activa-t Chapter 80 Zhou Xing, Stop Slacking Off
Chapter 80 Zhou Xing, Stop Slacking Off
Chapter 80 Zhou Xing, Stop Slacking Off
The hatch behind Chen Qi was riddled with bullets. He huddled in the corner between the door frame and an iron cabinet. He had run out of bullets and was clutching his empty gun tightly, his body trembling.
A fish head suddenly emerged from the shadows of the side pipe, its webbed claws covered in slime grabbing straight at his face!
Chen Qi could even see the eerie blue reflection on the claw tip!
His mind went blank, and he couldn't even utter a sound.
"boom!"
The roar of the shotgun exploded at extremely close range.
It was Renault's adjutant, Hans, who had somehow moved to the side and used half of his body to block Chen Qi's side and front, while Winchester fired with the muzzle of his gun almost touching Yu Toujiang's chest.
The steel ball blasted the fish's head and upper body to pieces, causing foul-smelling slime and bits of flesh to explode and splatter all over Hans and Chen Qi.
Hans didn't even flinch. With a flick of his forearm, he cocked the gun with a "click," and the muzzle was already turned towards another dark figure rushing towards him.
Chen Qi collapsed, retching violently.
On the other hand, Zhong Ding's luck ran out.
A flying head strike targeted him.
This thing has learned its lesson. It no longer charges straight ahead, but instead uses the debris in the cabin and the shadows of the beams to drift left and right, with the green flames' eyes locked on it.
Zhong Ding fired repeatedly, but the bullets either missed or hit the flying head, only causing it to splatter black blood and hiss even more fiercely, but it could not stop it from getting closer.
"Captain! Captain Renault! Help—"
Zhong Ding's howl was tinged with sobs as he retreated toward Renault.
But he forgot where he was standing. A corpse tripped him, and the boat swayed at that moment.
Zhong Ding fell backward, his head slamming heavily against the iron pipe, and everything went black. The flying head let out an excited shriek and opened its mouth to bite down on his neck!
A hair's breadth away.
A fair hand pressed and pulled on the buckle of the leather holster on the adjutant's back.
A soft murmur.
A silver light, like a cold moon or a thunderbolt, descended from above with a soft "hiss," precisely piercing the wide-open mouth of the flying head demon and emerging from the back of its head!
The screech abruptly ceased, and the green flames in Fei Tou Jiang's eye sockets suddenly swelled before abruptly extinguishing. Black blood dripped down the silver light.
Zhong Ding stared wide-eyed at the terrifying head that was nailed to his nose, almost forgetting to breathe.
The one holding that gleam of silver light was Renault.
Sometime later, the Lebel swivel in his hand had disappeared.
He bent slightly, maintaining his thrusting posture, his right hand firmly gripping a slender rapier.
The way he holds the sword is very special: his wrist is slightly bent and the tip of the sword is slightly drooping, like a feline when it retracts its claws, yet it is full of tension that will kill in one strike.
The sword's blade is cool and clear, with a flowing, mercury-like luster. The hilt has an ancient design, featuring intricate Western patterns.
"Zzzzt—"
With a flick of his wrist, Renault deftly withdrew the rapier from the flying head's skull, drawing out a trail of black fluid.
The head, now devoid of its evil power, fell with a "thud" onto Zhong Ding's chest, quickly shriveling and turning black.
Renault stopped looking at his players, who were in dire straits.
His gaze swept across the chaotic battlefield and landed on Zhou Xing, who was using the swaying of the ship to narrowly avoid a venomous saliva while simultaneously shooting his opponent through the chest.
"Detective Zhou,"
Renault's voice cut through the noisy cabin, "It's time to make a move."
With a flick of his wrist, the rapier twirled into a tiny silver flower, its tip pointing downwards towards the ground.
"Clean it up thoroughly. Leave a few survivors."
The meaning is clear: stop slacking off, show your true skills, and make a quick decision.
Zhou Xing sidestepped a poisoned throwing axe, which cleaved deep into the wooden box behind him.
Upon hearing Renault's words, his eyes flickered slightly.
Could it be that you couldn't hold back any longer? Well then, let's see how you do it.
Zhou Xing stood up, his waist and hips sank, his toes gripped the ground, and the fishing toad energy flowed naturally, making him as stable as a rock on the swaying boat.
A fish head-shaped object swooped down from the ceiling, aiming directly at the gap between Chen Qi and Hans.
Zhou Xing's hair stood on end. He caught the faint sound of something cutting through the air, flicked his wrist, and without even looking, swung his gun diagonally upwards!
"Bang!"
The bullet struck the iron pipe with a loud bang, then changed direction, ricocheting upwards at an acute angle, entering through the open corner of the fish's mouth and piercing the brainstem at an angle.
Fish Head's body stiffened, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Another flying head descended, screaming as it attacked Renault's back from the side.
Renault did not turn around.
Zhou Xing moved half a step to the side almost as soon as the flying head started, raising his gun muzzle to precisely intersect with the flying head's trajectory.
"Bang!"
The bullet struck the flying head in the eye socket, the green flames exploded, the flying head spun and crashed into the cabin wall, then bounced up again.
A streak of silver light arrived.
Renault was so fast that he was just a blur. His footsteps skimmed across the damp ground, almost silently.
The silver rapier in his hand transformed into a streak of cold lightning, instantly piercing the soft cartilage beneath the jaw of the flying head.
"laugh."
A soft sound. The sword tip pierced the upper jaw and penetrated the brain. Wisps of blue smoke rose from the wound, and the flying head let out a mournful cry before stiffening and remaining motionless.
Renault drew his sword, stepped to the side, and his silver sword drew a semi-circle to his side, deflecting a poisoned blowgun that had been shot from an unknown corner.
The arrow shaft struck the sword with a crisp "clang" and fell limply to the ground.
There was no communication, no gestures.
Zhou Xing was responsible for precise mid-range kills and threat elimination, especially those eerie and swift voodoo monsters.
His gunshots became extremely rhythmic, and with each shot, a flying head or fish head landing motion would pause.
Even in blind spots, ricochets can accurately hit the enemy.
Renault, on the other hand, became the true reaper.
His sword moved with him as if he were strolling on a boat.
The movements were slow, even very elegant, with each step perfectly timed.
The rapier in his hand transformed into a flowing, cold light.
A Taoist priest wielding a poisoned hook charged forward with a roar.
Renault shifted slightly to the side, the poisoned hook grazing his uniform across his chest. The rapier moved like a viper's tongue, striking and then withdrawing in an instant.
A tiny bloodstain appeared on the man's throat. He staggered two steps, then collapsed and died.
The sword flashed again, slicing through the wrist of another sorcerer who was throwing a poison sac. The tendons snapped and the sac fell to the ground. Reno then kicked the sorcerer in the jaw with the tip of his boot, and the sorcerer passed out with a thud.
His swordsmanship was extremely concise, consisting of only the most direct thrusts, slashes, and points, combined with subtle footwork adjustments, making each strike precise and deadly.
The silver blade seems to have a natural resistance to evil spirits; any contact with it will slide off without leaving a stain.
Zhou Xing's bullets cleared a path for him, allowing him to subdue the enemy. Renault's rapier was responsible for the final execution.
The two, one near and one far, one moving and one still, shared a strange tacit understanding.
Gunfire subsided, and the shouts gradually died down.
The cabin reeked of an overwhelming stench of blood and acrid burning. Corpses and remains lay scattered haphazardly on the floor.
Across from the search team, on the other side of the battlefield, the female puppet was looking this way. There were more than a dozen corpses lying around her, and she was holding a flying head in her hand, which was baring its teeth and roaring.
Her fingers tightened.
The impenetrable flying head was deformed and shriveled by her single hand, and finally exploded with a soft "pop," turning into a wisp of black smoke and several pieces of bone falling to the ground.
Incredible strength, inhuman defense.
A fish head lunged at her from the side, and a venomous wolf clawed at her waist.
"laugh."
It was like gripping tough old cowhide, leaving only a few white marks, without even breaking the enamel-like skin. The female puppet grabbed the fish-headed demon's arm with her other hand and twisted it gently.
Click!
Her arm was broken. Fish Head screamed in agony as she snatched it up like trash and slammed it against the bulkhead.
"Bang!"
All that remained was a pool of broken bones and flesh.
Absolute dominance. She released her grip and walked slowly toward the search team.
Barefoot, I stepped into the pool of blood, making a soft thud.
Renault's grey-green vertical pupils locked onto her.
He still held the silver sword in his right hand, and with his left hand he took a crystal bottle from the other side of his waist and flicked the cork off with his thumb.
Inside was a semi-transparent, slightly golden, viscous liquid.
The female puppet seemed to sense a threat, paused slightly, turned her head towards Renault, and gave him a smile as if she were looking at a lover.
She bent her knees and charged forward! More than twice as fast as before, she lunged straight at Renault! The floor cracked under her weight.
Renault's expression remained unchanged. The crystal bottle in his left hand tilted slightly, and a drop of golden liquid fell onto the spine of the silver sword.
Until the woman's puppet rushed within three steps.
Renault moved.
He slid backward, and the golden liquid flowed down the sword. Wherever it passed, the silver light suddenly intensified, emitting a deep hum.
Take another step forward.
The silver sword transformed into a flowing arc of light.
The sword tip struck precisely at the center of the woman's brow, on her smooth, glazed skin.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment.
laugh!
It was like a red-hot iron pressed against solid ice. A dazzling golden-white light erupted from the point of contact, instantly spreading throughout her entire body.
The woman's forward-rushing posture froze, her smile twisted, somewhere between pain and bewilderment.
The glaze on her body, centered on her brow, quickly cracked, dimmed, and peeled away, revealing the dull, dry, and suture-covered skin beneath.
A soft sound, like the cracking of pottery.
She swayed, then collapsed forward, crashing to the ground and splattering blood everywhere. She fell silent, quickly withering into a truly desiccated corpse.
One strike, fatal.
Renault flicked his wrist, dispersing the remaining gold and grime on the sword. The silver light returned to its cool, clear state.
The dust has settled.
The cabin fell silent, with only heavy breathing and the muffled sound of the river water lapping against the hull.
A few lamps, still lit, flickered dimly, illuminating the slowly rising steam carrying the smell of rust and burnt meat.
Corpses lay strewn on the ground, blood slowly flowing over the spent cartridge cases, broken hooks, and several shrunken, blackened fragments of missile heads.
Hans remained expressionless, standing in front of Renault with his shotgun held ramrod straight.
Chen Qi slumped down beside a broken wooden crate, his glasses long gone, blood splattered on his face. He held his head in his hands, his fingers digging into his hair, his shoulders trembling slightly, his lips moving only intermittently.
Zhong Ding lay slumped in the sewage at the base of the bulkhead, his back pressed tightly against the metal. One hand clutched the bump on the back of his head, while the other gripped the empty gun he had fired. The fierceness on his face was long gone, replaced only by the emptiness of someone who had survived a catastrophe.
Renault stood in the middle of the aisle, with almost no blood on his body.
His uniform was still crisp and clean, except for the tip of his slender silver sword, which had just been dripped with black blood. He lowered his eyes, took out a white handkerchief from his pocket, and slowly wiped the sword.
He wiped every inch from the handle to the tip, meticulously.
The fine cloud patterns on the sword's spine were faintly visible beneath the bloodstains, and he wiped it with a steady rhythm, as if he were in a study.
The handkerchief brushed past, revealing the sword's gleaming surface, reflecting the flickering, dim yellow light above.
After wiping, he threw the handkerchief on the ground before looking up.
The gray-green vertical pupils first swept over the soulless subordinates, and finally fixed on Zhou Xing.
Zhou Xing stood a few steps ahead of Renault, near the porthole. The hazy sunlight on the river outside cast a cold shadow on half of his body.
He had just finished checking the Colt, ejected the magazine, glanced at it, pushed it back in, and with a "click," twirled the gun between his fingers.
He turned around and met Renault's gaze.
Between the two was a mess and the lingering smell of gunpowder.
After a moment of silence.
"Why did you attack?"
Renault spoke, his voice calm and even.
Zhong Ding shuddered suddenly, as if his words had jolted him awake.
He blinked twice, looking at Reno, then at Zhou Xing, at the Nanyang man opening the door, and at Zhou Xing's sudden shot...
He jumped up, and all the fragments in his mind suddenly pieced themselves back together.
Yes — they revealed their identities; they were there to ask questions.
Ask the two people in the attic later, and inquire about the whereabouts of the "Judge of Tianjin".
There was no need to do it!