Dragoon fighter

Chapter 233 - Devil's Sacrifice

Chapter 233

devil's sacrifice

Not only the proficiency of movements and formation coordination can be seen, these young men have done this more than once, and the proficiency has almost become instinct. attack firepower.

The gun-carrying vehicles scattered in various vehicles watched the surroundings vigilantly, protecting the women, children and ordinary people without guns in the vehicles.

"Sally, what happened ahead?"

An old voice came from a van in front of the team with mottled paint and a few criss-crossed steel bars welding the windows together.

This van, like other vehicles, originally had a complete windshield and windows. Unfortunately, it was broken due to various accidents during the trip. There was no new glass that could be replaced, so we could only simply weld a few crude ones. Steel bars are only used to prevent the invasion of wild beasts, but they still have no effect on bullets, snakes and insects.

"Grandpa Mulder, the scouts ahead said that there seems to be a battle ahead. Let's stop for a moment."

A woman wearing a veil and carrying a K47 full of scratches was riding on a black Yamaha off-road motorcycle. She ran back from the front of the team with smoke and dust. After a sideways stop, she turned around again and turned her head. He said without replying: "I'm going to do some reconnaissance."

Because of the hot weather, she was holding the front handle of the car. Behind her palms wearing fingerless gloves, the exposed arms had wheat-colored skin as delicate as milk mixed with golden honey. She was a very young girl.

"Pay attention to safety." An old man wrapped in a black cloak walked out of the van. His wrinkled black-red skin and the occasional streak of gray hair exposed under the turban showed his weathered temperament.

The off-road motorcycle burst out with surging power, rolling over its large-diameter off-road tires with thick tread patterns, raising a column of sand and soil, and quickly disappeared from the old man's sight.

The sound of the roaring engine is just like the motorcycle brand, "Ya jumps up suddenly, then the sound gradually fades away." It is a very typical motorcycle engine sound. Perhaps the pronunciation of the three characters "Yamaha" is derived from this. Come.

"Aibike" the old man shouted while holding the car door and looking around cautiously.

"Village Chief Mudd Zariyev, what are your orders?"

A man with thick eyebrows and deep eyes, wearing a white T-shirt and a long machine gun belt hanging across his body, trotted over from behind the convoy. He had a saber on his waist and a universal weapon weighing more than ten kilograms on his back. Machine Gun, tall and powerful, ran to the van in long strides.

"Get a few people to follow Sally. I'm worried about this girl. Be careful and don't let her get into trouble. This is not our original Mikali Village."

The leader of this migration team, the former head of Mikali Village, Mudd Zariyev, rolled up his sleeves, revealing numerous old scars on his arms, and a pistol on his waist. Although he was old, he The hand that took out the pistol didn't tremble at all. It was steady, as skillful as a veteran who was used to using this pistol. There was a soft click and the bullet was discharged.

No one dared to take it lightly in this strange place. After countless lessons of blood and tears, no one knew that a group of gunmen would emerge from behind a pile of rocks or a ridge and fire violently at them.

"Yes, village chief, I'll do it right away." The strong man Aibik reached behind his back and took the universal machine gun in his hand. The gun belt was slung over his shoulder, and the bullet chain was exposed in the full fixed box magazine. The oil shine has been carefully maintained, and it is obvious that it has been privately modified. Although the ammunition belt is shorter, the response is faster, and it can be connected to a longer ammunition belt at any time.

He waved his hand and shouted not far away: "Omar Bakul Haq, you guys, follow Sally and don't let her get into trouble."

At a commanding height on the left side of the motorcade, the riders of several motorcycles shouted in response, pulled the accelerator, and rushed towards the front of the team in the direction where Sally disappeared.

Getting closer and closer to the place where the gunfire rang out, Sally found a place to turn off the motorcycle, pushed it aside, held the K47 on her back in her hand, bowed her body, and approached the battlefield with small steps.

The desert combat boots worn on Sally's slender feet were made in the United States. I don't know where they were purchased from. Although they were men's models, they fit her feet very well.

Holding the K47, he cautiously approached a pile of rocks. This place was very close to the battlefield. From time to time, stray bullets could even be seen nearby. The small black dots of the warheads were jumping around among the rocks like locusts.

There were screams, screams one after another, and the complex terrain blocked the view. From the sound of the movement, it seemed that it was a one-sided massacre.

Sally could tell whether the gunshots she heard were all K47s, or continuous and crazy shooting.

She carefully poked her head out from behind the rocks and took a quick look outside.

But it's just such a look, it doesn't matter if you don't look at it, but you can't take your eyes back again.

Indeed, as she expected, it was a completely one-sided massacre, a real massacre, a one-sided massacre, but this kind of massacre was something she had never seen before, and she had never dared to imagine.

It was about a hundred meters away, but I could see it very clearly.

This is the massacre of gunpowder weapons by cold weapons. Ever since she first held the K, Sally never thought that one day the sword could defeat bullets.

A warrior covered in silver-white full-body armor, with a half-shield in one hand and a strange-shaped long sword in one hand. The speed is frightening. He runs freely among a group of armed men. Every time he swings the sword in his hand, he will take away a living creature. Life, compared to the blood holes made by bullets in the body, death such as severing the waist, shoulders and heads, is far more terrible than killing people with bullets.

The frightened militants were almost not aiming, they were just shooting for the sake of shooting. The bullets were flying everywhere without any target. Although there were some guys who maintained a trace of rationality, they could never follow the silver-armored warrior. He could only watch helplessly as the other party killed his companions one after another.

Hiss~

Sally was stunned. Is this still a human being? The strange sword skills harvest lives as neatly as chopping melons and vegetables. Even in the middle of swing, the gun can be chopped in two without any hindrance like a hot knife cutting butter.

"Kill him, get rid of him."

"Damn, he's the devil"

"God, God, save me, I don't want to die, I want to live."

"Don't be stupid. This monster has killed dozens of our brothers and will not let us go."

"Don't be frightened, fire, fire"

In a rugged rock field, corpses littered the field. The surviving militants pulled the triggers desperately and emptied the magazines until the bullets were empty. Then they either turned around and ran away, or they rushed with machetes or daggers. Of course, This will kill you faster.

No matter how they aimed or shot, no matter how dense the rain of bullets was, it would be difficult to injure the silver-armored warriors at all. They might block with shields, pick with swords, or simply dodge sideways, as if they were performing a movie stunt.

By the time Sally came back to her senses, the massacre was over. Using the telescope, she quickly counted the bodies on the ground and came up with a very terrifying number, sixty-seven people.

Quickly counting the number of enemies on the battlefield is as essential a skill as mentally counting the bullets in the opponent's magazine. You never know when another enemy will jump out of a corner and shoot at you.

These sixty-seven people, without exception, turned into corpses. From now on, they will always fertilize the land here. This kind of scene seems to be common in this chaotic and barren land.

Judging from their attire, they do not look like kind-hearted people. In fact, they all look like armed militants. In such an area, such a country, and such a time, there is really no way to connect with civilians.

Perhaps without much explanation, one can easily guess the identity of this group of people.

But the guy who caused this killing

"The devil, really the devil" Sally muttered to herself unconsciously, repeating the shouts of the militants to the silver-armored warrior before they died. She couldn't help but shudder. If the other party used guns to kill these six She would be very surprised at most to kill seventeen armed men, but to kill so many people with a shield and sword was completely beyond the range that her brain could accept, and it was on the verge of crashing.

Although her heart was full of fear, Sally swallowed, but did not retract her head. She just carefully observed from a distance, avoiding the sight of the silver-armored warrior.

Although I don’t know what material the opponent’s silver armor is made of, you can see that although it is full of scars, it can’t be concealed and has some strange patterns engraved on it, as if it was once a beautiful handicraft, but now it has experienced disaster. The eyes are full of desolation.

In fact, if the J-10 itself is a work of art, then the remaining wreckage after being killed by two missiles has indeed experienced disaster.

Just as Sally imagined, even though the error was only as big as a layer of paper from the truth, even if it missed the mark, it was not far off.

Her heartbeat was now beating like a drum, pounding, pounding, pounding, but she forced herself to hold her breath and set up a telescope to watch the murderer begin to clean up the scene.

The silver-armored warrior groped among the corpses for a while and dug out some food and water. Seeing this, Sally couldn't help but breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, they were humans, not devils, because devils don't need humans. Food, but when she saw the silver-armored warrior picked out a K47 that was in good condition and had a complete appearance, her heart immediately lifted. It was so powerful just with a cold weapon. If she had to use a gun again, she would not be able to give in. Let people live.

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