Underground runaway stadium.
The Byzantine dome is like a bowl with a buckle. In the majestic temple-like building beneath the bowl, the rest of the space is delicately divided like a hive, except for the underground league main venue, which has no view of the edge.
Each hexagon is a stand-alone field with dark curtains covering the edges.
At the center of the venue are red-eyed, restless players.
Around the players and the show area, the luxurious spectator seats extend from the second floor upwards, revealing a retro pale brown hue under a bright crystal lamp. Each floor has its own name: “Elder, Sir, Sacrifice, Nobility”, with very different fares for representatives of different regions.
The light floats on the walls, engraving gladiators, chariots, beasts, and the theme of the area--
“Colosseo Ancient Roman Fighting Ground (B.C.72 ~)”
Kansai top shadow. Ladies and gentlemen of nobility who come from all over the Federation to enjoy the deep blue sky talk softly in the middle, talking about the excitement in their eyes.
The waiter travels through the crowd, delivering dark tea, cocktails and a three-tier tower snack, while young people in light uniforms pass by with chip plates.
A group of laughing aristocratic ladies waved to the waiter, who immediately approached him and bent down politely.
“Yes, beautiful lady, now you can bet. ”
This corner suddenly chirped and enthusiastic.
“When's the next contestant coming out--”
The curtain opened abruptly.
The teenager in the white mask walked in, showing a slightly slim body in the warm light of honey and water, holding the arm of the assault/assault/rifle with a thin muscle curve, unusually brilliant under the light when tight.
The girl who was still hesitating to place her bets stunned and quickly turned on the terminal: "Excuse me, 10,000 credit points on this little brother. ”
The girl laughed generously when there was a commotion around her.
“… it is true that his opponent is not strong, but very cute, like the little leopard raised at home…”
“I'm more curious about what it looks like under the mask than winning or losing… if I can…”
“Can I order him a drink later? Of course, the price is not the issue--”
The waiter shook his head with regret: "Sorry, this is the only one who can't. If you want to order wine, consider other players…"
The girl seemed a little confused, but as the lights went out and the center of the arena lit up, the observation deck quickly returned to silence.
Performance area.
Witch Jane took a deep breath and stood at his initial spot, quickly locking her gaze on the opponent in front of her.
Similar to him, the tiger-back bear had a thick waist, several unsightly wounds on his body, and also held a raid/assault/rifle/gun. They are about 100 meters apart, and when the eyes are in contact, there is a blade crossing fire.
He and only one of him can stay until the end.
The opponent suddenly stumbles and growls like a beast who expels the enemy from the land. There's coagulated blood on one side of the gutter, like just biting someone's throat--
Witch Jane suddenly remembered the bloody smell after the curtain and the bitter screaming of the defeated when they were brought back. The audience burst into flames across the street, cheering for beastly gladiators.
As soon as the lights went out, the concert area quickly rose as a walled bunker, overlapping like a maze, blocking sight 100 meters from each other.
Witch Jane pulled her index finger into the trigger, squinting, quiet, and gradually adapted to the noisy sounding decibels on the stands.
Until the light comes back on.
The otherwise empty field of view was obscured by masonry and earthy bunkers. The field of view was narrow and the opponent's breathing was deafening. Both sides were doing their utmost to hide.
Within 15 minutes of the countdown, the bunker will continue to descend until both sides can avoid it. When the stage turns flat - if no one is still targeted, the two players will enter the battle of the White Blade, dying in an empty and narrow space.
There was a sudden shout on the stands.
A teenager who was thought to be defensive - he actually took the initiative one step ahead and pushed across the street with a raid/assault/gun.
The young girl who had just wagered for him looked up: “Very courageous, clear judgment. He must have guessed what happened to the player, so he chose to fight in the alley for the first 10 minutes instead of fighting that lunatic after the bunker disappeared - and so on! ”
On either end of a corner, the teenager and the mad gladiator are touched in two directions. The two men were just a bunker apart and their footsteps were deafening. From the look of their faces, no one perceived the existence of each other.
Until you get to the turn--
The gladiator, who had just torn against the defeated, suddenly burst into an ambush behind the wall and looked fiercely and contemptuously at the imminent appearance of Witchcraft.
Almost everyone is holding their breath at this moment. The gladiators have undoubtedly discovered each other, and the initial balance of this alley battle has been tilted and turned into a seduction and ambush.
Witch Jane did step into the siege.
The girl on the stands was low pressure to hold the scream, and even someone gracefully covered her eyes, and the next moment the gunshot sounded and the gaze in her finger suddenly stuck ——
All were surprised that the first shooter was a young man in a white mask.
Even the field control did not react, and the camera quickly pulled in the opposite direction after the gunshot sounded.
The miserable white mask has a metallic, inorganic, cold light that reveals warm amber in both eyes, yet sparks bright clusters of fire as a result of a thriving war. As he approached the ambush, his loose footsteps succeeded in obscuring his opponent's perception and even his arms were extremely relaxed until the moment before he stepped into the ambush.
Juvenile action has changed dramatically.
The suit lifted a corner because of its excessive speed, and the back waist between the milk and honey hues flashed in front of the lens. The next second is shooting--
Lean, fierce.
The lens was lifting against the teenager's chin, and he jumped like a proud leopard when he ambushed him. Bright and flexible, the emergency stop was followed by a harsh and brutal fierce atmosphere, and the flames of the weather flamed in the eyes.
Jump, shoot, even sniper!
Jomo's face under the mask is also cold and tense, and his warm amber pupils stare at the front indifferently, like breathing into the whole stage light, making people look endlessly--
The stands finally screamed for him.
On the field, the situation has been reversed.
The original prey took away the hunter's identity, and the previous victor was hit in the right rib, and the moment the bullet popped into the chamber, the witch's mind turned.
It's not the solid bullet that Clawson shows are used to.
Once the central axis of the bullet has passed, the head radical resistance is greatly reduced, the initial velocity is high and rapidly decays, the warhead is sharp, the first 1/3 of it is accidentally thickened, and a blood opening on the opponent stops the invasion -
Modified tube shells.
The fierce heartbeat of Witch Jane has finally recovered.
The floating training base ensures the safety of the athletes. The retrofitted tube shell greatly reduces the concentration speed and aggressiveness, causing only 1/3 of the blade in front of the warhead damage, even if there is no lifebay, even if the target is only fleshly damaged.
In the dim light, the bunker has descended from height to close to the height of the two.
Witch Jane raised the gun, this time pointing to her opponent's throat--
The gladiator's pupils shrunk and listened to the prediction. A roll by the bunker could be avoided without hesitation to draw a gun against Kong.
In just three minutes, within 20 meters, the battle of the White Blade begins early.
The heartbeat of all spectators accelerated, including the previous dozen, and hardly any battle progressed so fast. But the development was reasonable, as if everything was under calculation.
Alley warfare, ambush, anti-ambush - Masked teenagers who are obviously not good at melee use almost all of their strengths to break the previously disadvantaged razor-saw battle into a raid.
Even if the last winner's health is still there, the disadvantage is obvious. The masked teenager seized the shelter he had just shot in the battle, and the stray bullet burst with blood blooming on both of them, but more so, he was always a teenager.
The penetration of the tube bomb caused soreness to the witch Jane, but it was still intolerable.
Pain even pushed his logical predictive abilities more alert than usual, integrating snipers/shots/rifles/guns with his arms, and the uncertain ballistics finally coincided with visual judgment.
Bang--
Just chill out.
The green light on the bench is finally on.
The gladiator was struck in the lungs by a shock, coughed a bite of blood, glanced hard at the witch, pushed away the staff support, and fell into the back of the curtain.
Cheering and roaring on the stage, even front-line aristocratic ladies threw flowers, bracelets and other objects into the stage, throwing the plunging autumn waves in the light.
The staff already knows the way, hurry to pick up the valuables and return them, but the atmosphere is even stronger after a few seconds...
The teenager took over the bandages handed to him from one end of the stage, tearing apart the protective clothes that had been torn by the warhead, revealing a thin layer of smooth but extremely explosive muscle curves. The bandage wrapped around the shoulder wound because he couldn't force it, so he had to slightly unwrap one end of the mask and bite the bandage with his teeth ——
Blood, teenagers, guns and hormones.
The screams under the stage came together, and the waiter had to take turns explaining “unable to give his name”, “please respect the choice of wearing a mask”, “unable to provide champagne for the athlete”, “no reason… is the management regulations above”...
Behind the mantle.
The man moved his throat and gently rubbed his hand against the barrel of the gun.
Rabbit sperm caught at will in the marine jungle already had a white tooth.
Five minutes later, Witch Jane's second round was sent to the stage.
Under the stage is like a feast, because the venue is forbidden, no one dares to take out the terminal shooting, but there is a lot of private discussion.
“Damn, I want to give him a monkey! I don't know the name, I have to give you a code name! It's the first time we've seen each other today. Is it for the next game or the permanent underground escape show? Ask for an explanation!! ”
“... how can a bandaged wound be so cool! When I think of the last two years when the king had not retreated, it was the same kind of bandage. When he was faced by Wang, today he was almost cried out by his younger brother. It's like time flies backwards, seeing the young king six years ago! ”
“Looking at it may or may not be around twenty years old, the style of combat is also negligent, the method of shooting has obvious defects, and this is the primary field... I remember when Wang Yi appeared to fight is the elite field? However, listening to you is really similar, especially when it comes to bandaging...”
“Afraid of him getting hurt, I could see him getting hurt and pressing the blood to boil —— ahhh, tangle! ”
The lights are on again.
This time, Witch Jane pulled the front from 5 to 10 minutes. The opponent, Jomo, is a Clawson show practitioner on a C ~ B level, and if it is Zoe, it will definitely work out in three minutes.
But I already have clear signs of physical overdrafts.
Opponents are far more poisonous than Clawson trainees in deep blue space. After seeing the wound on Witch Jane's right shoulder, the sniper angle was abnormal.
Witch Jane even had to switch the rifle/gun to her left hand, suck in the air, accurately pre-sighted and then fired on the rig.
Until the bunker dropped to their knees, the two even lit up their rifles/bayonets at the top of the gun - Witchcraft used the knife's action to conceal them, suddenly shooting and the opponent was knocked down with a strong impact and the green light finally lit.
There was only one final exam left until his graduation.
In the darkness of the mantle, slightly twist the guard's eyebrows and squeeze the right finger joint of the barrel.
At the center of the stage, Witch Jane held her knees, and the sweat completely soaked the little soft hair and slipped down the mask. He had three more bullet wounds on his body than he had just done, and his right shoulder was badly injured after being targeted twice.
But he never looked in the direction of the curtain.
After the curtain, the waiter bowed respectfully to the guard and sent a bottle of water to the juvenile on the stage, whispering a few words.
Witch Jane's eyes lit up and then shook her head. When he stood up again, he gave a slight heads-up to the audience under the stage and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was already a thriving war.
The observatory was quiet for a moment, followed by another round of applause and cheer.
The third test is much more difficult than the first two imaginations.
Opponents have a lower chance of winning than the previous two, but happen to be picking up leaks in the lowest valley of Witch Jane's health. In order to regain strength, Witch Jane had to turn a quick raid into a struggle.
Too much blood loss severely stimulated the nerve center of the witch, initially keeping his mind awake with pain, and by the 6th minute the bunker could easily be crossed by the player - his vision was slightly darkened when he looked up again.
In the first round, he also forced his opponent into such a position.
Witch Jane grabbed the tip of her tongue and forcibly forced her to return to her senses to capture the sight of the ballistics and inadvertently crossed the curtain.
The shadows flashed.
Witch Jane quickly shifted her eyes away, her eyes still cold, and her stiff shoulders finally relaxed.
Someone is waiting for him to triumph.
On the side, the noisy noise in the audience was filtered by the senses, such as the tide retreating, the witch squinting her eyes and pressing the trigger with her hands up and smelling intense blood.
It's like going back to the first knockout of the Clawson show. Hot, desolate, depleted--
But none of this justifies his elimination.
The stress-training scene resurfaced a day ago. All sensory stimuli are eliminated, and will power finally prevails. At this point, a stray bullet came at Witch Jane.
Spike your calf abdomen open.
A light suddenly flashed through Witch Jane's pupils.
Capture, Predict, Strike...
Muscles tighten suddenly, like leopards returning from slump to health. Two shots were fired, almost perfectly replicating the first shooting in the training room!
The enemy should be knocked down.
And then--
Witch Jane closed her eyes slightly. When she opened her eyes again, the noise, shouting and applause that had been filtered returned one by one. The green light lit up again, and the brightly swaying light fell from the dome.
Bright to near dizziness.
He wasn't even sure if it was a training field or a fugitive show, and the big man in his memory seemed to be talking in a distant direction:
“Congratulations, you blew up the yard. ”
Consciousness suddenly returns.
The opponent was pulled up by the staff and made a tribute gesture to Witch Jane, walking behind the curtain. The audience broke out again. Witch Jane grabbed the sniper/shooter/rifle in her hand and the last psychological handicap crossed--
Muscle memory blends perfectly with the gun body, and it seems that he can snipe with precision whenever he wants, and the feeling of the gun is in his hand at all times, or that holding the handle of the gun is the real weapon.
The teenager in the center of the stage finally smiled.
Then he made an unexpected move —— lowering his head and kissing in the chamber. Sweat, blood and guns representing conquest entangle in a violent aesthetic that suffocates beneath the dome.
Before the audience could react, Witch Jane dropped her gun and pressed compulsory insurance. Walk wide behind the curtain against the light.
The light could not shine in the darkness and stood silently during the guard.
The witch Jane fell and crashed into him. The moment she came in, the curtain suddenly dropped, blocking the audience from countless explorations, curiosities, admiration, and fiery eyes.
The teenager didn't stop until he walked in front of him.
The guard reached out his right hand full of cocoons, forced the juvenile to raise his head, inserted his fingertips on the soft hair soaked with sweat, stagnated in front of the complex rope, his eyes as if the next second to tear people apart into his stomach was dangerous.
“I unwrapped it?” The man's voice was low and he was wearing some dull sand.
Witch Jane's eyes lit up and threw the gun aside, waiting for the big man to give him an encouraging hug--
The man's eyes were bleak.
The knot was pulled apart by multiple methods and the witch's face was cool - the mask was removed and his rough fingertips fluttered around his neck and cheeks, avoiding all minor wounds, indicating that his chin was raised.
Juveniles are tied tight, and triumphant heroes lift their fragile necks like unconscious sacrifices.
The man bowed his head and dropped a fierce kiss on his forehead.
Thank you, however, I chose silent x3, zero point grenades ~
Thanks to drunk fishermen singing late x2, X2, Half a Century Innocence x2, Ailyar, Ann?, ignorant, miji jiakjbc, sunai, fish to fish, versatile dictionary, pickled vegetable vegetable vegetable vegetable vegetable, munching song, drunken, mine of Su ~
Thank you, babies!
The little pussycat is fine, he trained it this morning and it has ignored me... Yesterday I was talking to a colleague and he stole a chocolate bean... scared the hell out of me at night... almost regretted it Q_Q
White is also responsible, you can't place dangerous goods in your home in the future! First serve ~