Dark Savages Come To the United States - Chapter 11 interesting place

With his coat on, Bourkesso walked slowly in the city at night. The situation in the city surprised him.

Although he has been here for two or three days, he will still be surprised by this city that is prosperous during the day and chaotic at night.

Humans are always so complicated when they have not experienced a crisis in a critical world.

As long as there is free time for them to think, human beings will never settle down.

"I remember there seems to be a barber shop over there?"

Burkeseau looked at the shops across the street and said hesitantly.

As we all know, Nephalem never remembers the road. Those who can use the "return" magic do not need to remember how they got here.

After all, in a world full of demons, they just need to remember where they haven't been, because that means they can continue to kill those annoying demons.

"Hey, Luke, I heard you've had a good time recently!"

Under the gaze of Bourkesso, a frivolous voice came from the dark corner where the street lights could not shine.

If these guys stayed in a dark place, it would be difficult for a demon to find them for a while.

Burkeseau looked at the guy who was talking and couldn't help thinking.

The premise is that he closes his eyes and mouth.

"Hit, you bastard, I said if you show up at the door of Dad's barber shop again, I'll break your leg!"

A tall guy raised his fist high and shouted dissatisfiedly at the guy who started talking.

This man named Luke is tall and strong, and he looks only half a head shorter than Bourkesso, and his body is only a circle smaller.

For humans, he is already a strong enough guy.

"A good warrior, basically the same as a young barbarian who just stepped onto the battlefield."

Burkeseau looked at the strong black man and thought.

"Those weak mages meet him, maybe they will be beaten up?"

Whether a warrior is strong or not is completely invisible in front of Bulkesso.

He has seen too many powerful warriors in his life, and talent has no secrets to him.

"I don't know if he can get the approval of his ancestors, but he looks like a good seedling to be a barbarian."

Bourkessel stroked the bushy beards on his chin, feeling the comfort of their hands after they had been bent in front of the fire.

"Hi! Luke! I know you're good at fighting, but how long can you help that old guy? You need to know who is in charge in this street!"

The guy who was threatened by the **** man had no fear at all, because this guy was a member of a local gang.

"I know that the old guy is very prestigious, and generally no one will come to trouble him, but once someone wants to trouble him, it means that this matter is no small matter."

The way the little man spoke became more and more ridiculous, waving his hands in front of him, as if he was practicing some rare dance.

Or does this guy feel that doing so will increase his deterrence?

It's like when a cat encounters danger, it expands its fur to make its body look bigger?

"But you can't get past me!"

"Come on, Luke! You're just a cleaner at the barber shop. My boss said that if you'd like to close your eyes and go back to sleep, I'll give you a thousand dollars!"

"Think about it clearly, as long as you go back to sleep obediently, you can get this thousand dollars!"

The little man spoke in a more exaggerated tone.

Bourkessel was interested, not because of the thousand dollars that the little man said, but because of the fighting intention shown by the **** man.

The fists he waving have no pattern, nor can he gather strength, just like a veteran who bullies newcomers with huge strength.

Burkesso had seen this scene in the Seschelon Fortress many times.

But from the big man's eyes, Burkeseau could see that his purpose was not simply to teach the clown a lesson.

But as he said, it was a look that was determined to break someone else's legs.

A born warrior who doesn't know how to fight?

For Bourkessel, there is nothing more interesting than this.

"Young man, you should kick the ground hard first, then twist your waist, then shake your shoulders, and finally throw a punch."

Bourkessel's voice sounded like thunder in this street.

"No matter how bad it is, you should shake your shoulders before punching. Only in this way can you hit enough strength."

With Bourkesso's words, the lights on the residential buildings on both sides of the street went out half in an instant.

Burkesoe could still hear the crashing and muffled noises from the panic action in those rooms, probably someone bumped into something like a table or chair in the dark.

"I know, but I just want to break his leg, not his life."

The **** man put down his fist angrily and said to Bourkesso.

"Old man, what you should worry about now is your safety, not how I punch."

Burkeseau was a little surprised when he heard Luke's voice.

Not the part about safety, but the title "Old Man".

Bourkessel, who has basically no concept of life expectancy, never imagined that he would be called an "old man".

He suddenly realized when he saw the silver-white hair falling in front of him with the wind.

It turned out that the influence of death on him had not been eliminated, which reminded him of the abominable appearance of Martha El.

An unexplainable feeling enveloped this not-so-narrow street.

"Old guy over there, you're not that old barber shop guy, and no one will do wrong with us for you!"

The **** who almost had his leg broken by Luke shouted loudly at Bulkesso, it seemed that only a voice even louder than Bourkesso could give him some confidence.

Burkeseau could see his guilty conscience at a glance, perhaps the so-called "we" was just him.

Luke on the side didn't say a word, and didn't mean to stop the little man.

Little Hitt is right, in this city called Hell's Kitchen, no one will come forward because of a guy they have never seen before. UU reading www.uukanshu. com

No matter how kind that person is, he will not help him.

Because hell's kitchen is a place to provide food for demons, there are no good people here!

The little gangster looked at Bourkesso without saying a word, and almost forgot the thunderous sound before.

"Old guy! This is Hell's Kitchen! It's the source of the demons' food! You dare to speak loudly in this place, you must be ready to be served on the devil's table!"

The little man continued his arrogant provocation. In the dark night, he didn't see the eyes full of murderous intent when Bourkesso heard the words "serve the devil's table".

"You mean, I will be brought to the devil's table? Then I want to ask you, which devil wants to eat?"

The sound of rolling thunder sounded again, and this time the lights that had not been turned off were also extinguished.

People living in Hell's Kitchen, even an old lady who wears glasses and knits a sweater at home, can take out a double-barreled shotgun in the next instant and blast someone's head.

The word "devil" is the deepest hatred for Bourkesso!

He doesn't hate the Malthael who brought him death, nor does he hate those high-level angels in the high heaven who are unwilling to help humans.

Only the devil is different!

The footprints of the devil spread all over the holy mountain of Harrogath, and trampled on the corpses of countless barbarian warriors.

The devil even ruthlessly drank the rage-filled blood of barbarians and tasted the flesh and blood of human beings.

At this time, the demon guy was mentioned, and he threatened Bulkesuo with this.

Then this guy will never die happily!

Bourkessel is willing to promise with his beard!