As a stand-in messenger with the ability to reduce, Hallmaggio finally felt the power from the smallest.

The six bullet knights, who were far smaller than ordinary substitutes, were now unscrupulously stirring up the rivers and seas in his chest.

Even without bullets, they are still knights who can bring back victory and glory to their masters.

And this glory will eventually bring pain and death to the enemy.

"Well--"

Hallmaggio immediately let out a vague moan.

His breathing stagnated at this moment, and an indescribable pain surged in his chest.

He could feel his fragile lung wall being torn wildly by six villains, and the flesh and blood tissues that maintained his life were easily torn apart like paper.

The flesh and blood in the lungs were quickly torn open several large mouthfuls, but the six small "drill bits" kept drilling in his body.

And their drilling is purposeful and directional.

"Damn...my...heart!"

Hallmaggio tried hard to do something.

But the six villains had planned to tear open his lungs and came to the atrium between the left and right lungs in the blink of an eye.

Although sexy pistols have extremely low destructive power, the heart is not the kind of place that can easily withstand damage.

This is the center of the human blood circulation and the source of power of the human life system.

So, the moment the six little guys began to touch the heart, Hallmaggio immediately developed symptoms similar to acute myocardial infarction:

Severe heart colic and blood pressure drops sharply.

The hands and feet are paralyzed and out of control, and their consciousness tends to be blurred.

Hallmaggio was seriously injured and continued to lose blood for a long time, his limbs were cold and numb, and his blood pressure was very bad.

Now that he was hit by the heart again, he completely lost control of his body under this blow.

He was in shock.

No, the situation is more serious than shock, it is sudden death.

Even without time to speak, Hallmaggio's fire of life was like a light bulb whose plug was unplugged, instantly becoming dull.

He fell heavily in front of Mista and fell into the filthy sewer.

It may be because of death too suddenly, or because of heart damage, the pain of sudden death from shock is too great...

His eyes remained the same as before, and he was staring at his enemy until he died.

"Finally... it's over."

Looking at Holmagiona's eyes of death with her eyes closed, Misda breathed a long sigh of relief.

He is undoubtedly the winner.

It’s a pity that this victory came too tragically.

Mysta is now lying next to Hallmaggio's body.

Although his body was strong and resistant to beating, this nearly halved injury was definitely an unbearable pain for him.

If he cannot be treated in time, he will really die together with Hallmaggio in this sewer, just as he said when he coaxed the enemy.

Thinking of this, Misda immediately put out his last bit of strength and took out his cell phone from his top pocket:

"Li Qing is right..."

“You can’t wear clothes too fancy.”

As if to make fun of suffering, or to keep myself, Misda was talking to herself with difficulty:

"Fortunately I was wearing a regular shirt I wore from Naples three days ago, and a top pocket that could hold things."

"If I really had to wear a tight-fitting suit like those hooligans, I would be dead today."

Mista, who was left with only his upper body intact, sighed so much.

Fortunately, the phone survived with his top pocket, otherwise he might not even be able to call for help.

Now he can call for help from his teammates in time through his mobile phone, and the train station is not far from this point, so he naturally has a great chance to survive.

"but..."

"Didn't help Li Qing, I became a wounded person in need of assistance."

While Misda struggled to press the keys and dial, he looked at the unwilling face next to him.

The eyes on that face were still glaring round.

It was vaguely as if he was saying to him:

"Just just go out to the street to find ice... it seems to be..."

“It’s not that easy…”

Misda sighed softly.

...................................................................................................

Time goes a little further.

Near Venice Railway Station, another direction is different from Fog and Misda.

A breakfast restaurant just opened, and an uninvited guest came to the store:

"Hey, pack all the ice cubes here in me in a bag!"

"Don't stand there! Didn't you hear it clearly?"

"Everyone can take off my pants when I'm urged to pee, and keep moving!"

In addition, Borunarev, whose hair was probably close to 2 meters tall, unconsciously illuminated his sturdy muscles, like the Five Finger Mountain falling from the sky, suddenly crossed the restaurant staff.

Porunarev is also a member of the Ice Search Group, and he is responsible for visiting in one direction alone.

He took the initiative to win this task.

Because Porunarev has been in so much pain over the years.

Until last night, he had been trapped in that small wheelchair, hiding in one inconspicuous corner after another.

He used to be agile swordsman, but during such a long time, he even needed help to go up and down the stairs.

This is not only sad, but also despairing.

After experiencing such pain, Porunarev, who had regained his healthy body, most disliked him was to stay still.

He has been sitting in a wheelchair for too long, and now he just wants to run as much as he wants.

So, Porunarev volunteered to take on the mission of going out to find ice.

He moved his body as if he had been reborn, freely running through the ancient streets of Venice.

Soon, Porunarev found a breakfast restaurant that had just opened nearby.

There is indeed ice reserves in the restaurant, and the staff in the restaurant cooperate very well.

There is no way not to cooperate.

Porunarev is already burly and amazingly imposing. He is dressed in a trendy hairstyle, with scars on his face and muscles on his body, which makes him look very difficult to mess with.

If you don't send this vicious guy away quickly, no customers will dare to go into the store to have dinner.

So, the clerks quickly rushed to pack a large bag of ice for Porunarev, and then sent it carefully:

"First, sir...the ice you want."

They were so nervous that they were like hostages communicating with the kidnappers.

But the response of the "killer" was surprisingly friendly:

"Okay, thank you."

Porunarev took the ice and said thank you very gentlemanly.

That's not enough...

He even habitually took out a wallet from his pocket and then pulled out several large-value bills from it:

"You have kept the money, and I bought the ice cubes."

"If you have more, just treat it as the tip I gave."

Yes, he gave the money.

As a well-educated French gentleman, although Porunarev is a bit fierce and scary, he is a very polite and excellent man in his heart.

If he can avoid things that he doesn’t pay for things, he will try his best to avoid them. If he can cause less trouble, he will cause less trouble.

This is some of his principles, and of course, perhaps it is also a habit he has developed over the years with caution.

But no matter what, unlike those gangsters who are unruly, mavericks, stay away from the stinky money and not in harmony with the world, Porunarev does carry his wallet.
To be continued...