HPDBC Chapter 311 Quinn
Chapter 311 Quinn
Chapter 311 Quinn
Jiang Chaosheng drove the car towards the South China Sea.
Baiyu Village is quite far from the South China Sea; it takes a whole day by high-speed rail and bus.
If you drive yourself, it will take even longer.
"December 1st, December 25th is not far away."
Jiang Chaosheng felt a slight unease.
The note he left for himself said that he would die on December 15th.
Therefore, time is of the essence.
Even so, he still dared not take the high-speed rail.
Previously, he was unaware of his own peculiarities, so he took the high-speed rail and swaggered back to Baiyu Village.
Now that I know, I can't expose myself to the public eye.
After all, who can say for sure whether their opponent has henchmen within the government?
Bie Xixia found himself, perhaps because he had been exposed on the high-speed train.
In short, it's always good to be cautious.
Late at night. On a desolate path.
Jiang Chaosheng had been driving all day and was completely exhausted.
What's worse is that I have a high fever, my head is spinning, and I feel like I'm going to fall off the steering wheel any second.
Suddenly, he saw something.
Two flies followed the car's speed along the window.
One landed on the windshield and remained motionless despite the impact of the high-speed airflow, like a thumbtack stuck there.
A fly—can it keep up with a car?
How can it still function normally under such resistance?
This unscientific.
Jiang Chaosheng's eye twitched slightly.
Beelzebub is back?
How dare you?
He touched his forehead.
He could fight, but in this state, Beelzebub could never be a match for a demon god.
The problem is that if he faints halfway through due to a severe high fever, the demon will dissipate, and he will lose.
Beelzebub delayed showing himself, clearly sensing that his body couldn't hold on any longer, and followed him like a vulture, waiting for him to collapse.
Jiang Chaosheng squinted.
If he faints before reaching the South China Sea, Beelzebub wins;
If he hadn't fainted, Beelzebub would have fought him to the death outside the city.
Right now, that guy is trying his best to wear him down.
He easily guessed Beelzebub's thoughts.
But how did this timid fly suddenly become so bold?
His own condition isn't much better, so isn't he afraid that he might kill himself once the war starts?
The decisive battle outside the city will be a battle to the death.
because-
Different environments summon different demons, and once you enter the South Sea City, the demons summoned outside the city will dissipate.
In the brief interval between the changing of the demon gods, the gates were wide open, enough for Beelzebub, who was fighting desperately, to kill him.
Therefore, he would fight Beelzebub to the death outside the city.
At that time, either he will die, or Beelzebub will die.
The third scenario will not occur.
This kid is clearly less daring than a fly, so how come he dares to risk his life?
Unless he has a new trump card.
"It doesn't matter."
Jiang Chaosheng's gaze fell on the darkness ahead: "As long as I can get back to the South China Sea, back to that antique shop, I've won."
He pieced together several pieces of information from what Zhang Baiwei said and what was left on the paper.
Zero Antique Shop is his;
Due to some unforeseen event, he lost everything in the antique shop, including his memories. He couldn't even leave a complete written record for his amnesiac self, and could only pass on messages through Zhang Baiwei.
His past self wanted him to return to the antique shop—otherwise, there was no need for him to know the name at all.
Therefore, as long as you get back to the antique shop, you've won.
. . . . . .
twenty minutes.
We'll be in the city in another twenty minutes.
Suddenly, a dozen or so people appeared ahead.
Wearing a sheriff's uniform, holding a flashing light and a breathalyzer, he sternly signaled for him to pull over.
Jiang Chaosheng pressed the accelerator harder, a hint of disdain on his lips: "What kind of monsters and demons are these now?"
He did not consider these people to be sheriffs.
Their eyes were bloodshot, their faces were sickly pale, and their hair was greasy and stuck to their scalps.
How short-staffed must the police department be to have its officers reduced to such a wretched state, to the point that they can't even maintain their professional appearance anymore?
Moreover, this is the middle of nowhere, with no police cars and no reason to set up a checkpoint.
Checking for drunk driving?
Who would travel all that way to the wilderness to check for drunk driving?
Is this an attempt to intercept a criminal?
That reason is too far-fetched.
He didn't stop, and the other party stopped pretending.
Several fake sheriffs stood directly in the middle of the road, their bodies began to deform and swell, their upper bodies were covered with black hair, and their eyes were as red as charcoal.
It really is a monster.
Jiang Chaosheng was unaware that these people were his "disciples and grand-disciples".
They have a formal professional title—jail guard.
The jailers of Little Spirit Prison, acting on the orders of the warden, came to stop Huang Hun from returning to the South Sea.
The car was getting closer.
Jiang Chao slammed on the brakes.
"Ziyi—"
The sound of slamming brakes tore through the night sky.
It wasn't that he didn't want to run them over—his urgent assessment told him that the car might not be able to kill these monsters, and even if it did, the car would be totaled.
There's still a long way to go to the South China Sea; walking there is unrealistic, and summoning demons won't work either.
The timing of the next summon is crucial; we can't waste it on these small fry.
Two jailers approached and said coldly as they walked, "Mr. Twilight, we have come on the orders of the warden to imprison you in the Lesser Spirit Prison."
"Please rest assured, sir, once you arrive at Little Spirit Prison, you will have everything except freedom."
This was a compromise solution devised by Zhongshu.
Detaining Jiang Chaosheng would neither be considered disobeying the new manager's orders, nor would it prevent Huang Hu from dying.
Jiang Chaosheng didn't waste any words with them; his brain was racing in his drowsy state.
Just then, a clear voice in Xia language rang out: "Go your way. I'll cover your retreat."
Jiang Chaosheng and the jailer both looked back at the back of the car.
A bald man wearing a black robe and a mask emerged from the darkness.
He twisted his left hand irregularly, and a thread of mental energy visible only to extraordinary individuals was pulled out from the trailer at the rear of the vehicle and returned to his palm.
Puppet Master.
Half a month ago, Yang Xiao begged him to come to Xia Kingdom to protect Hunhun.
Have you witnessed the terrifying combat power of Twilight during this period?
It doesn't matter, none of that matters. What matters is my brother's entrustment.
Even if he were still a small-time hoodlum, if his brother asked him to protect the king, he would not hesitate to grab a dagger and charge into the fully armed army.
Before becoming a messenger of hell, the puppeteer was a gang leader in the neighborhood.
For puppeteers, the club is important, but the foundation of the club is brotherhood, and brotherhood is the most important thing. Yang Xiao calls himself the boss.
Even knowing that anything related to dusk is never simple, and that this trip is fraught with danger.
But it still came, like a praying mantis trying to stop a chariot.
The puppeteer walked to the carriage, patted the roof, and glared menacingly at the guards: "Someone sent me to protect you. Come on, I'll take care of things here."
The puppeteer didn't care how terrifying Twilight was, so he didn't receive any honorifics.
If he could weigh the pros and cons, he wouldn't have come here to court death.
Jiang Chaosheng glanced at him: "If you survive, come find me at Zero Antique Shop. I'll make you rich for life."
The puppeteer grinned: "If it were for wealth and status, I wouldn't have come."
Leave this sentiment to Yang Xiao. Enough talk, let's go.
Jiang Chaosheng gave him a deep look, stepped on the gas, and the car roared off.
Several jailers tried to stop them, but their hands and feet were bound by several strands of spiritual energy.
The puppeteer held them with one hand and removed his own mask with the other.
Beneath the mask, his face was muscular and covered in scars.
But... it's clearly a woman's face.
Ugly, fierce, bald, with a rough voice, it's hard to imagine that this is a woman.
"I can smell it, we're all brothers from hell, aren't we?"
She said coldly, "Then stop hiding your true intentions and fight to your heart's content!"
The jailers roared like wild beasts, some transforming into orcs, others sprouting multiple thick arms.
The puppeteer also let out a terrifying roar, and threads of mental energy shot out like a spider web.
Ten minutes later.
. . . .
The jailers collapsed to the ground.
Some were on the verge of death, some were struggling in pain, and some were stiff and motionless.
The puppeteer, covered in injuries, squatted on the ground, panting heavily.
The leader of Group Thirteen, a top member of the Dark Council, has experienced countless battles against strange ghosts, making him far more experienced than these jailers who only arrest ordinary people.
Even so, she was exhausted.
"I'm fucking a workaholic."
She straightened up, trying to steady her breathing: "But who told you to call me boss?"
Just as I was about to leave, I heard unfamiliar footsteps.
The puppeteer suddenly looked to the side.
The eye with the horizontal scar was fixed on the man emerging from the jungle—
He wore a black suit, had solid muscles, and slicked-back hair. He exuded a powerful aura, like a thug in a suit.
What's most shocking is his eyes:
A clock was reflected in his pupils, the hour hand pointing to three o'clock.
The man's aura was terrifyingly strong.
Compared to him, I am not even in the same league.
The newcomer gave her a deep look: "I'm sorry, but to buy some more time for Hunhun, I have to kill you."
The puppeteer rudely spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm at him: "Stop talking nonsense."
"I admire loyal and righteous people," the man said. "Tell me your name."
The puppeteer raised his hands, and instantly unleashed strands of mental energy: "Quinn."
The person did not move.
However, the sudden burst of his aura shattered those threads into dust.
He cracked his knuckles, a terrifying killing intent flashing in his eyes: "Little Spirit Prison, Chief Inspector of the Prison Guards—Li Xinyuan."
The next second, Li Xinyuan appeared in front of Quinn like lightning and raised his fist.
Quinn quickly crossed his arms and used his mental energy threads to block.
"boom!"
After the loud bang, Quinn's muscular body was blasted away like a fragile wildcat.
Pain, pain all over my body.
I can't stand up anymore, and I don't know how many fractures I have.
Quinn gazed at the waning moon in the night sky, his eyes gradually turning red with his own blood.
dying.
She had only one thought left in her mind.
If I die in Xia Kingdom, will someone take me back to Meiqi Kingdom?
It is forbidden to hold a sacrifice in the Xia Kingdom.
The sacrificial ceremonies in the Xia Kingdom were extremely expensive.
The waning moon was obscured, and what appeared was that terrifying guy named Li Xinyuan.
What happened to the promise that there were no extraordinary beings in the Xia Kingdom?
How come the people I've encountered along the way are all so fierce?
Li Xinyuan had already raised his foot, seemingly intending to crush his own head.
Quinn closed his eyes.
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