the tyrannical and crazy emotions in the mind.

"Uh ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah..." The village minister's scream was already hoarse, but the trampling that continued to extend from his tail vertebrae made him hunched over and continue to crawl forward like a reptile.

Blood may not be suitable for the pure white, but the extremely attached figure made the girl unable to move her eyes away. The hostile ninjas fell one by one. If they didn't kill the master, it would be as powerful as before. But if they didn't know why, they would become more and more unfamiliar with them...

Bai Wei shook her lips slightly and wanted to say something, but as a tool, she could only tremble slightly with the corners of her lips. I really want to be close to you and won't kill you...

Obedience binds persistence, may the heart affect the body?

One after another, the ninjas who were at least at the upper ninja fell to the ground, with their limbs broken, and their residual blood was still flying as usual. The back of the uncut was blurred at some point. The footsteps seemed to be trampling on the body...

Aibu Wuzhang hummed and trembled his shoulders slightly, murmured in words that he might not understand. The screams under his feet had ended at some point, leaving only the sticky squeezing sound of the stomaching his body.

The still tall figure is still bleak and arrogance, but the blurry figure is reflected in the white eyes, and there is an inexplicable sour feeling, as if it is about to lose something. The gentle girl fell into a panic, but she doesn't know what to do.

Sitting at the table, looking at the wine cup but couldn't drink it, Jiraiya looked at Zaibuzhan's back, and felt a little cold. Jiraiya shook his head slightly. Maybe the ghost-like guy can only fight him if he uses the technique that he still has incomplete mastery?

Jirai, who was naturally free and easy, rubbed his white hair. When he thought about it, he saw his slutty smile more and more. He had no idea where the big brain had already gone.

The corpse under his feet had long been shattered, and even the head turned into a pool of unrecognizable flesh and blood. If it was not cut, it would not feel like it would be stopped at all.

That kind of power, the power within reach, is right in front of you, why are you still hesitating and hesitating? Get it, and you can get rid of that hypocritical human emotion and have the power to surpass mortals...

The red and black space, the throne standing high, trembling and stretching out its bloody left hand, the abyss under the throne, the undead that drowns the world, howling, waiting for their king to usher in.

The pictures in my mind flashed one by one, warm, lonely, distorted, cold, sad, so many, some of them were blurred, some could see their appearance but couldn't remember their names...

A face with long temples slipped over, and there was no time to miss it. Only the familiar sweetheart left in the dark: "...be happy~~~" Who is that name? I can't remember clearly...

My slender black hair was flying again at some point. When I wanted to smell the intoxicating fragrance, I only vaguely murmured: "If you don't kill me again, I haven't seen me for a long time and beat me..."

The final picture is frozen in a pair of bright eyes like a cub, and a warm smile supports the last ray of light in the darkness.

The scepter embedded with the crystal skull, the roar of countless undead people in my ears, the high throne...

Haha, it’s not that I haven’t become stronger, it’s just that I have been suppressing it for too long...

Humph, is that what is the decision? The body that is not cut off no longer trembles, and the hand that is stagnant in the air slowly stretches towards the scepter that is reaching the peak...

"If you don't kill the Lord..."

Who? Who is calling his own name?

The warm feeling tightly clamped the waist, and the black and white blood-colored space cracked.

"Master Ai Bushou..." The delicate arms wrapped around Zai Bushou's waist, and with a faint aggrieved murmur, the paleness in Zai Bushou's pupils slowly dissipated.

I came back to my senses without slashing and trying to reach out to touch my arms around me. The moment I reached out, the bloody color of my palm made my movements solidify again.

Zabuzhan turned his head slightly, looked at the girl who was hugging her side, let out a light breath, and said lightly: "What's wrong, white?"

The girl's eyes were a little wet, and the slightly flashing corners of her eyes made her unable to bear to blame...

A drop of cold blood slid down the broken hair that was never cut, dripping on the pure cheeks, and a little scarlet on the whiteness made this strand of holy beauty.

A drop of crystal tears slid from the girl's slightly trembling eyes, and her slightly haggard face burst into a faint and forced smile. Bai did not answer the question of "I won't kill you anymore..."

The tyranny gradually faded from my heart. A faint feeling of fatigue climbing the mountain and never slashed my heart. I looked down at my little face and said, "Ye?" without slashing my questions.

"Just just now, I felt so strange when I didn't kill you just now, just like I didn't know you anymore..." Tears dripped from my eyes, moistening the cold blood, and a long blood mark slid down the pure cheeks.

The cub-like eyes that were tearfully sniffed Zaibujian couldn't help but squint his eyes slightly, and let out a faint "oh". Bai Weiwei tightened the arm that was holding Zaibujian's body, because the clogs raised on tiptoe made a "squeak" squeaking sound on the bloody road, splashing a few wisps of disgusting blood, falling on the white and tender feet, slightly contaminating the original beauty.

Zabuzhan looked at the bloody marks extending on the white face, and couldn't help but stretch out his restrained left hand, and when he was about to touch that face, he remembered the blood that he was contaminated with.

Bai slowly let go of Zabubukuan's waist, held the arm that was about to be put down, and gently touched the blood-stained hand to his cheek. The tears removed the slight condensation of the blood shackles, and the fingers that Zabubukuan's face were stamped with five blood marks on Bai Chunjie's face.

Non-zhan hangs his head slightly and wants to withdraw his left hand, but he is tightly covered by Bai. He looks at the snow-like face through his hair, smiles as always, the corners of his mouth curled up like satisfaction, the narrowed arc of his eyes, and the blood marks drawn by himself, a faint tremor rises from No-zhan's palm...

Zabuzhan raised his head slightly, wanted to say something, but opened his mouth, but finally muttered one word: "Bai..."

The sweeter the face snuggled up to me, the delicateness of my own body, the blood and the white holiness blend here. The more this happens, the more inexplicable heartache is tearing in my heart...

Bai tightly put his cheeks close to his left hand, and the blood stains stained the fair skin, but the faint smell of blood could not pull the tranquility of the smile.

Zabuzhan looked down at the familiar face. When the childish face was no longer so childish. The blood on the white and defiled holiness made people feel an inexplicable pleasure, but accompanied by the twisted pleasure, there was also a quietly tearing in the heart.

Even I don’t know whether to move my blood-stained left hand away?

Bai Weiwei raised her head, looked directly at Zaibuzhan Weiwei's eyes that were avoided, and said seriously: "Master Buzhan, no matter what, no matter what, please don't throw Bai away!"

The girl's clear voice echoed in the courtyard. She didn't slash her head and her hair covered her eyes that returned to the yellowish color. Will she abandon this child?

Maybe I can argue that there is no, but what will I treat the girl in front of me as if I have abandoned all "hypocrisy"? Attendant, or...

Private, tools...

That power that is within reach, that eternal eternity, the supreme throne, compared to these trivial memories, nothing at all, why, why, I still can't give up...

I stretched out my right hand that was not held by Bai, gently patted Bai's head, and the sticky blood gently dyed the gentle black hair...

"Yeah..." Zabuzhen said "Yeah", gently hugged Bai Peng who was snuggling beside him, walked into the house without looking at Jiraiya sitting at the table.

The black shadows covering the ground gradually converge, and the dazzling sunlight covers the place where the darkness is gone. The messy blood drys out and rots in the moment when the sunlight touches, turning into gray powder and scattering. The breeze blows, and only a few remaining traces of filth describe the truth of the past.

Jiraiya looked at the dissipated ashes and opened her mouth slightly, wanting to ask something, but Zabuzhan's figure holding the girl had disappeared deep in the house.

Jiraiya sprinkled off the slightly ashes of wine, poured himself a glass again, and drank it lightly, and Shui Naikui and Mingtou Yetou dispersed one after another.

Slightly cold water sprayed out from the shower, washing the blood all over the body. Without slashing the eyes, letting the water marks sprinkle into the eyes, giving rise to a feeling that was not very comfortable.

On the one hand, it is power, the extreme of blood, resentment, and coldness, and on the other hand, it is the "hypocrisy" of nostalgia, the tenderness that cannot bear and cannot give up. Do you become a "ghost" if you leave human feelings? Or do you still want to engrave the surname of Taodi in front of that child's name...

Cold water washes the head, hair sticks, cold marks bury the chaos, but the running water can't wash away the depression and dullness...
Chapter completed!