After Becoming a Little Sister

Brooke looked at him and thought for a while: "I just need two samples, how about working with you?"

"Those aliens have been told that to me before." Des Moines wiped the rain from his face and looked up at the cloud: "I replied to them...anyone who has encountered that thing wants to get that thing The - all have to die."

"..."

"This is a trap." He lowered his head and looked over with a disdainful smile: "A trap with a big appetite. Unfortunately, until now, I haven't figured out what they want to get."

Poseidon Boji looked sideways at the towering Poseidon section, as if she sensed someone peeping through the gap.

After a few seconds, she withdrew her gaze: "He's here too—"

"Yeah, the king of killers, he's here to kill people."

"Kill who?"

"Don't know, but it's not me, it costs a lot of money to buy my life, and my enemies are either dead or have no money."

Des Moines clenched his fists, feeling the restlessness in his body: "I don't have much time, I really hope that the behind-the-scenes director can move faster."

"If I remember correctly, you are not the executive in charge of combat, but business?"

"Isn't business one of the battlefields?" Des Moines shrugged: "For money, everyone can do anything. This is much more intense than the simple battle in the dark world. Now I only dare to drink water in the company. Bring your own."

"..."

"coming--"

It is indeed here. The upper deck of the Poseidon, which was originally trapezoidal, is built up layer by layer, and the top two floors are narrowed.

At this time, something broke through the guardrail on the top floor, and the flow of people rushed out like dumplings, entangled with each other, rolling down the tall steps of the Poseidon.

Not one or two, but dozens of them!

The future warriors from the Gate of Reality, the power armor knights from the Sacred Scale, and the metal monsters from the Silver Cross rolled and fought with each other, rushing out like crazy. If the Poseidon was replaced by a building, then this scene would probably be like Jack The height of Chen's oblique leap from the Rotterdam building is almost the same.

Des Moines frowned, and stood there without moving, just looking up at the scene, his eyes reflecting the faint skylight.

Poseidon Poseidon raised her hand to press the communicator next to her ear, and sent out a short inquiry, but there was no response. When she looked up, the team leader of the Gate of Reality was talking with a sacred scale with red eyes. The masters were entangled with each other and fell heavily on the deck of the next floor. The five-meter-high steps extended layer by layer, and they just rolled down layer by layer.

"……crazy--"

Brooke gritted her teeth and gave a low snort, her right foot paused on the ground.

The mechanical structure opened instantly, and the sharp edges tore the hem of her trousers, revealing the precision mechanical nozzle inside.

The fiery tail flames rushed out from under her feet, accompanied by her three-step and two-step forward movement, supported her to jump several meters high, and jumped directly to the edge of the upper floor, helping her to get away from her. The nearest future fighter of the gate of truth took out the opponent.

She pressed the other person's shoulder with one hand: "What happened?!"

The future soldier, whose whole body was covered by the nano-muscle beam combat suit, shook his head, and the red light under the helmet lit up to meet the enemy. He couldn't help but start attacking Bo Ji again, but just as he raised the gun in his hand, Bo Ji was caught. Kicked out.

Killing crazy-everyone is killing crazy!

Des Moines' helmet was flipped open to cover his face: "Alien hypnotism."

To be precise, it is the nightmare dilemma of Queen Iris—the other party can become a prince-level vampire, and it is through this method of spiritual resonance that she can draw all the surrounding creatures into the illusion of cognitive confusion. Ability is almost like a god in the era of cold weapons.

As for modern...

Remote control firepower?Drones?Accurate air strikes?Cover bombing?

After all, the mysterious side is weak, and the mighty power of the individual is defeated in front of the power of industry.

It's just that in the current small-scale battle, the power of the alien species is very impressive.

Des Moines is waiting for the mastermind behind the scenes, for the greedy ghost who set up a trap to include them all, while the king of killers hiding in the dark is waiting for the queen of iris, the wandering ghost. With killing intent, he constantly sifted and searched among the chaotic crowd, looking for traces of the other party.

Without the sacred scale of the Red Dragon Queen, attached to the Vatican, the King of Killers is the name of the dark world, but in the eyes of the Holy See, the other party is still a useful representative of a demon hunter who does dirty work—just like in all games The sad tool man NPC is the same.

The silent waiting, the pouring rain, the howling sea wind, and the huge waves that rolled up and beat the hull.

A few minutes later, someone directly knocked out a figure from the gap on the top floor, and landed heavily on the viewing platform with a drop of more than 20 meters. It was as miserable as being thrown from the top of the building. The ground of the viewing platform has a large pit sunken inward.

The man stood at the gap and looked down, and exchanged a sharp gaze with the person below. The expression under the Des Moines mask was unrecognizable, but the tone seemed meaningful.

"Baidongcheng...the Republic—oh...the Republic!"

Bai Dongcheng glanced at these bastards, then raised his hand to press his forehead, and staggered to support the wall.

The mental shock of a vampire prince is far from being easy to bear. If it weren't for the fact that there was a hidden cuteness among the people present, maybe even the Republic camp would fall into chaos. It's jumping down like a dumpling.

At this time, she finally understood why the Queen Iris was so confident.

With this kind of method, the other party can't go anywhere, why don't dragons and tigers dare to create originality?

But now...

The person in the pit moved his hand slowly, and then propped himself up from the pit with difficulty.

She is definitely not good now - a flying knife in front of her forehead is deeply embedded in her head until it has no handle, and the sides of the shoulder blades, chest, waist and abdomen, and knee joints have not escaped. The magic nail firmly nailed the key, coupled with the bloody side of her cheek, it really is the scene of a horror movie.

The torrential rain washed over her cheek, washing away the blood on the wound, revealing the pale flesh and blood underneath.

Des Moines looked at her, the naked eye could see the muscles on her cheeks began to squirm, slowly but firmly repairing the wound.

It's just that the eyes were still staring straight, as if she hadn't recovered, or it might be that the throwing knife that went into her forehead actually hurt her brain.

But no matter what, now is not the time to let the opponent recover blood easily.

He took a step forward, but at this moment, a large hole in the deck suddenly exploded a palm away from his toe, and debris flew, until the splashed stubble hit his armor, and the gunshot sounded It came from the sound of wind and rain.

... the top of the boat?

He looked sideways at the top of the boat and found the man who had shot and warned him amidst the rain.

It was a woman in a khaki windbreaker, and the distance between the two was not too far. He could even see the youthfulness of the other party, who could be called tender-faced. She looked like a newcomer in her twenties.

The newcomer raised the gun that was originally held flat with one hand, with the muzzle facing upwards, and stared at him coldly.

So it's still - the Republic?

Another man wearing almost the same style of clothes came up from the side ladder not far from the viewing platform, also holding a sniper rifle in one hand, with the tripod put away, this posture cannot be called in any case Threatening or sophisticated.

But when the air force locked on the iris queen in the pit, the young man in the khaki windbreaker suddenly raised the gun in his hand, turned around and locked on another girl hidden in the darkness at almost the same speed. people.

"call out----"

"Snapped------"

Shots were fired almost at the same time, and the scope of the sniper rifle of the man in the khaki trench coat exploded into a cloud of flying parts on the spot. A bloodstain grazed his face, which he could barely move away, and was soon washed away by the rain, leaving only a burnt scar. scars.

However, the shot he fired disappeared into the deep corridor hall of the Poseidon after the power outage, and there was no sound.

The man in the khaki windbreaker turned his head to look at him, raised his hand and pressed the communicator next to his ear: "It hit, I don't know where it hit, the opponent retreated."

Des Moines looked at the man quietly, feeling a subtle sense of dislocation.

Who is this?

Why do I feel like—

A faint music sounded in the Poseidon, and it was unknown who took over the ship's public address system.

It's a modest song, with deep piano accompaniment, and a soulful male vocalist:

【I thought the traveler would burn out my enthusiasm~】

【You are like a love letter~ I feel very rudimentary...】

【People lock their late love in confusion~】

[Speech with a perfect accent~disregard any relationship~]

[I heard you - hello? ] The singing was interrupted, and then the microphone was tapped by someone, making a loud sound.

Someone flicked their tongue and coughed softly in a girl's voice: [cough cough, one two three, one two three... Hey hey, hello everyone...]

Trying out nondescript mics, Des Moines raised his head, suddenly wanting to continue listening to the last few lines of the song just now.

So, are you finally willing to come out?

As he thought so, he saw all the lights on the boat turned on in an instant, brightly lit—even brilliantly lit.

Amidst the brilliant lights, on the boom that swiveled back at some point, stood a girl holding a microphone, who was slowly lifted up while singing, as if someone had hired a first-class lighting engineer, A low-level star who rented a second-rate venue.

[Your acting skills are also limited, and you don't need to talk about emotion ~ words, it's more ordinary to separate! 】

【I will turn a blind eye to the one who should cooperate with you, don't force someone who loves you the most to perform impromptu~~ hey hey~~】

With her eyes closed, she sang the out-of-key lyrics affectionately, the microphone was slowly moved away from her mouth, and the end sound was lengthened.

Des Moines watched silently, watched, then raised his hand.

The arm armor was opened, and sixteen miniature missiles were aimed at the boom, launching all of them——

Violent explosions, flames, and the sound of twisted steel enveloped the girl in front of her.

This was the most excessive attack so far. The huge broken mechanical arm rolled and fell, distorting and deforming the two decks, crushing several unfortunate members of the dark world to death. Attack the scene.

The huge Ferris ball lifted by the arm support rolled down on the observation deck, and the flames were blazing, obscuring the shadows inside.

Des Moines didn't turn around, but watched the explosion carefully and seriously.

Finally, he raised his hand and opened the arm armor of his right hand. The fingertips of his left hand stick out the knuckle-long sharp blade, slowly but firmly pressed on his arm, and began to slowly pull upwards, tearing open his own arm in an almost masochistic way. Arm flesh and blood.

After a few seconds, he stopped and looked at everything in front of him——

There are no explosions, no flames, and no idols performing live like idiots.

But there was still a torrential rain, and there was that young man in a khaki trench coat who could confront the king of killers.

"...Duke of Nightmare, Elek?"

So the previous one was also a so-called illusion that was created?

He looked down at his arm, the injury was real, and the pain slightly stimulated his brain now.

In the rain curtain not far away, a pale man put his hand on his chest, bowed slowly and saluted with all the courtesy: "The talent of human beings, let us envy you, the third holy son, His Excellency Des Moines."

Behind him stood two other people—the woman in the windbreaker from the vampire camp, and Earl Fernando, who was first brainstormed.

At this point, the heterogeneous camp is finally complete, and the Queen Iris, who 'pulled' herself out of the pit, stood up straight, looking at the khaki wild wild beside her with complicated eyes: "What the hell do you... want to do? ?”

"I don't know." Khaki looked up wildly at the top of the boat: "Maybe, I want to capture you alive."

"...Do you know how ridiculous things you are talking about?" The Iris Queen grinned: "Maybe you humans can kill blood races and alien species, but you have no chance of capturing us alive—do you think you are Who?"

"I'm just an ordinary republican, 24 years old." Khaki smiled wildly: "I'm a student."