I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

John Watson looked at the three still warm bodies dozens of yards away.

With the help of a prosthetic eye in the left eye. The expression of shock and doubt on the other person's face came into view, as clear as if they were looking at each other at an extremely close distance.

He looked at the other party's horrified expression, but there was no trace of guilt or uneasiness about cannibalism in his heart, and he even vaguely felt an unprecedented sense of relief and pleasure.

John Watson looked at the rifle in his hand and muttered:

"Is this the power of firearms?"

"With just a slight pull of the trigger, even a madman with mysterious power will be filled with hatred... People who invent firearms, a weapon purely for killing, are really scary."

"But this feeling of holding heavy power in my hands... is really good... If I had such power in my hands before, I wouldn't need to be afraid of the older children in the Salesian Home. Where would I need to be afraid? How can those homeless people with eyes shining with hunger still need to live in such fear..."

John Watson had to admit that he liked this feeling from the bottom of his heart, this feeling of being able to take the lives of others with just a slight pull of the trigger... Of course, he still maintained his sanity in his head at this moment, and more I feel that as long as I have such power, I will no longer have to be bullied by others, and I will finally be able to resist and fight back.

A faint smile appeared on his face, and he turned to look at the diagnosis building of the sanatorium further away - it was a three-story white house. There were already many rooms on fire, but he could still hear the fierce sound inside the building. The roars of wild beasts sounded one after another, interspersed with shrill and unusual screams and the sound of gunshots that rose up to resist.

John Watson stopped smiling and immediately put away his rifle and reloaded it. He carried one rifle behind his shoulder and held the other in his hand. He ran through different tree shelters with an unusually flexible tactical running posture, while using his left eye. Hitomi also carefully looked at the surrounding environment to make sure not to miss anything unusual.

After killing those three lunatics, he felt as if a hidden switch deep in his heart had been turned on.

Every muscle, every inch of nerve, every thought is fully mobilized, the legs move according to a certain pace and posture from unknown memories, and the breathing follows the rhythm from unknown memories.

Although his heart seemed to be beating out of his chest with excitement, he could not feel any physical fatigue.

Although he was obviously more focused than ever before, he felt that his heart was also more relaxed and comfortable than ever before.

"It's like...I am truly alive until today!"

John Watson suddenly jumped out of the tree, quickly raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The barrel of the gun erupted with a joyful scream, and the bullet happily tore the air until it tore the mental patient in front of the door of the diagnostic building - the opponent's hand. He was holding a thick-edged kitchen knife that might have been snatched from the kitchen. The intact hospital gown was stained with large pools of dried blood.

But his face looked very rosy and bright, and he didn't look like he had been injured at all. He even performed an impassioned sword dance with several other mental patients in front of the door. The clanging sound of the swords clashing sounded loud and clear. It's so harsh, so disgusting.

Moreover, the weird songs that the six madmen waiting in front of the door were singing loudly had the same barbaric and backward meaning as the fire-worshiping madmen singing just now, which makes any modern person who claims to be sane. People unconsciously feel a deep sense of disgust and discomfort.

Such disgust and discomfort also filled John Watson's heart, not to mention the fierce features of these six madmen holding sharp knives and covered with blood, which can already show that they are by no means good people, and are most likely to be Evil people who wantonly kill innocent people just like that group of fire-worshiping lunatics!

Faced with such a group of anti-social, anti-logical and anti-human lunatics, John Watson did not hesitate for a moment when he pulled the trigger. He only hated that he only had a single-shot Martini-Henry rifle in his hand - if I were holding it now How great would it be to have two Colt M1873 revolvers!

In this way, I will definitely be able to kill these six evil lunatics in an instant, or even kill all the out-of-control lunatics in the entire sanatorium. I'm afraid that's not a problem...

Wait, kill all the madmen in the entire sanatorium... Why does this sentence sound so familiar? I always feel that there is someone who often ordered me like this in the past, but who is it?

A vague figure appeared in John Watson's head. Although he couldn't see the specific face and details of the other person, the outline always felt strangely familiar. It seemed that he had seen it countless times before, but where exactly did he see it? What happened?

Although his thoughts were wandering to unknown horizons, his body was not distracted by the battle at all.

His toes suddenly hit the ground and he shuttled back and forth behind different bunkers like a bolt of lightning, avoiding the sharp blades thrown at him. When the tree body as thick as his arm was penetrated by the sharp blade, he had already fled to the next bunker.

Both hands were still operating the rifle accurately and at high speed. The moment the hot bullet case exited the chamber and fell onto the green grass, a new bullet was already loaded into the chamber.

Click, the breech of the rifle locks.

Bang, the primer exploded and the gun flame burst into flames.

Poof, the flying blade penetrated the tree body again, but it still couldn't touch any of the clothes of this flexible figure.

The thin and withered mental patient watched his companions fall one after another, and indescribable grief or fighting spirit filled his blood vessels. He couldn't help but roar to the sky, and then suddenly clenched his fists and hammered his chest, bursting out a huge sound like a drum, and his body began to swell rapidly like an inflated balloon, and the bulging muscles made the tailored hospital gown bulge.

The eyes of this madman who suddenly swelled up were red as if stained with blood, but his face looked abnormally pale, as if all the blood and life force in his body had been poured into this deformed and swollen muscle.

The deformed and strong madman burst out with a terrifying roar that was terrifying. The spiritual power contained in this roar was enough to make the most cowardly and timid mortals unable to control themselves and hold the dinner knife to swing at their parents, enough to let the boiling heat steam the mortals' minds, so that their bodies could not resist a lot of dehydration.

The fighting power contained in the roar can help the remaining two companions get excited, and the fighting spirit will burn until the last drop of blood is shed.

However, the figure slipping through the small woods in front of him like a loach was not affected by his roar at all, and even the moving footsteps did not stagnate at all, as if he did not hear this powerful roar at all, and completely ignored the casting, blade and heart power he released in the roar.

The deformed and strong madman thought in his heart:

"Even a mortal with a strong will can't bear my lion's roar so easily... Could this guy who suddenly appeared also be a member of the secret sect?"

"Yes, although I couldn't capture the specific details of the other party's body, the figure shuttling back and forth in the woods was clearly wearing a blood-stained insane asylum hospital gown, and was obviously a secret sect like us... But why didn't he go to find those hiding mortals, but attacked us?!"

"It's because I've been depressed for too long and can't control it. "Can you restrain the sudden release of the blade phase desire?"

"Even if you have lost yourself in the desire of the blade phase, you still don't forget the skills of using firearms and guerrilla warfare... Haha, it seems that you are a cowardly and despicable colonel believer. I believe that after tearing you apart completely, my Lord will also give you more power!"

The deformed and strong madman suddenly opened his mouth and called out a violent roar. This roar was faintly mixed with a magical word that was difficult for human vocal cords to produce. This word contained a fiery power that was enough to burn and peel off the skin of the recipient.

The fiery power sprayed out from his mouth, causing waves and ripples in the air in front of him, but it still failed to hit the unusually flexible figure. It only hit a big tree, shaking the tree body and shaking the branches and leaves, leaving a bite-like burn mark on the wet bark.

Then the head of the madman who spewed out the fiery roar also bloomed a bright and hot blood flower.

But when the bullet hit, this madman with some kind of beast-like sensitive fighting instinct had already deviated from the vitals in advance, so that the bullet did not directly penetrate his brain, but only grazed his skull.

Perhaps the skull had been shattered by this blow, leaving a deep crack, and the scalp also had a gully-like scar, and blood slowly flowed down and dyed his face red.

But such injuries and pains are not a big deal for a man like him who is like a lion!

Anything that can't kill me will make me stronger! ! !

The madman who called himself a lion roared, and his feet suddenly stomped on the ground. The malicious rhythm of intimidation and threat to death went along the ground and attacked the figure in the forest. Such an alternative walk and words were enough to make mortals lost in invisible fear, screaming in fear and wailing in despair.

But even with such a blow mixed with the power of the heart resonance, it still failed to shake the cunning and flexible figure in the slightest. The opponent's footsteps did not stop at all, as if he was completely immune to any mental influence.

"Even the most permeable power of the heart can't affect this guy?"

"No matter whether it is fervent prayers or words, they can't affect this guy at all... Is he actually a dangerous person who ran out of area 3?!!!"

"But didn't Jonathan say that he would first completely control areas 1 and 2, and then gather all the forces to attack area 3?!"

"Where did this guy on the opposite side come from?! How could areas 1 and 2 hold such a strong secret transmitter?!!!"

After discovering that the enemy in front of him was most likely a powerful secret transmitter with power above level 3, the madman who called himself a lion couldn't help but feel a little fear. Although he was named the ferocious king of beasts, his consciousness had not been completely corrupted by the power of wild beasts. He still retained a little bit of reason and clarity, knowing that the enemy in front of him was definitely not something he could resist now... But wild beasts also have their own rules. Even the lion king on the top of the mountain can't stop the packs of jackals! ! !

"Brothers, we have encountered a Level 3 secret disciple who seems to be out of control at the front gate. Why don't you come down and help!!!"

The timid lion stomped his foot on the ground again, and the words of help were transmitted with the rhythm of the earth.

At this time, another passionate companion had been killed by the enemy's shooting. Even the crazy lion had to raise his arms to block another bullet coming towards him, and then quickly jumped and hid in the bushes next to him.

The crazy lion crawling on the ground like a defeated dog murmured in his heart: "I must be hiding behind the dense grass. The third-level secret messenger must not be able to find my specific location..."

He confidently hid behind the ornamental grass, concentrating on feeling the enemy's heartbeat... Well, the opponent had killed my last passionate companion, and was now hiding behind the trunk of the bunker and looking towards me. , do you want to find my specific location?

"Haha, unless you have a third-level mental telepathy or above, you can't even hope to find my traces... Hiding yourself is what beasts are best at!"

In response to his confident words, he responded with another loud roar.

The mad lion's sworn expression suddenly froze. He lowered his head and looked at his chest in disbelief, only to see boiling blood gushing out from his heart.

"How is this possible?!!!"

"Does this guy really have a third-level mind..."

"He, shouldn't he, shouldn't he be a believer of the colonel's lineage... How, how could..."

There was a crash and the sound of glass shattering overhead, and a man as handsome and majestic as a bronze statue of a Renaissance god broke through the window and jumped in front of the Mad Lion.

The Madman Lion's eyes, which had started to turn black, finally had a glimmer of hope. He stretched out his hand tremblingly to grab the man in front of him, "Jonathan, help me..."

"I have stayed in this madhouse for too long, and my mind is almost withered... Vitality, I just need a little bit of vitality to continue to regain my vitality. I can still continue to fight. I, I can still..."

The handsome man named Jonathan just looked at this loser-looking guy coldly, his eyes full of disgust and disgust, "Shut up, Hammond, your cowardice makes me feel sick!"

"As a soldier, you should fight until the last drop of blood is shed, but you are hiding behind the corpses of your comrades, whining like a wounded puppy."

"You fucking disappoint me!"

Bang - there was another gunshot, interrupting the ruthless greetings of these two madmen.

This time the bullet hit directly at Jonathan who suddenly joined the battlefield.

But the man with a handsome face like a god just looked at the bullets coming towards him impatiently, and he caught the bullet without even trying to hide, and a bloody flower bloomed on his forehead, an extremely weak flower. blood flower.

The bright yellow projectile was not able to penetrate the man's forehead bone, but was embedded in the center of his eyebrows, like a golden third eye.

The blood slowly flowed down, and Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly.

His eyes seemed to be able to penetrate the waist-thick trees in front of him and see the ordinary heart that was beating violently behind the trees.

"Interesting, he is just a mortal."