Legend of Ling Tian

Blood flashed, the white man with one left arm fell shoulder-to-shoulder, and the blood-like fountain shot from the broken arm, sprayed on the white man's face beside him, and immediately blurred his eyes. A strong sense of vomiting rose, but the man next to the man in white with a broken arm did not dare to say a word, and forced himself to swallow back the vomit that had poured into his throat. The thin figure in Ling Jian's eyes suddenly filled with fear.

There was silence all around.

Even the iron guards who watched it were never expected that this 8-year-old kid was so hot! Without achieving the goal in one sentence, even without hesitation, the knife was cut. Moreover, he was extremely venomous, and he was maimed by a knife out!

The surrounding Lingfu guards have some people with white complexions, gurgling in their throats, their throat knots are strenuously moving, and they seem to be swallowing ...

People in Iron Blood looked involuntarily towards Ling Tian who was sitting firmly on the cowl, but he saw his face indifferently, and looked at it coldly, as if it was commonplace and he didn't care. A cloud is breezy. The feeling of admiration rises in my heart: these two little guys are not simple things.

Lingjian's face remained the same, dripping blood slowly on the surface of the steel blade in his hand, and fell on the snow, making a slight "pop" sound.

Looked coldly at the white man who had passed out, Ling Jian's tone was still very calm, saying: "I don't have much time, I don't want to use torture, it's too troublesome; now, can you tell me?"

Don't want to use torture! Hearing this sentence next to the Iron Blood Guard, there was a feeling of grabbing the ground with his head, how do you want to use punishment? One arm was cut off with a knife, but he still didn't want to use torture? Is this too classic?

Ling Jian lowered his head and carried the knife. Waiting quietly, waiting for the white man in front to speak. I counted ten in my heart, but I still didn't hear any voice.

Ling Jian snorted coldly in his heart, raised his long sword, and saw it again without a look.

"No ... Rao Ming ... I said! Ah--" There was another scream of sorrow, another white man's arm suddenly ran away from home and fell on the snow. The fingers above seemed to move a bit.

A few drops of splattered blood splashed on Ling Jian's face, and then slowly fell off, drawing a fascinating trace on his pale little face. Ling Jian was standing upright, so he didn't try it.

Ling Jian looked at the man in white who was begging for mercy under his knife a moment ago, and seemed a little apologetic: "Sorry, you said it was late. I didn't keep the knife."

The blood stains on his face were still, the voice of the speech was calm, and it seemed to be common in gossip. It was like a guest in a neighbor's house, but I accidentally broke the tea cup. I am sorry, I broke the tea cup. That's normal.

The crowd of iron blood guards looked at this young and thin child, and a coldness rose from the bottom of his heart, and he could not help but shudder together. I remember what I was doing when I was seven or eight years old, and then look at the little guy in front of me now that I'm using a knife to cut people as if it's commonplace, and I don't blink my eyebrows. Can't help but say in my heart: Is this really a child? Do not! This is definitely a little devil!

The arm of the man in white was cut off, his face twisted, but he didn't faint; he covered the broken arm with one hand, and his body rolled violently on the snow; where it rolled, it was a striking red. A **** ho sound came out of his mouth, and he couldn't even speak because of the pain. From time to time, there was a short, low cry that seemed to come from the bottom of my heart. The severe pain made him seem to have no power to moan.

Ling Jian just glanced at him lightly, then turned his face calmly, and continued to look at the third person. He simply asked in his mouth: "Where are you? Will you tell me?" The tone seemed very gentle. It seems to be asking my neighbor's playmate: What will your family eat tonight? Can you tell me?

The white man's eyes widened, looking at the murderous child in front of him, his mouth widened. Seeing that he was asking himself, in a hurry and fear, there was a short sound in his throat, and his eyes were white for a while.

Ling Jian was furious and shouted: "Fuck your mother, even pretend to be dead!" Seems to be irresistible. The steel knife brush in his hand fell, and the blood spattered immediately. Splashing out, Ling Jian has become a blood man!

"I say! I say!"

"No, I said, I am willing to say ... please let me say ..."

A group of people in white are shrinking back desperately, and their faces are already terrified ~ www.NovelMTL.com ~ shouted eagerly, lest the next target of the demon in front of him be aimed at himself, the voice is loud and simple Able to be deaf.

Ling Jian snorted and pointed at a slightly fat white man with a knife, "You, say!"

At the tip of the knife, the thick blood is still converging little by little, slowly becoming round and dripping ...

The man in white was almost scared and incontinent. He knelt softly on the ground: "Little Master ... Grandpa, what to ask ... The little man must know everything, if ... There is falseness, and the whole family is not good. Die! "Under extreme fear, the swearing swore.

Ling Jian's face was a little slow, and he said, "Tell everything you know!"

"Yes! Yes! The villain's name is Zhang Dehu, but he is a disciple of the Dark Wind Hall. At the order of the Gang Lord, he said that he was entrusted by someone and took a big business; he came to intercept a person. The villain only knew The object of the interception was a five- or six-year-old child. We helped the child to kill him together with all his entourage. ... Uh, and ... and ... " I can't help what to say, I can't help sweating.

"Who instructed you to come? Who is the person entrusted to you?"

"Ah? I really don't know this villain!" Zhang Dehu, a white man, saw Ling Jian's face cold again and couldn't help begging for mercy, kowtowing like garlic.

"What's your name for the lord? How many people are there in the gang? Where is the general rudder? Where are the branch halls? How many people are there in your dark night hall? ..." Ling Jian doesn't care so much, as long as it's a question of his own, A brain burst of questions came out.