Endless Debt

After walking out of the bunker, there was a sudden burst of gunfire, and countless bullets were fired at Palmer.

Palmer looked like he was going shopping, not dodging or blocking.

He strode forward in the face of the rain of bullets. He was facing death, but he showed no fear. An excited, reddish color flashed across his face, and his eyes were bloodshot.

The heart beats violently, fresh blood is transported to the whole body with fresh oxygen, the lungs are stretched, and the whole body becomes hot, like a fully activated machine, running at high speed.

The danger stimulated Palmer and brought him a crazy thrill. It felt like surfing on the sea. He almost laughed out loud.

The moment he raised his pistol, the evil and ghostly voice sounded in his mind.

"Palmer Clarks."

In the chaotic gray-white mist, an unknown existence stretched out countless arms towards him, lifting himself up until he faced the blazing white eyes.

"You are an adventurous gambler. No matter what the danger, you want to beat everyone at the gambling table with your meager chips."

The sharp fingertips touched his face, bringing tingling pain and deep chill.

"You like this feeling, this feeling of being separated between life and death, right?"

The voice inquired, and the fingertips exerted a slight force, easily piercing the skin, and the evil roaring sound rushed through the ear canal.

“With powerful enemies, with evil, with death…and with devils.

Make deals with us. "

The coldness and pain became increasingly clear and intense.

The roaring gunshots sounded chaotically, as if Palmer was in a thunderstorm.

The gunmen repeatedly pulled the triggers, firing hot bullets at Palmer one after another, like thousands of burning rockets. As long as they touched, they could beat Palmer into a ball of broken flesh and blood.

The voice in the memory continued to whisper.

"Escape the sickle and cold wave of death, and escape with all the chips in joy and fear.

This is what you want, and this is what I want to give you..."

Facing the hail of bullets, Palmer showed a sincere smile on his face.

He is Palmer Cracks, the desperate gambler.

The sound of hits was constant, like a downpour, baptizing the earth. The concrete was carved with sunken holes one after another. The bullets hit each other, raising up streams of yellow smoke that completely engulfed the sight.

A hazy figure emerged from the scattered smoke. He strode out, and at the same time gunfire started again.

It's like being protected by some kind of power.

As Palmer walked out of the smoke, all the bullets failed to hit him. They just brushed the edge of his body, or they collided with other bullets on the way and bounced away.

Heavy rain washed over him, but he escaped all the rain.

"How lucky you are!"

Palmer shouted, pulling the trigger.

He fired five shots in a row in the rain of bullets, emptying all the bullets. His shooting skills were superb, and each bullet accurately hit the enemy's head. Groups of blood mist exploded, and the gunmen fell one by one. Down.

After firing all the bullets, Palmer dropped the pistol and started running. The bullets chased him, but they were always one step slower and could only hit Palmer's shadow.

He rolled to pick up the rifle from the corpse and rolled into the bunker. Palmer leaned against the load-bearing pillar, breathing rapidly. There was no trace of panic on his face, but he was extremely excited.

Outside the bunker, covered by smoke and dust, Boluogo rushed all the way, and the folding knife in his hand was pulled into a silver-white blade, like thunder falling into the crowd, the white light flashed, and the hot blood followed like a shadow.

After rushing into the enemy's formation and using the load-bearing pillars as cover to gain some breathing time, Bologo disrupted the enemy's formation in one fell swoop, causing chaotic shouts and gunshots.

"Ether Amplification" strengthened Bologo's strength and speed. These people could not keep up with Bologo. Often when they pulled the trigger, Bologo was no longer behind the crosshairs, and the bright sword light appeared in the next second. The eyes zoomed in, lifting the red curtain.

"It's so strong..."

Palmer noticed Bolog's actions out of the corner of his eye. There was no "Alchemy Matrix" on Bolog's body. Everything at the moment was just relying on his physical strength to do this. It was really amazing.

But Boluogo couldn't dodge all the shots after all. Some of the bullets still hit him, but this still couldn't slow down his pace.

The dense gunfire stung his eyes. With his vision blurred, Boluogo saw something, a pair of burning eyes. Almost the moment Boluogo realized this situation, he felt intense pain in his mind. It was like a heavy hammer was hitting his head, and the balance of his body began to lose control, and he fell towards the ground.

The panic only lasted for a moment. Boluogo stretched out his hands and leaned on the ground to control his falling, but the severe pain did not stop. He turned around and saw Eugene staring closely behind countless enemies. Follow yourself, and as you move, he also moves, ensuring that you are always within his sight.

The pain of tearing lingered, but thanks to the power of "resurrection from the dead", Boluogo had become accustomed to death and the pain it caused.

He was still able to maintain mobility despite the severe pain, and rolled into the back of the load-bearing column where Palmer was.

After leaving Eugene's sight, the pain of consciousness lasted for less than three seconds and then began to recover. Boluogo quickly woke up from the dizzy pain. He took a big breath and noticed the pain leaning against him. Next to Palmer.

"how did you do that?"

Recalling the "no leaf touching his body" scene just now, Boluogo was stunned and asked.

"A little bit of luck."

Palmer raised his eyebrows. If this could be explained by luck, he was simply the embodiment of luck. But how could such a lucky Sublime Master accidentally be caught?

But soon, the smile on Palmer's face froze, a low iron roar came, and a blood flower exploded on Palmer's shoulder.

ha?

Boluogo looked around cautiously, wondering how they could be shot while hiding behind the bunker.

"It's okay, it's okay," Palmer's face turned pale. "Ricochet, he was hit by a ricochet. It's okay. I'm used to this."

"Ah? What did you say?"

Boluogo no longer knew what expression to put on.

"Bad taste from the devil."

Palmer gasped for air.

"A little bit of luck can help you survive a desperate situation," he continued with a bad smile on his pale face, "and then a lot of bad luck, warning you that the God of Death is still watching you."

"You... mean 'gift'?"

Burlogo noticed something. Palmer's escape from the hail of bullets could not be the so-called luck, and there was no glow on his body at that time, so there was only one conclusion.

Gift.

Palmer Clerks was the debtor, Jeffrey had mentioned on the phone.

"You seem to know a lot."

Palmer didn't say anything more, and then he heard a slight squeezing sound. The bullets were squeezed out of Bologo's body one by one. The broken skin began to heal, leaving only blood stains all over his clothes.

Both of them looked at each other with extremely strange eyes.

"Is this a gift?"

"Um."

"Your luck? Is it also a gift?"

"Um."

After a pause for a few seconds, Palmer was so excited that he almost hugged Bologo. .

"My dear! Why do you think you are so kind? It turns out that we are both unlucky people with debts."

Palmer was in an enthusiastic mood. If the conditions at the scene hadn't allowed it, Bologo would have guessed that he was ready to become his brother.

Bologg nodded in recognition. Although he didn't know the specific ability of Palmer's "gift", judging from the current situation, Palmer would not die so easily, which made Bologg feel relieved.

Surprisingly, Palmer also had the same idea as Burlogo.

"My good luck can only protect myself, but it cannot protect others. Sometimes when bad luck comes, it may kill others," Palmer said.

"But you won't die so easily. It seems like we get along very well."

Palmer held out his hand in a friendly manner, and Burlogo held out his hand and shook it with his.

"Sight, I suspect that the condition for releasing his secret power is sight."

Bologger whispered as he recalled the fight with Norm and the conversation with Jeffrey.

All this is like a deadly pistol. The will of the condenser is the hand that pulls the trigger, the "alchemy matrix" is the pistol, and the secret energy is the bullet inspired by the "alchemy matrix" driven by the will.

So "shooting" requires aiming.

Sight is the crosshair of secret energy.

"What do you mean, as long as he looks at him, he will be hit by the secret energy, right?" Palmer asked, approaching footsteps sounded all around, and they didn't have much time left.

"Almost...the contact time was too short, so I can only guess that this is the case. This is the only way to explain why he keeps staring at me."

Bologe was very keen on the battlefield. During the battle, the blazing eyes kept staring at him and moving with him. It was only when he noticed those eyes that Bologe felt the severe pain in his mind.

"He needs a target to activate his secret energy, so he needs us to be in his line of sight all the time?"

Boluogo said suspiciously. He opened his tattered clothes and took out a throwing knife and a folding knife. "I can try to kill him."

"you sure?"

"I'm sure," Boluogo replied seriously, "I'm good at enduring pain, and I'm quite confident in my willpower."

"The main thing is, I won't die."

Boluogo did not say this sentence, but stated it in his heart.

Palmer was silent for a second or two. He held the rifle in one hand and took Borogo's throwing knives with the other. "Give me all the throwing knives...I will deal with the others. You are responsible for killing the Sublime Ones."

"Um."

Without asking what Palmer was going to do, Bologger simply removed all the throwing knives and handed them all to Palmer. Then he stood up with the hammer and knife in hand.

"I can endure the pain, but I don't know if I can endure the fainting. Once I am hit hard multiple times, I will probably start to faint... I need time."

"Then I will try my best to buy you as much time as possible and a chance to assassinate him."

Palmer rarely put away the smile on his face, grabbed the throwing knife tightly, and recalled the figures holding guns one after another.

What did Borogo want to say, whether he could trust him, etc. After all, this guy Palmer seemed to have an extremely flexible moral bottom line. No one knew if he failed, this guy would turn back and surrender to the enemy again. .

But Boluogo gave up, not because he trusted Palmer, but because he trusted Jeffrey, this damn special operations team, and the partners these people chose for themselves.

Of course, the most important thing is that Boluogo will not die.

Just like a ridiculous arcade game, others only have one chance, but Boluogo has a mountain of game coins, and he can come back countless times.

"Then...let's begin!"

Boluogo shouted and rushed out of the bunker again.