He Comes From the Void

Graves coughed out thick, black phlegm, his lungs blistered by the smoke from the warehouse.

At the moment of the explosion, even though he was the closest to the explosion and hid in the bucket, he was knocked down by the impact and passed out.

Then he woke up in the flames, and found that the bucket he was hiding in had been blown to pieces. His whole body was like a stranded fish in a smashed fish tank, and the water on his body was almost evaporated.

The air was thin, and the feeling of suffocation was dizzy. The warehouse couldn't stay any longer, so Graves hurriedly got up to touch his fate.

Destiny's gun is also extremely hot, but now this gun is Graves' only reliance, and it's time to break out of the encirclement.

The charred corpses of the Hook gang were scattered in the burning corridor. He put his head down and quickly walked through the burning corridor.

The members of the Hook gang gathered outside the corridor, and no one expected Graves to appear on fire.

Graves untied the red hood, and while rushing forward, he kept pulling the trigger of "Fate" like crazy, and the firing pin clanged loudly, as if it would break in two in the next second.

Large lead bullets crashed into their chests, and he quickened his pace without looking back, only to hear the wet sound of viscera falling to the ground behind him.

The hooks reacted, and several guys with chains and scimitars approached while Graves was reloading. Graves strode to distance himself, and then responded with gunfire and shotgun shells.

They turned into shattered corpses, and thick blood gushed out continuously.

But these were all small scenes, who were not desperadoes begging for food under Plank, they rushed up bravely and fought with Graves.

"damn thing!"

These miscellaneous soldiers were just targets for practice, Graves gritted his teeth and stuffed two more bullets into the chamber. Fate devoured everything in front of him like a mad dog. The lead bullets scattered sawdust in the cabin, and the flying wood chips even cut off a small piece of his ear.

Similarly, these short-sighted things did not end well. One guy lost his jaw, another fell into a pool of blood, and another turned into a pool of blood-red meatloaf.

Viscous blood has spread to the feet, and the members of the Hook Gang want to stop Graves, but no one can survive a round under the gun of fate.

He sprinted for the deck with all his strength, but there were more hooks on the deck, like flies around a cesspit.

Graves' limping captain raised a pistol at him, and he fired.

But the barrel of the gun suddenly stopped, and the chamber was empty.

There was a jerk, Graves was shot, and immediately rolled behind a crate on the deck, leaning against it to return fire.

This is the benefit of a body full of flesh. If Drizzt's small body had been shot like this, he would have already rolled all over the ground.

The wooden box was shattered by the bullets, Graves angrily spat on the ground, unloaded the gun, shot in a round of shiny new bullets, and joined the battle again.

He backhanded the captain in two and ran over his corpse to the bow.

The Hook Gang came after them, and brought with them even better guys. Bullets whizzed around him, and he fired at anyone he saw, fighting back like a mad dog.

Fate is roaring, the person who was still breathing alive just now has turned into a mess of meat in the blink of an eye. Arms and legs were scattered among the bloody piles of flesh, and it was impossible to determine where they belonged.

He rushed left and right, weaving between the bunkers, zigzagging back and forth, and the big gun in his hand kept ringing. For a man of his size, he was extremely agile. However, under the coverage of the enemy's dense firepower in various areas, he still inevitably hit a few more rounds of ammunition one after another.

Fortunately, what hit him was a relatively primitive flintlock gun, not a precision firearm from Piltover, otherwise one shot would have killed him.

Graves stopped to reload, panting like a pit bull with several spears in it, pain everywhere. Even though Drizzt said he was tough, he was still flesh and blood, not really invulnerable.

He glimpsed that the sails of the Nether Abyss had been swallowed by the fire, and the flames drove away the sea fog, and a figure in a scarlet cloak was standing on the deck staring at him.

That look made him shabby.

Thinking of the fate of falling into Planck's hands, even a pure man would feel scared, Graves didn't dare to delay any longer, and rushed out again holding the loaded fate, and took out a wooden box with a person hidden in front of him. The guns went up to the sky.

The Hooks had learned their tricks. They seemed to know that Graves was going to another ship, so they hid in the various bunkers they had to pass, and jumped out to attack him when he passed.

A butcher greeted him in the face with a fishhook, and he knocked his head off.

Just as Graves was loading the gun, two minions flew towards him swinging the rope, one kicked the fate in his hands, the other threw him on the deck, and punched him twice in the eyes, Hit him with stares in his eyes.

The other hooks swarmed like razorfish smelling blood when the war-god Graves was brought down. They had knives or muskets in their hands, and the breath of death was approaching.

Graves lay on the deck, pinned down and beaten, his face covered in blood.

He could feel that the deck was scorching hot from the flames in the cabin, and he wanted to get up and push away the iron hook that straddled him, but his hands were already tied.

Regardless of fate, he is actually no different from a stronger ordinary person, and he cannot withstand the siege of so many people.

"I don't know if Cui Zi ran out. I haven't seen anyone for a long time. He must have run away..." Just when Graves was about to give up, he caught a glimpse of a red light from the corner of his eye, and then a violent explosion engulfed them all. .

Graves' eyes dimmed, the iron hook that threw him fell on him, and his face was still covered with sweaty chest hair. He couldn't see clearly, but he heard a thumping sound across the boards in his ears - it was Drizzt's effeminate boots, which he had been trying to say were made of Sea Dragon's foreskin, It's too bad.

"You're still in such a mess." Drizzt's voice reached Graves' ears, and then he was pulled away with the corpse on his body.

"You're still so chic." Graves said through gritted teeth. He knew that Drizzt would come to save him, but even so, he couldn't help cursing: "You son of a bitch, you almost killed me!" It exploded!"

"No way, you know, I only come and go with those few cards." Drizzt shrugged and held out his hand to Graves: "Don't pretend to be dead, get up and run!"