Super Detective in the Fictional World

For these three pure Americans, the bell drums, combined with that clear, gentle four-word chant, are indeed more like an exotic "RAP," rather than a mix of Taoist practices.

But what “RAP” is not the point at this moment, the point is that with this exotic “RAP," the upward rushing Luke suddenly becomes all golden.

Golden light spreads rapidly from his surface, one meter, two meters, five meters, until it stops at ten meters.

In the process, he was still rushing, completely obscured by the golden light.

On Staten Island at night, a round of tiny golden sun rises.

The injured woman on the ground stared and could only mumble “OMG” repeatedly.

And the little old man and the big wave got a little bit of bad luck.

What Luke is still using is that particular fusion energy that clones from Blu-ray bullets, just expanding around his body in a way that attaches to his mind.

As a result, the shadow effect of a small golden sun is the same as that of a blue-ray bullet, with a maximum of 5-10% visibility for ordinary people.

For the two RIPD members, Little Old Man and Big Wave, the shadow effect is 100% complete.

Luke was about to get a big vote, and this golden sun of mindfulness + integral synthesis was pouring 10,000 points into it, and the brightness of the golden light had multiplied several times.

The little golden sun, which is just a wounded woman of ordinary people, can still be looked at directly, suddenly appeared as the big sun at noon in the summer in front of the two little old men.

“Ah ~” they screamed simultaneously, covering their dog's eyes, hurriedly lowered their heads, and shouted “Fako” in their mouths.

But compared to their treatment of temporary blindness, it's definitely much worse for a bunch of ghosts to rush down at high altitude and try to grab the artefacts of the underworld.

With a loud bell, Luke's tiny golden sun struck a black dragon-like death squad in the standard Chinese "Curse to Life".

The relative speed of both sides was extremely fast, but only in the blink of an eye, the grey black dragon formed by the ghost group burst into the small golden sun.

These ghosts didn't even scream and smoke, and they just evaporated.

The rear half-cutted ghosts are terrified, but few can control the faster they fall.

The tiny golden sun is like that little yellow ball in a bean game, growing up with its mouth underneath it and fine-tuning its position from time to time to make sure a string of dead ghosts fall in themselves.

A scene of a bloody but unusually violent car crash took place.

The more than 700 dead get a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get out of the underworld one step at a time.

Not yet, more than 500 of them evaporated without a chance of bubbling in the world.

The remaining 200 or more are slightly luckier and a little farther away from large troops, fortunately avoiding the "swallowing” range of the golden sun.

But without waiting for them to be happy, the tiny golden sun made an emergency stop, bursting into the ground, pulling a long flame of light, and then diving down rapidly from a high point.

By then, the tiny golden sun had shrunk to two metres in diameter, but a thick finger of golden light kept coming out of the tiny sun, and they were like snakes preying on them, puncturing the falling remnants and beating them to the ground.

Meanwhile, Luke also had two guns in his hand and fired a string of golden bullets.

He doesn't want to let go of any of those ghosts who float a distance out in the air, which is all experience points!

Three people on the ground have been completely stuck: what the hell is this?

That black-pressed bunch of dead people, that's it... gone?

In fact, the ghosts are falling faster and faster, and a few react faster and fly faster, trying to escape.

In order to kill the fastest runners, Luke had some leaky fish in the air this time around.

Eventually, the zero dropped to more than fifty dead men and finally fell to the ground, pulling their legs and running.

For them, that golden glow ball was so horrible, it was like eating them like food.

They're dead, but they're not a little IQ free.

Some of the dead saw the underworld artifact erected on the nearby golden trapezoidal column, but none of them went that way and fled.

Is there a little old man on the ground, a big wave, a wounded woman? They don't give a shit, but there won't be that golden light ball terror anymore.

Unfortunately, this time they met a resolute pragmatist.

Luke's North Fight Armor doesn't stand out from Tony's Mark series, even if it's about hiding first, being smart first, and not flying very fast.

More than a dozen flying guys in the ghost herd were also prioritized by him when he returned for interception.

There are also two guys with manta wings in the back that are stronger, one of them even took a beating, and they can transmit the run.

Luke doesn't have the space to transmit, and he doesn't know where this guy is, so he's just gonna have to do it for a while.

Now the rest of these guys can only run on two legs, and they want to be in a straight line with the North Fight Armor, and the result is only cold.

Only three spectators are reduced to true “audiences”.

All they could do was watch that little golden sun-like guy go around a big circle in the air, catch up and blow up all the escaped ghosts, and then fly back to them.

At this moment, Luke is in a better mood.

While you may have missed the contribution rate that prevented the swirl from opening, Dead Head Territorial Haines' last call to "summon the little monster, feed into the mouth” was really sloppy and saved someone a lot of losses.

After all, if he really catches the swirl off, the more than 700 dead people won't have a chance to drill out, and naturally they won't be able to deliver the dishes to their mouths and get sucked into points like he ate noodles.

When he's in a good mood, his attitude is much better.

With his head down, the eye hole in the black and white skull mask of two black holes stared at the injured woman.

“Who is she?” He asked.

The woman's lips moved without a word.

She knew it wasn't a question to ask herself, even though the black and white skull, which seemed horrible and more powerful, was now looking at herself.

Little old man: “She is... % ¥#”

Luke was impatient: "Speak human language. ”

Little old man also hurts, knowing that his words are automatically harmonious again, hurry to change another saying: “She's on our side, not bad. ”

Luke, um, pulled a quick syringe out of his waist, and his other hand touched a bottle of Life One.

Huh!

Ten milliliters a bottle of life, number one, halfway through the woman's neck.

At the same time, the dagger was gently pulled out of her stomach and he took a glance in front of her to make sure it wasn't something special and threw it away at will.

The little old man was terrified and jumped over: “Wait, don't...”