Mysda's eyes were empty.

The man with a buzz cut who was standing in front of him the next second disappeared into the whistling sound of the bullet coming out of the borehole.

The no.3 and no.5 in the sexy pistol shot out with the bullet that suddenly lost its target. They first circled several large circles in the air like headless fly, and then flew back in surprise.

"Misda, the enemy is gone!"

"Just, like a ghost"

The timid no.5 reported in Misda's ears in such panic.

"Fool!"

no.3 rudely scolded his random companions:

"What ghost, this is obviously the enemy's substitute ability!"

"That short hair disappeared from us in an instant. His substitute ability might be teleportation!"

“Telection?”

Mysda frowned slightly.

Although the enemy's sneak attack just now only cut his palm slightly, the strange method of disappearing out of thin air still made him instinctively sense the crisis.

Now that he heard no.3's inference, he couldn't help but fall into deep thought:

"Is the enemy's ability really teleport?"

"If you don't have the ability to move instantly, then the other party can move directly to yourself before, and there is no need to take time and effort to disguise yourself as an ordinary citizen."

"So, what exactly is the enemy's substitute ability? Why can it disappear from us in an instant?"

There are too few clues, and Mista cannot infer any results.

He could only hold his pistol tightly and beware of the next attack that could happen at any time.

However, what makes people feel worried is that the enemy has not moved since it disappeared, and he seems to have no intention of showing up again and continuing to attack.

"Why don't you continue to attack?"

"Is the enemy's purpose just to knock over that bucket of ice cream?"

"Or it is said that the enemy's attack has actually ended. What has he done to me quietly?"

Misda vaguely realized something was wrong.

He couldn't help but lower his head and looked at the only trace left by the enemy on him, the cut wound on his palm,

The injury was not serious, but the thin substitute cut a layer of flesh with her fingers, and even the blood didn't flow much.

"The injury is not serious, nor does it seem to be poisonous."

"What the enemy wants"

Misda was puzzled, but the voice that was talking to himself suddenly came to an abrupt end.

Because he finally discovered what the enemy did to him and what happened to him

He has become smaller.

He shrank in size and looked like a Russian doll with a shell peeled off.

The clothes on his body, the gun in his hand, and even the six substitute villains lingering around him all shrank in proportion as Misda's body size shrank.

He could not notice the gap on his body, but he had just inadvertently compared his palm with the ice cream bucket that fell on the enemy, and he immediately discovered the problem on his body.

And Mista turned to look at the car parked on the side of the road:

I turned out to be 1.79 meters tall, but now I stood up straight and I was just level with the roof of a car with a height of about 1.4 meters.

"I'm getting smaller, and the process of getting smaller continues!"

A hint of horror flashed instinctively across Misda's face.

The feeling of watching one's reflection shrinking from the car glass is really a weird thing that makes one's scalp tingling.

Now his figure has shrunk like an incompletely developed boy, and is still advancing towards the figure of elementary school children at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Mista had no doubt that if this state continued, he might become an "ant" that could be controlled by this weird substitute attack.

If he is still impatient, he will sit and wait for death. He must take action as soon as possible to fight back.

So, Misda thought anxiously in tension:

"Shrink, the enemy can reduce the object, that is,"

"That guy didn't disappear or teleport just now, but narrowed himself down and hid him!"

At this moment, Mista finally saw through the secret that the enemy had just disappeared out of thin air.

But now knowing this secret doesn't seem to make much sense.

Misda looked around and searched carefully, and his eyes glanced back and forth several times but found no trace of the enemy:

There was nothing on the ground, only a pool of ice cream scattered on the ground, a few inconspicuous gravels, and seven or eight little ants that emerged from the cracks in the ground.

"Oh no, I don't have the ability to sense at all."

"Even if I know that the enemy has been hiding after shrinking, I will never be able to find his body for a while!"

Time is tight, and Misda's body shrinks every minute and every second.

It was not only him who shrank, but also the gun in his hand and the bullets in the gun.

He knew very well that if he continued to shrink like this, the revolver, which was his only means of attack, would soon lose its power due to his small size.

Now he has no time to waste, and he has no skill to rely on his naked eyes to search for traces and traces.

"Since that's the case, I can only do it"

Unable to trace and fight back, there is only one way left before Misda:

"run!"

Misda turned around suddenly.

He made up his heart, bit his teeth, and suddenly stepped on his short legs

When Mista turned around and fled in helplessness, the man with a buzzhead, Holmagio from the assassination group, was hiding leisurely in Mista's pants pocket to rest.

After he cut Mista's palm with a substitute, he immediately turned his head and used his ability to use it.

Unlike other goals that require a certain amount of time to continue to shrink, when Hallmaggio uses his abilities, he can complete the entire shrinking process in an instant.

In this way, he first narrowed himself into an inconspicuous villain with a finger-sized body, and then used the chaos he created by "disappearing out of thin air" to quietly grab his trouser legs and climb up into Misda's trouser pocket.

It was impossible for Misda to think that the enemy he was looking for was always hidden in him.

And when Mista turned around and walked away at a loss, Hallmaggio, who was hiding in his pants pocket, laughed secretly:

"Does this little devil want to escape from the influence of my ability by widening the distance?"

"This is indeed a solution, a pity."

The mystery of rushing can indeed crack most of the stand-in abilities.

Because the effective methods of stand-in ability are generally divided into two situations:

One is a one-time transaction. After use, the target state will be permanently changed. Even if the body dies or leaves the scope, the target affected by the ability will not be restored to its original state.

For example, Giorno's golden experience.

Another type is a persistent skill. After use, you need to continuously exert influence on the target. As long as you kill the body or stay away from the substitute, you can remove the substitute effect.

For example, Prosut's heroic success.

And now, Mista should be able to see clearly:

His body is shrinking, and this situation must require the enemy's substitute to exert influence on it.

In this way, as long as he can escape from the range where the enemy's substitute ability can take effect, the reduction effect exerted on his body will naturally be eliminated.

The idea is indeed feasible, and this is also the only optimal choice for Misda now.

It's a pity

"What can you do if you run farther!"

"I am now sticking to you like a bank's collection message. How could you escape from my ability?"

Hallmaggio smiled secretly with such complacent smirk.

He had received a request for help from Gachu and came to siege and block Misda, who was looking for ice, and was a little worried at first.

Because Mista's ability to lock himself and aim at himself is almost unsolvable at a distance, Hallmaggio was a little worried that he might not find the opportunity to get close.

But unexpectedly, he was most worried and nervous, and passed the most understatement.

Misda is really a naive and tender gangster as the intelligence says. When he meets ordinary citizens, he will hesitate to worry about accidentally hurting civilians. He does not have the decisive and ruthlessness of a gangster who "will rather kill a thousand wrongly" at all.

"How can a person in a high position have such kindness as a woman?"

"You naive guys may not be able to bear the boss's legacy, the authority of the organization, and the special business worth hundreds of billions!"
To be continued...