The wanton life of a certain beauty

This is a trap.

and……

This sentence is an obvious and obvious trap. But anyone with a slightly advanced IQ will realize that something is wrong after hearing this sentence, and there is a 90.00% probability that he will not step into this trap. .

But Wesley didn't just step in.

It was still the kind of result that exceeded Booker's expectations and even Booker was a little surprised to step in.

Booker was a little overjoyed.

Wesley would step on the trap in his sentence, which is what Booker expected. After all, to be fair, Wesley's IQ is not very good to begin with.

Although it cannot be said to be mentally retarded, there is nothing outstanding about it. Otherwise, he would not have been toyed with by the textile factory. Not only did his father lose his life for him, he even almost lost his own life. Lost it.

Therefore, Booker could predict that Wesley would be hit, but he never expected that Wesley almost didn't think about it. He threw out a bait that was considered a straight hook and then bit the hook directly.

Booker thought this, and the smile on his face became brighter and brighter!

Wesley couldn't help but laugh.

Wesley, who was standing on the ground with his head raised and looking at Booker, saw the increasingly unconcealable smile on the latter's face and clenched his fists: "Asshole, what are you laughing at!"

damn it.

This bastard, does he think I can't kill him?

I am also a killer!

Wesley suddenly raised his hand.

The bullet came out instantly, whizzing away once again towards Booker, who looked increasingly disgusting in his eyes.

Too bad it's useless!

Booker fired the blade, not even bothering to dodge. Almost at the moment when Wesley's bullet was about to break through the air, the blade suddenly appeared, and with the splash of sparks, the specially-made bullet was fired again. He was strangled to pieces.

Bow down.

Booker ignored George's words that were transmitted from his glasses to his ears through bone conduction. He took off his glasses and turned off the communication. Then he looked at Wesley and said slowly: "Wesley, can you live? I am very happy!"

If you didn't come, there would be no one to take the blame for this matter.

For this alone, Booker has to praise Wesley.

However, Booker has always been a man of kindness and love.

Way of the Assassin!

"call out!"

"Boom!"

Booker turned over and jumped directly from the guardrail. Under Wesley's gaze, he landed firmly on the ground of the factory building on the first floor. Then he looked at Wesley: "But, you shot me. I am very unhappy about this matter.”

Wesley ran over quickly and took the blame for him. Booker was naturally very happy and very happy to praise him for it.

but……

Wesley shot at him and tried to kill him. This is also true. For anyone who dares to shoot at him, Booker will not laugh and let him shoot, but will send him on his way mercilessly. .

Gratitude and fault cannot cancel each other out.

Again.

Booker has already said thank you to Wesley for running over to take over the favor, so what else do you need from him?

Say thank you again?

"Thank you!"

"what?"

"I say thank you."

Booker looked at Wesley, who seemed to be annoyed by him, with a smile on his face, and said thank you for the third time, completely repaying Wesley's kindness for coming to take over: "In return, I You are allowed to take the first shot, but you only have three chances."

Three thanks.

Three chances.

If none of this can completely offset Wesley's debt for taking the blame, then Booker has no choice but to wait until today next year to send a flower to Wesley's grave.

The premise is that Wesley needs a grave.

Wesley couldn't understand what he was saying and was a little mindless. He pointed the special pistol that was said to be his father's directly at Booker and said sternly: "What tricks are you playing?"

Booker looked at the muzzle of the gun pointed at him and spread his hands without any care: "It's nothing. Didn't you say that I killed your father? Then you can shoot. I will give you three chances to shoot."

If someone had pointed a gun at him before today, Booker would have struck first.

but now?

It is not whoever strikes first and holds a weapon can speak loudly.

The burst of adrenaline from the cross gave Booker the confidence he has now. From today on, no one can speak loudly to him, and no one can even think of killing him with a pistol or sniper rifle.

and so……

He has no way to thank the Cross, and Wesley is the son of the Cross, so giving Wesley three opportunities to shoot can be regarded as a reward for thanking the Cross.

As Booker said, he has always done things with clear grudges!

Booker spread his hands and stared at Wesley, who was 20 meters away from him, with a smile.

"Shoot."

"..."

Wesley looked at Booker in confusion, not knowing what he was planning.

but……

"Do you think I dare not?"

Wesley suddenly roared, and with a swish sound, he raised his hand in an instant. The pistol that looked like a custom-made one, the trigger was pulled instantly, and with a bang, a special bullet whizzed directly from the muzzle of the gun.

Booker turned sideways to the right.

call out!

The bullet almost flew past Booker's earlobe. Booker could even feel the sound of the bullet rubbing against the air as it spun past his earlobe.

Crisp and sweet!

It's a good bullet.

"Not bad!"

Booker nodded, affirming the craftsmanship of the bullet, then stood up straight again and looked at Wesley: "But it's not enough. If you come again, you will only have a second chance."

what?

Wesley looked at Booker who was unscathed and didn't even move his feet. He just dodged his shot so lightly. He was slightly startled, but he quickly came back to his senses: "You are looking for death, bastard!"

The trigger was pulled again.

boom!

boom!

Two bullets were pulled out of Wesley's pistol one after the other, whizzing, and then, at the moment they came out of the barrel, they changed their flight trajectory in an unscientific way.

A bullet circled in a large circle, trying to hit Booker from the side and rear.

The other bullet accelerated in a curve and hit Booker's forehead quickly.

Booker raised his eyebrows!

next second!

Iron bridge!

boom!

The bullets that were preparing to hit Booker one after another collided directly in the sky above Booker's sight at the moment Booker was leaning up. The bullets from the same gun collided together instantly.

"Not bad!"

Booker straightened up on the spot, tilted his head, and expressed his appreciation for Wesley's wit. Then, he opened his right hand, and the two bullet fragments that collided together and shattered fell to the ground, making a tinkling sound. Voice: "But, it's not enough. One last chance..."

The voice didn't fall!

Wesley on the opposite side raised his gun directly.

Bang bang bang!

The expression is crazy.

When Booker saw this, he laughed, turned sideways, and began to retreat toward the back. At the same time, he kept dodging: "Little guy, you committed a foul!"

Wesley chased Booker and fired continuously with an expressionless face, and said with overwhelming hatred: "You go to hell!"

boom! boom! boom!

clang!clang!clang!

Bullets were continuously shot down around Booker who was dodging continuously. They were shot on the pillars on the side. Sparks continued to splash out and shot on the corpses scattered nearby, causing the corpses to bleed again.

"Bang, bang, click!"

In this large factory building, Wesley, who was chasing after Booker and constantly firing bullets, suddenly heard the sound of his own pistol firing. Then he came to his senses and prepared to quickly change the magazine.

but……

"I gave you a chance, but unfortunately, you didn't succeed, Wesley!"

Surrounding the large factory building, Booker, who let Wesley's bullets enter the corpse one after another, stopped and stared at Wesley who was changing bullets quickly, but in his eyes it was like slow motion. , the silver light flashed, and the M1911 pistol was obtained: "So, it's my turn!"

He gave Wesley three chances without any discount.

Unfortunately, Wesley did not seize these three opportunities.

that……

What else?

"boom!"

"Fake!"

When Wesley heard the sound of pulling the trigger, he closed the magazine in his hand, raised the gun, and watched the bullets coming like bullet assassins and quickly fired in response.

Bang!

The bullets collided in the air and sparks flew everywhere!

"Yo!"

"not bad."

"Then try this!"

After Booker finished speaking, he fired again. This time, the bullet did not go straight out of the barrel. The moment it came out of the barrel, it went straight out of the sky, like an antelope hanging its horns.

Spear throwing technique!

How can it be!

Wesley was momentarily shocked as he watched the bullet come out of the barrel and fly away, constantly changing its trajectory in the air.

after all……

Only two days have passed since he was arrested by the New York Police Department, and two days ago, Wesley remembered clearly that Booker was not from the textile factory.

But what did he see?

Booker actually knows the unique trick of the textile factory: the spear-throwing technique?

how come?

However, the question now is no longer about why Booker can throw away his spear skills, but about his life.

"call!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Wesley's heartbeat accelerated instantly. In an instant, he fell into a mysterious and mysterious state. The speed of the violently beating heart in his body seemed to change.

And the bullet that was heading towards him quickly like an antelope hanging its horns was also in his sight. Gradually, it became traceable, and even the flight path became so clearly visible.

A blast of adrenaline!

Raise your gun!

Pull the trigger.

All in one go.

boom!

After a crisp gunshot, under Wesley's gaze, the bullet slowly came out of the barrel, and then, as if in slow motion, it hit a bullet with incomparable accuracy.

next second.

The two bullets collided in the air and then fell!

Crisis averted!

Wesley raised his head and looked at the person who was now in his sight, like Booker in slow motion, tightening his grip on his pistol: "You have no idea who I am!"

Booker: "..."