Chapter 274： Poor Hercules

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"Who...Where is? You... Are you a human or a ghost?" Hercules felt a little creepy looking at the empty, half-human vision.

"Hey..." Maybe the other party has played enough, or in response to his question, a light and shadow flashed in the corner near the floor-to-ceiling window, a soft armor covered his body, holding a spear in his right hand, and a devil mask on his face. The person appeared in front of him.

A green laser shot from the right eyepiece, sweeping Hercules' bewildered face.

"Are you Hercules?" The cold voice, without the slightest emotion, was like a bloodthirsty demon in hell.

Hercules almost nodded, "You...what are you?"

Without answering, he took two steps forward, facing the fearful gaze of the gang boss, squeezed his throat, twisted his body, and walked out quickly like a dead dog.

Hercules struggled desperately, however, all his efforts were in vain. The stranger's hand was like an iron hoop, tightly gripping his neck, feeling suffocating, but not strangling him to death.

He weighs more than 200 kilograms, but in his hands, it is extremely light. Hercules was like relived a childhood bumper car, met around the corner, went downstairs, and the horrible howling was never stopped.

However, it is a pity that they are not gentlemen who pity and cherish jade, nor are they kind-hearted civilians. They are a group of ruthless, cold, mission-first ghost agents who do everything.

Therefore, the fat man suffered all the way, to the front hall downstairs, there were already more than ten bruises all over his body, especially a pair of fat buttocks covered with fat, swollen all over. Of course, if there were no bed battles, no beasts and beauties, no live show of love action movies, he wouldn't end up like this.

When passing the front door, Hercules noticed from the corner of his eye that a dozen strong men were standing upside down in the yard, and those were his bodyguards. It can be seen from the wounds on their bodies that these people were cut off by the other side.

Until he walked out the door, Hercules did not find the accomplices of his captors. One person, only one person, killed more than a dozen bodyguards without knowing it. Who is he? Whose subordinates are they? With such equipment and such skill, Rector can't find one person, right?

Clamping Hercules' neck and dragging it all the way, about a few minutes later, he came to the road outside the villa.

Finally, the guy's footsteps slowed down, and then, Hercules only felt slightly lighter, and with a "thump", he lay down on the dirty road.

"The goal has been brought, the task is complete." The voice is still so cold, without any emotion.

Tang Fang nodded in satisfaction and waved to indicate that he could retreat.

The reason why the ghost agents were allowed to act alone this time was actually because they wanted to understand more deeply. Sure enough, he lived up to his expectations. In just a few minutes, more than 30 people in the entire villa security system were silently killed, and Hercules was successfully captured.

Sure enough, he lives up to the name of an elite agent, and has a very high combat talent in infiltration, assassination, spying, secret infiltration, and sabotage behind enemy lines. It's just that these guys are so cruel and ruthless. They don't understand pity or mercy, and a woman like Miranda who has no power to restrain her, also shot her beautiful face without hesitation.

But think about it carefully, as a hidden troop that often performs special tasks, it should be so. The lion fights the rabbit, but also has to show all the strength. For people like them, feelings are purely superfluous.

"You...who are you?" Before Tang Fang could question, Hercules spoke first.

As a gangster, he must be ready to face death at all times. Hercules is old and old, but the fierceness of the early years is somewhat left. The four men in front of him were all wearing power armors of unknown models, and the guy who killed his entire security team by himself was their subordinate.

In the face of such a force, he seemed to be a lamb, well, a red fruit lamb with a bare butt.

Not long ago, he stripped off the clothes of women who tried to resist him, ravaged them hard, even scratched their proud pretty faces, or threw them into the dung pond to see them struggling like white maggots.

Once upon a time, he stepped on the foreheads of many luminous masters to make them call his grandfather, and even drank his urine, then took pictures and sent them to their families, parents, and even children. Of course, it is also a good choice to **** their sisters, wives, or even stab their daughters who are a few years old in front of them.

Beaten? Shot? Compared with these, what counts? It is easy to kill a person, but trampling on their dignity and conquering their hearts is the most pleasant thing.

This is the gang, the gang under the umbrella of the government, a real, brutal, cold-blooded, dark existence. Believe it or not, the darkness is there, it has not changed or disappeared for thousands of years.

They are well-dressed in front of them, with gold chains and gold watches, big golden fingers, and beautiful women. They have short, flat-headed hair that looks very "spiritual," or big bald heads that can be used to reflect people. They call officials brothers and sisters, and they talk to the rich about alcohol.

Everything is so glamorous, so colorful, but they have a dark and evil "feeling" that is dark enough to cover the sun, the moon, and the smog. This evil hidden under the skin is more ferocious than the demons of **** ~ www.novelhall.com ~ more insidious than the ghosts of purgatory.

The demons are coming, and the ghosts are here. People can still take up the swords in their hands and fight with courage, but...when facing the gangsters, what should they use to fight? Are people indifferent?

Therefore, the Hell Demon Realm has never disappeared. It has always been there, settled in the hearts of some people, eroding this society bit by bit.

In many cases, the so-called loyalty and righteousness are nothing but spiritual opium given by the devil. This is the same as the benevolence and love of the gods, except that the demons are smarter. They have learned to "curve to save the country"!

In this regard, Hercules has done a good job, using those distorted "loyalty and righteousness" to develop power, achieve self, and gain the life of a master, while also spreading "evil". Who said that dealing with the devil would be calculated? Look at him, look at the celebrities, the upper class.

It is always easier to make an equivalent exchange with the devil than to wait for the salvation of the Lord God. Therefore, Hercules fell into the arms of the devil without hesitation. Although he is an out-and-out Arab descendant, even his name suffix is ​​a servant of God, but he never prays, let alone the so-called God. rs

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