40,000 Years of Cultivation

The storm of death is like a thunderstorm in a summer afternoon, coming too suddenly.

The devout followers of Fist God couldn't accept such horrible pictures for a while, and they all remained strangely rigid, like strange statues.

Even their facial features and facial muscles were not prepared. They still maintained the contempt and excitement they just had, but they felt something was wrong. The confusion permeated from every pore and concentrated into a cloud of mist before their eyes.

In the mist, Gus's figure was a bit erratic, like a monster crawling out of hell.

Gus was as lost as they were.

Look at the two legs that are left, and I don't know if I should continue to call them "Han Kou", then look at the "Thunder-3" in my arms.

The recoil of fire and ice shook his limbs numb, and the numbness of the needle-point **** made the dream and reality gradually merge together.

I did it.

This is my strength.

I killed the Han Kou, the Han Kou who was as famous as my sister in the town!

Gus grinned, smiling as happy as a demon.

While breathing, naturally, the "Thunder-3" anti-material assault rifle aimed at the second target, "Zhou Yan" behind "Han Kou".

Zhou Yan is not afraid.

Because he has been immersed in the belief that he is invincible since he was a child.

His extremely pious logical thinking mode does not have the ability to make him think about everything that has just happened.

Therefore, Zhou Yan simply forgot what had happened just now.

It doesn't matter whether he is deceiving himself or others, or he is determined, in short, he regards what happened just now as some kind of blindfold, a demon's illusion, and even a test of the **** of fist.

As long as he is unwavering and undaunted, he will throw a strong punch at the enemy.

So, the supreme, invincible, and unique boxing god, will definitely bless him, protect him, and even come to him, right?

Thinking of this, Zhou Yan leaped high towards Gus.

Twenty years of hard training-from swaying with sandbags when he was learning words, to gritting his teeth while others were playing and making trouble, from the ardent expectation of his parents to the solemn gaze of the towering statue of the **** of fist in the temple of fist , The memory of the past seems to be transformed into a brand new force, perfused into every bundle of his meridians, every blood vessel, every muscle and every cell.

"Fisting God help me!"

He yelled violently, and felt something awakened in his body that had been dormant for a long time.

In an instant, countless marvelous arts and skills appeared in his mind, and he was enlightened, suddenly enlightened, as if reborn, surpassing the pinnacle.

"Breakthrough!"

Everyone saw the fierce battle flames surging from Zhou Yan.

It really seemed like a blessing from the **** of fist, turned into a gorgeous armor, wrapped around him.

This is a sign of comprehending the supreme mystery of boxing and breaking through a new realm.

No one thought that Zhou Yan, who had always been down-to-earth and therefore some unknown young man, would explode such a powerful force from the excitement of the demon and apostle, with his own piety and tenacity.

In an instant, everyone's mood suddenly reversed. The scene where Han Kou was blown up by Gus was forcibly forgotten by them. Instead, only Zhou Yan's brilliance was left.

Under this majestic and majestic light as the rising sun shines, all demons and evil spirits will turn into dust, and all demons and evil spirits will vanish into ashes, right?

Everyone's faces were filled with wonder and joy.

Then, with gazes of admiration, praise, and joy, they watched the glorious and pious young man who broke through in mid-air and was shot in two by Gus's bullet.

"Patter!"

Zhou Yan broke into two pieces, like two masses of rotten meat, and fell heavily to the ground.

That's right, Fist God did bless him, allowing him to make a breakthrough before the battle, with a more domineering body protector and a stronger flesh and blood body.

Therefore, Zhou Yan was not shattered and turned into nothing like the Han Kou.

Although most of the internal organs have been blasted away, at any rate, they remain intact above the chest and below the pelvis.

The frozen and then burnt flesh and blood was temporarily sealed, blood did not rush out, and his consciousness could remain sober for half a minute, enough for him to look down at his horrible ruin.

Zhou Yan's eyes were frozen, her expression dull, as if a confused mask had condensed on her face, no matter how intense the pain was, she couldn't crush the mask.

Behind the mask, the pious young man chanted repeatedly: "The **** of fist helps me...the **** of fist helps me...the **** of fist helps me...the **** of fist helps me...the **** of fist..."

His voice became weaker and weaker. Later, he couldn't utter a complete syllable at all. He could only open and close his mouth weakly like a fish thrown on the shore, spitting out **** bubbles until Death's sickle. Harvest his pious and confused soul.

The tragic deaths of two consecutive pursuers shattered most people’s self-deception. Their desperate faces, like drowning men, finally showed the horror and fear that they should have. The gazes that looked at the former “trash” kept trembling, like Is staring at a real demon.

Finally someone screamed. The screams seemed to have opened the cathartic gate. In a moment, seven or eight pursuers screamed hysterically, and their power seemed to leak out with the screams, to the extent that their legs He couldn't even support his body, either he twisted to the ground and slumped, or he crawled backwards.

"demon!"

"What kind of power is this?"

"How can mechanical monsters and steam monsters have such terrifying power?"

"The **** of fists is on top, the **** of fists—"

They cried and fell into a mess.

At this time, it was the turn of the ascetic monks in the pursuit team to do their best.

Unlike ordinary boxers, ascetic monks are people who vowed to dedicate their lives and soul to the boxing god, and abandon everything that is poured into iron fists.

After making a vow, they have to accept the harsh test of the Boxing Temple, usually sitting cross-legged under the impact of the waterfall for ten days and ten nights, and they have to survive for a year or a half in the deep forest without any tools, or they are bound all over their bodies. The heavy iron chain traverses the vast desert.

Only by being able to withstand such a test can you be qualified to enter the temple of boxing, practice the profound meaning of boxing, and become a deacon of the temple of boxing, a priest or even a higher-level high priest.

Compared with ordinary boxers, ascetic monks love pain, are not afraid of death, and believe in the **** of boxers as steel as iron, and will never be deceived by any tricks of the devil.

Even if there is such a ridiculous scene, the ascetic monks can still hypnotize themselves, and even strengthen their crystal clear and indestructible beliefs.

"The demon is powerful, surrender in a battle!"

A dozen ascetic monks yelled violently, their arms swelled suddenly, bursting into metal-like light, and then iron fists staggered and collided fiercely, making the sound of swords fighting.

The sound wave turned into an invisible cage, and the ascetic monks surrounded Gus with a mountain of faith and a wave of fighting spirit. They smashed their heads and smashed their heads at Gus.

Gus blinked.

The "Thunder-3" anti-material assault rifle was thrown away, but the "Kuroshio" triple-mounted heavy Vulcan cannon was picked up.