Chapter 76 Chapter 76 Destroy an enemy with one shot

Before the door of building G was completely closed, Du Phillips slammed it open.He rushed onto the snow-covered sidewalk, smoke and flames streaming from behind him.He rolled on the ground, then two more, and stood up.The fire was extinguished, and his jacket smelled of burnt chemical fibers. He was there again, the murder scene.There, when another massacre is about to be committed, he casts aside all feelings, emotions, and moral standards.He was no longer Du Phillips, he was a staff sergeant, a death machine that had taken countless lives. Du crouched on the ground and raised his .45 caliber revolver, the hand holding the gun remained motionless, as calm as a surgeon performing a craniotomy.You can see everything, the dead branches covered with snow in winter, the icy icicles on the pines and shrubs, every car, every wheel, every license plate number, every footprint covered in slush.Police dot the place here and there like dark blue alligators roosting on the banks of the river.Three gray pickup trucks roared towards him one after another, one from his right, one from his left, and one not far from the lunatic who was hopping on one foot and bleeding profusely.

Darcy hopped across the parking lot, knowing he had nowhere to go, and began a desperate sprint for freedom.He appeared to notice the police car and slowed down.Darcy stopped and turned around.With a hint of despair and optimism like a lunatic, he jumped on one foot in Du's direction. A distorted face appeared in Du's field of vision, showing a look of rage, pain, panic and disgust.This strong man ran forward violently, huge and terrifying, even from a long distance, every muscle on his body could be seen twisting.He hopped on his right leg, which was bloody and bloody, and he jumped a long way with every bounce.His left leg was limping and dangling on the other side, moving up and down in unison with his right leg.He suffered third-degree burns to his right arm.All the hair was burned off, leaving only a black-burned scalp and transparent blisters on the forehead.On his chest was a long stream of black mucus that appeared to be coming from a softball-sized purple wound on his left collarbone.

Blood dripped down his legs and gushed out of what should have been a dick. The more terrifying nightmare than all these is his face and eyes, his eyes are cold and panicked, very much like the expression of a wild animal when it is being chased by a predator and fleeing in panic.The mouth is open, not knowing whether it is a growl or a scream, and the lips move up and down to reveal the jade-like teeth, which are white and shining in the morning sun. All of this was seen by Du in less than two seconds.In an instant, all the details came into view like the embossed characters on the copper nameplate.

That look, that expression, was very much like Brubaker, very much like the man who killed Malcolm. It only takes one bullet and Darcy's brains will burst.Someone had to pay for Mal's death, and the crazy bastard just happened to be able to pay his debts. Du takes aim at the smiling psycho...but he remembers his mission. He lowered his arm and pulled the trigger. The bullet went into Darcy's shoulder, sending him spinning like a rag doll.He did almost a complete full circle before he hit the ground, and the steaming blood poured out instantly, melting the grimy snow on the driveway.The map fell to the ground.

Du put down his weapon and ran forward.But he stopped immediately.He looked at Darcy in disbelief, and he struggled to get up, standing on one foot.His expression remained unchanged, he was not someone who gave in easily, neither surprise nor dying struggle could be seen in the distorted expression on his face.Big muscles twisted, eyes wide open, and a crazy smile hung on the corner of his mouth, Darcy started to rush towards Du. Du raised the revolver, and all he had to do was pull the trigger, shoot somewhere, and the kid would never get up again. "What a tough bastard." Du said calmly, before pulling the trigger.

The bullet hit Darcy's knee, the knee that ended his football career.The once injured patella burst into powder, the bullet pierced the cartilage tissue, ejected from the femur, and whizzed out from the back of the leg with a mist of blood foam. Perry is devastated.He fell face down, landing hard only a few feet away from Du.This time he didn't get up again.He stared at Du, panting heavily, with a crazy and terrifying smile on his face. He still held his cock in his fist. Du lightly stepped on the burning map and picked it up, still pointing the gun at Darcy's smiling face.Du looked at the map, and there were several places burned through, but the red line from Ann Arbor to Wagamega was still very eye-catching.

It has a strange pattern drawn on it.Du looked at Darcy—there was another identical pattern, carved into his arm, with scabs growing on it, but bleeding was still oozing in several places. Du held up the map so Darcy could see it. "What is this?" Du asked, "What the hell do you want to do in that town, you bastard? What does this pattern mean?" "Someone's knocking," Perry whispered softly. "Someone's ringing. Do me a favor, open the door and let them in."