“Do you think you’re bursting with humour?”
Dupont looked at the katana he was holding, made of fine thousand year old cold iron, and could feel a coldness in his hand without it ever touching the blade.
Another look at the plain steel made …… bazooka the Prince was holding across the room, and in a glance around the room.
The SUVs that had surrounded themselves and the others were all now standing up with several people holding either RPGs or Gatlings.
Behind them the members of Black Hatchet had by now crouched on the ground with their hands on their heads in a heartbreakingly skilled manner.
“Aren’t you looking for someone to duel, you can fight me if you don’t want to, just pick one.”
The bazooka in the Prince’s hand waved, allowing Dupont to choose an opponent himself.
The corners of Dupont’s mouth twitched as his gaze swept round, and suddenly his eyes lit up.
In an off-road vehicle, a young man with a somewhat thin body did not bother to resist the Gatling as well as the bazooka, but sat there.
“You, just that one sitting there, I’ve been looking at you with displeasure for a long time!”
The skinny youth froze slightly and pointed at himself with some uncertainty.
“That’s right, it’s you, what’s the pointing about, hurry up and come down and fight me.”
The youth nodded in silence and slowly got up from his seat, took out a jump grenade from the side and hung it on top of his shoulder, and was about to jump out of the car.
The latest tactical grenade on the youth’s body, forehead again oozed cold sweat, D*mn himself did not seem to give people killed, right.
Lin Mo rumor is not to treat people kindly and courteously, how come the first shot is a killing move.
“That, what are you standing up for, did I say you!”
Dupont’s gaze once again turned to a strong man of the year on the other side, looking short and holding a small dagger in his hand, he should be fine.
“Says you, that little runt, come down and fight me to the death, pointing at nothing, talking about you!”
A young man in the other car, who was only six foot six, burst out in anger at the words and jumped right out of the car.
Just as Dupont was about to draw his knife, his eyes were drawn to a transparent jar at the young man’s waist.
In the already somewhat dim sky, a glowing green light emanated from the small jar, and even the glow reflected a symbol.
A yellow triangular symbol with a dot on top and three fan-leaf like symbols around the dot.
Dupont’s sclera shrank violently as a shocking thought was born within him, causing him to take two steps backwards.
Looking at the crowd whose eyes grew more and more unfriendly, a look of death in Dupont’s eyes appeared as he plunged his beloved sword, Frost and Snow, into the ground.
With a look of grief and anger on his entire face, he crouched on the ground with his hands on his head, leaving only a misty afterimage still echoing in the air.
“Hit people in the face, feel free to do so elsewhere.”
A bad smile flashed across Prince’s face as he looked at the Black Hatchet members who had agreed to go into an ostrich-like defensive state.
Taking out his mobile phone, he handed it to the skinny youth to record the video, and then waved his palm.
Dozens of big men instantly turned into tigers and wolves and rushed towards them.
All kinds of punches and kicks were thrown, and some of them were even vicious enough to even perform their ancestral stunts.
“D*mn, if you don’t hit your face, don’t forget to hit below, cut off your son and be careful of having a son without an a*shole!”
Dupont’s screams were accompanied by the excited voices of the big men who were like tigers and wolves.
The prince sat in the car with a wicked grin on his face, holding a juicy peach in his hand and nibbling on it.
“Beat him up, Ox, kick him hard.”
“Monkey steal the peach, yes yes yes, down the peach!”
“Flick him cowzi, flick him a hundred times before someone else eats it.”
Under the Crown Prince’s various shameless commands, these cadres who had originally served in the Black Eagle Terrace and had suffered all sorts of hardships were wailing.
They had been walking in the jianghu for so many years and had seen iron branding, nail pulling, and even a bit of perversion playing with tortoise armour bondage.
But this was the first time they had been rubbed like this by a group of tiger-like men.
I guess, with such a refreshing experience, these guys will remember this fond memory for decades to come.