People who were not born in that era will never understand Mr. kesma''s great reputation in that era. He is like a legend, tearing apart the darkness and ushering in the first line of light. Even in the new party, some people still remember Mr. kesma. If the emperor and nobles ruled the day, Mr. kesma ruled the night.


    A huge gunshot rang out. The first of the three new cars staggered out of control and crashed into the street. In the collision between the tire and the road teeth, the car turned over and flew out. A large amount of water vapor appeared on the tree crown again. The simple and honest man wiped his lens and came down completely from the tree crown. The first two can be said to be unexpected, but after the third shot, the other party will come to the door. He has to move somewhere.


    While constantly complaining about his father, he thought about how to refit this weapon, which is said to be a prince''s weapon. He hid in the bushes not far away, squatted on the ground, raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger again.


    A guy who climbed out of the car was knocked out of his body by him. The terrible scene made these people afraid. Obviously, there are only two people on the other side, but they can''t do anything. This sense of shame frightens them. At the same time, it also gives them a sense of reluctance to admit defeat - maybe, if they didn''t hide behind the car body and shoot.


    Mr. kesma is nothing like a man in his fifties. Whenever he leaves a place, he must be covered with bullets in the next two or three seconds, but these bullets can never catch Mr. kesma. He was like a gentleman at night. He danced luxuriously alone in the street. Every gunshot was a drum accompaniment for him, and the XiuXiu sound of bullets flying was that track.


    In less than five minutes, the last drum stopped, and an attacker hiding behind the car lay down limply. He touched the blood exuded from his chest, and a ray of confusion flashed in his eyes. The small hole in the door just reflects Mr. kesma''s "Wei''an" figure. He stood motionless on the road and waved to the bushes.


    The simple and honest young man ran over and scratched his head, "Sir, what shall we do next?"


    Mr. kesma raised his head slightly. "Help me to the evacuation point. I seem to be flashing my waist."


    The gunfire at night alerted many people. The director of Orlando police station was awakened from the middle of the night by the telephone. He casually put on a coat and took the police to the crime site. At this time, many police have protected the scene. Looking at more than a dozen dead bodies on the street, he has a headache. This may be the most vicious case this year. The key is that both sides of the case have no hidden thoughts.


    As the capital of the state of kanles, Orlando is not really full of harmony and peace, as people can see. There is fighting and fighting in places beyond people''s sight, but those people are very rational. They put these places away from the city. Everyone knows that the governor is a very serious guy. He does not allow things that affect the image of the city to happen within the scope of the city.


    If it happens, I''m sorry. Whoever is behind these forces will be uprooted by him.


    But this time, something really big is going to happen.


    The police are busy looking for information about the bodies left after the fire. Only after identifying the dead can they find another group of people in the fire more effectively.


    While they were busy comparing the photos of the dead all over the city, Mr. kesma had got on the bus back to alfalfa town.


    People seem to ignore something, such as doctors in hospitals who have begun to receive treatment but are unwilling to "wake up". For example, a pregnant woman who looks like she is sleeping but is actually kicked into a coma.


    No matter how long the case will be noisy, the participants have gone away. They may find some clues, but it won''t help.


    Two days later, Mr. kesma, who returned to the town, returned home with the help of the simple and honest guy. Mrs. kesma flashed a surprised look on her face, immediately pushed away the young man, personally held Mr. kesma and checked his injury. But after looking for it for a long time, she didn''t find it. She looked at him. He looked elsewhere. After coming for a while, he said with an ugly face: "his waist flashed."


    Mrs. kesma breathed a sigh of relief. At this time, she noticed that Mr. kesma''s other hand was carrying a basket, which was covered with a layer of light blue cotton cloth. The basket seemed to be shaking slightly. Her face suddenly showed a happy look. Regardless of Mr. kesma''s old waist, she grabbed the basket from him and opened the cotton cloth. The whole person was about to melt.


    "Is this little Mr. kesma?" she lifted the thick quilt and saw what she wanted to see. She covered the cotton cloth with satisfaction. It was windy outside. She called the children at the top of her voice and asked them to help Mr. kesma home.


    In the evening, the nursing mother had fed the little Mr. kesma who had been hungry for some time and left. Mr. kesma sat in the rocking chair, holding his beloved pipe and looking at the shining stars in the sky. What was he thinking about.


    For a long time, he said slowly, "these people give me a little familiar feeling. I asked someone to investigate them."


    "Do you know any of them?", Mrs. kesma was a little surprised. He told her everything outside, so she thought she met people with similar faces among these people.


    Mr. kesma shook his head. "No, it''s their eyes, the same as at that time."


    Just when Mr. kesma suspected that the messenger behind these people was his old friend, his old friend had the same headache.


    On the hospital day, Mr. kesma didn''t know that more than one person was watching the battle farther away.


    "You mean a man with two strange pistols and a hidden sniper with a shotgun that can explode a lot of water vapor?"


    At that time, the monitor nodded, "well, the pistols in their main fighters'' hands look very gorgeous, more like decorations than weapons."


    Mennon pointed to the door and told the guy to leave. He leaned back in his chair and his brain hurt. When he knew that Alisha was pregnant, he immediately realized that this was a great opportunity to seize Turin''s little lover and his children. Maybe he was closer to the gold. He did not expect that the first group of people he sent had no reply for some reason, and then he sent an elite executive team within the party to deal with the matter.


    The feedback at that time was that someone had an eye on Alisha.


    This is not an unacceptable thing. Mennon thinks that since he can find out the relationship between Alisha and Turin by monitoring Alisha, those who have not met can also find out. Now that everyone has discovered the secret, it depends on whose means are more effective. He asked people not to disturb each other, nor to have a conflict, until the day Alisha gave birth.


    At that time, if you accidentally kill one, at least one is still there. This is double insurance.


    But he didn''t expect... He put his hands on his face, which was trouble.


    According to the description of these people, it is obviously Mr. kesma and Leighton, that bastard. Maybe it is not Leighton himself, but it has absolutely something to do with Leighton.


    Mr. kesma''s twin guns are from the collection of a hereditary marquis. It is an absolute handed down process. It exceeds the length of ordinary pistols, so that the pistols have a longer range and higher explosive power. It has always been Mr. kesma''s favorite weapon. The long gun that would burst out huge steam should be Duke Willie''s shotgun at that time.


    He wants to swear, and has carefully avoided the guy of Mr. kesma. Why is there a connection in this matter? Who is the damn Alisha, and what is the relationship between the damn Turin and Mr. kesma? Who is Mr. kesma''s family or relative? Why didn''t those bastards investigate and tell themselves?


    Mennon recalled the "shelf post" that once made the nobles tremble. Whenever the Black Envelope appeared, it represented that someone wanted to leave the world. He immediately sat up and summoned his housekeeper, "immediately, immediately write a letter to Mr. kesma, tell him the reason of this matter, tell him that it was our unintentional loss, and we won''t be chasing this line any more, and ask him for forgiveness."


    At the thought that Mr. kesma could kill the enemy as "coquettish" as in the past, mennon felt his eyes twitching. What is this?!


    In fact, everyone who knows Mr. kesma knows that Mr. kesma is human, but in the dark and long years before the dawn, Mr. kesma wrote his own myths with the heads of aristocrats. None of the nobles who received the "rack post" survived. Neither the Duke nor an ordinary Baron could escape Mr. kesma''s pursuit.


    He was hurt, and more than once. The worst one was that he almost died. But he survived, and the noble''s head was placed in the gorgeous gold plate. It seems that in everyone''s impression, Mr. kesma is invincible. He may be injured, but he will never die. Even the God of death is afraid of Mr. kesma!


    When people are in awe of a living myth, he is a myth!


    Including the ambush, Mr. kesma can escape and save Walter. He is an eternal myth.


    Once something is engraved into the bone and soul, it will never be erased!


    The problem is that mennon is not so happy when myths are going to "come" to him and he may become a villain.


    He wants to fix it!