boyutpedia Chapter 294 Testing, Counterattack
Chapter 294 Testing, Counterattack
Chapter 294 Testing, Counterattack
Looking at the bartender who recognized him and suddenly became somewhat stuttering, Sirion could only sigh inwardly:
This is not quite what Mr. "The Hanged Man" said.
Didn't we agree that my image would be rarely seen anywhere except on the wanted posters on the bulletin board? How come now even a random bartender can recognize me?
Because of my act of self-destructing some of the wanted posters with my image, those people at sea actually gained a deeper impression of Randolph Carter.
This really...saves me a lot of trouble.
As his thoughts drifted, his spiritual intuition suddenly gave him a premonition. He pushed off with his feet, and his whole body slid to the side a distance.
boom!
A fist wearing a fingerless glove slammed onto the bar counter with a loud thud.
The entire bar counter shook violently a few times, and the glasses on it made a ping-pong sound, with the wooden board slightly dented where it was hit.
Cyril glanced to the side and saw the bearded man he had just thrown to the ground with his "Falling Spell".
As he sized up the bearded man who had suddenly attacked him from behind, the man clenched his fist and swung it at him again.
Cyril retreated unhurriedly, snapping his fingers as he did so.
The bearded man slipped and fell forward again, but this time he reacted quickly, twisting his body as soon as he lunged out, rolling on the ground before regaining his footing.
"Hmph, what kind of man always resorts to such despicable tactics? If you've got the guts, fight me head-on!"
Cyril gave him a look as if he were an idiot, then his pupils contracted sharply, and his dark eyes turned completely white.
The next second, a burst of white light, even more dazzling than looking directly at the midday sun, suddenly erupted.
For a moment, everyone in the bar was affected by the sudden light and suffered temporary blindness.
Cyril pointed to the bearded man's feet, and instantly a shiny area appeared around him, as if it had been coated with grease.
He then quickly approached the other man, who, sensing the movement, immediately clenched his fist and took a step forward to attack him.
The bearded man, who was taking a step forward, slipped and, due to the forward shift in his center of gravity caused by the punching motion, lost his balance and fell to the floor again.
During the fall, he tried to step on the ground to regain his footing, but the surrounding area was slippery, as if coated with grease. After kicking several times, he finally fell face down on the floor.
Cyril curled the corners of his mouth, stood outside the slippery area created by the "falling spell," and half-squatted down to pat the other person's shoulder a few times.
Oh!
With each slapping motion, tiny electric snakes would shoot out from his hands.
The bearded man who fell to the ground seemed to be having an epileptic seizure, his body convulsing uncontrollably, followed by a burnt smell.
The "electric shock" at sequence level 6 is close to the intensity of high-voltage electric shock.
Ordinary people would be numb and faint under such electric shocks, leaving severe aftereffects or even death. However, for extraordinary individuals whose bodies have been enhanced, it is far from fatal, but it will be very uncomfortable, like torture.
As the temporary blindness caused by the "flash" wore off, the people in the bar were just beginning to see their surroundings when they discovered that the bearded man who had been demanding a head-on duel was now lying on the ground.
His body twitched occasionally, and he smelled burnt and had a strong odor of urine.
In an instant, the previously restless drinkers fell silent.
As regulars at the bar, they knew each other, though not intimately. The bearded man was considered a prominent figure among them.
After downing the drink in his glass in one gulp, Cyril put his hat back on and turned to leave the bar.
Only after his figure disappeared from sight did the people in the bar start shouting again.
"Iron Fist" was taken down without even touching the hem of his opponent's clothes, and he even peed himself. Such a big guy, and he's a complete waste.
"Does anyone know what happened just now?"
"I heard a crackling sound, kind of like electricity..."
"Someone go and throw that iron fist out of the way. Leaving it here is polluting the air and ruining my appetite for drinking."
"Ha...he just collapsed, he's not dead. Why don't you go yourself? Are you afraid he'll retaliate when he wakes up?"
The group of people making a ruckus in the bar didn't notice that two unassuming figures followed Cyril out of the bar.
Outside the dock, on the deserted streets that had suddenly been filled with heavy snow, Sirion abruptly stopped, looked around, and then turned into a side alley.
Once he disappeared from sight, two figures, not particularly tall, emerged one after the other from the corner behind the street and headed straight for the alleyway he had chosen.
After turning twice in the alley, they were blocked by a brick wall.
"This is a dead end!"
"Where did he go?"
call out!call out!
The sound of air being torn apart suddenly rang out, and several thin wind blades left obvious marks in the flying snowflakes as they shot towards the two people in front.
As the wind blade approached, the two people standing in front of the brick wall also sensed the danger and dodged to one side of the alley.
However, the narrow alleyway didn't offer enough room to dodge, and some of the dense wind blades still enveloped them.
The man, who was standing with his body pressed against the left wall and wearing a heavy gray coat, suddenly raised his hand and clenched his fist.
The wind blades that sliced through the air suddenly became chaotic; some fell to the ground, some hit the walls, and some shot off at an angle into the sky.
"what!"
On the right wall, a man wearing a black cotton coat suddenly let out a scream.
His clothes had several cuts, some deep and some shallow, with blood seeping out in a few places.
His luck wasn't great; even after his companions distorted the target and direction of the attack, several wind blades still managed to land on him at an angle.
Because the distorted trajectory of the wind blades became unpredictable, he was unable to dodge in time.
Cyril gave the man in the heavy gray coat an appreciative look.
...I recognized him by his eyes; he's a formidable opponent who can deliver a devastating blow to his teammates.
Gathering his thoughts, his pupils contracted sharply, his dark eyes turning pure white, bursting forth with a white light more dazzling than staring directly at the midday sun.
The next second, his vision suddenly went dark, the light in his field of vision disappeared rapidly, and his vision became blurry.
At the same time, a flaming spear, white and red, pierced the air and thrust towards him.
But the two seemed to be in different dimensions. The flaming spear pierced through his body and landed on the white stone wall behind him with a loud boom.
Immediately afterwards, an irregularly shaped, harmless snowball hurtled towards him, passing through his body and landing on the wall behind him.
"Brother, is there some misunderstanding between us?"
"We're all just trying to make a living at sea, there's no need to fight to the death over a moment of anger, don't you think?"
Cyril turned his head to look in the direction from which the sound came. The blurry light in his vision gradually returned to normal, and then he saw a fist that kept growing larger in front of him.
boom!
It felt as if a cannonball had pierced through his body and landed on the wall behind him.
Where the wall was hit, the white stones shattered, and a large hole with a "spider web" pattern quickly appeared.
The gray-clad man who had thrown the punch saw his fist pass through Sirion's body without any resistance, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes.
The other party did not seem to have been "bribed," corrupted, or had their mind twisted, thus avoiding making wrong judgments.
"what!"
A piercing scream, filled with intense pain, rang out behind him.
The man in gray instinctively turned around, and a distorted, screaming scene immediately came into view.
hum~~
It felt as if a steam train speeding along the tracks had run over my head, and an intense, indescribable pain surged through me.
His already bloodshot eyes suddenly became bloodshot, as if the eyeballs were about to burst, and bright red liquid flowed from his nose, the corners of his eyes, and his ears.
After a brief period of intense pain, he became dizzy and staggered, with only a persistent, somewhat unreal tinnitus echoing in his mind.
Cyril glanced at the black-clad man on the other side who was condensing a giant fireball. His body quickly solidified, and a phantom, slowly floating book was reflected in his eyes.
"I came, I saw, I recorded."
As the incantation appeared, a silver-white two-handed greatsword formed from pure dawn was dragged out of thin air by him.
Pfft!
The "Sword of Dawn" pierced straight through the gray-clad man's chest.
boom!
A massive fireball, nearly two meters in diameter, was thrown by the man in black and exploded upon contact with Sirion and the man in gray.
It felt as if a large-yield gunpowder explosion had occurred, causing the entire alleyway to tremble slightly.
The heatwave spread out in waves, and both the snowflakes falling from the sky and the surrounding snow melted instantly, then vaporized and evaporated.
The man in black, who had just been blown up along with his companion, hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him and the sound of air being sliced apart.
Without the slightest hesitation, he bent down and lunged forward.
call!
The silver "Sword of Dawn" sliced through the air, leaving a clear mark on the stone wall beside him.
Cyril frowned slightly; in this cold environment, his body was somewhat stiff and his movements were not flexible enough.
Facing an arsonist who was more resistant to cold and more agile, he had no advantage in close combat.
"Given the commotion caused by your fireball, the official extraordinary beings will arrive very soon."
Having dodged an attack from behind, the "arsonist" took a step back and looked at him warily: "So how about we each take a step back?"
"It was my partner who used his extraordinary abilities to influence Iron Fist in the bar, causing that idiot with a livid head to attack you."
"Since you've already killed him, that's already revenge. There's no need for us to continue this stalemate."
Cyril nodded slightly and gestured with his left hand, indicating that they should proceed.
The arsonist, dressed in a black cotton coat, glanced at him with some surprise, seemingly not expecting him to be so easy to talk to.
He retreated cautiously, keeping a close watch on Cyril. He paused briefly as he passed his companion's still-burning, completely charred corpse before quickening his pace.
Only after he was out of Cyril's sight did he dare to turn around and run towards the alley entrance as fast as he could.
Snapped!
A crisp snap of fingers rang in his ears.
Before he could react, his foot suddenly slipped, and his body fell forward uncontrollably.
Thanks to the reflexes and body control he gained during his "Hunter" phase, he rolled on the ground once and regained his balance. At the same time, he pushed off the ground with both legs and shot forward.
Behind him, Cyril, who had "flashed" over, had a flash of electricity in his eyes.
"Mental piercing!"
The arsonist's pupils contracted as he lunged forward, and two streams of bright red blood flowed from his nose.
His body, which had just left the ground, instantly lost control, like a runaway carriage, and after running a distance, it overturned and rolled several times.
Cyril straightened up, his eyes once again reflecting the illusory, slowly turning book.
Snap! Snap...
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers several times, and air bullets instantly formed and shot out.
Puff~ Puff~
The black-clad "arsonist" crashed into the corner of the wall and finally stopped rolling, but before he could recover, blood blossomed all over his body.
One after another, fingernail-sized holes appeared on his neck, chest, shoulders, and other places, and his black cotton coat was stained dark red.
Cyril pulled two blank sheets of drawing paper from his coat pocket, his eyes swirling with the illusory pages of a book, and with a flick of his wrist, he tossed them out like throwing knives.