Blood dripped on the coffin board bit by bit.

The girl in a coma frowned.

The wound on the shoulder is very deep. If you put your hands on it, you can always feel a warm liquid gushing out of it.

The liquid slowly flowed out of the blood hole, and only stayed on the fair skin for a while, and then it solidified and became blood clots.

The man in a black cloak took out a tweezer from his arms, tentatively and touched it in the blood hole.

Soon, a small piece of metal was clipped out of it.

The metal block has been deformed, and the shape of the original bullet can only be vaguely seen from above.

Use your hands to wipe off the bloodshot that has solidified together, and you can vaguely distinguish the strange patterns on it.

Under the faint candlelight, the patterns are strange, like totems from somewhere, and more like a curse rune.

But when the man thought of the patient lying beside him, he carefully put it down, and the metal shell collided with the lid of the sarcophagus, making a pleasant sound.

However, there is no time to appreciate the sound and the pattern now. The man continued to take out a test tube from his arms. There was no imagined medicine in the test tube, but a pile of white powder.

The man slowly approached the girl's shoulders, tilted slightly, and white powder fell on his shoulders.

This unknown powdery substance, mixed with the wound, produced a wonderful change.

The originally smooth and tender skin, where the white powder was sprinkled, slowly turned red, like water about to boil, quickly covering the skin on the entire shoulder.

It was obvious that it was a chemical reaction that was not known to me at close range on the skin. The girl felt a severe pain coming from her body in a daze. She subconsciously screamed, and the skin on her face was wrinkled together.

The pain, the severe pain, instantly covered the girl's heart.

Hearing this voice, the man paused for a moment, and looked at the girl on the coffin lid with some concern, but the next second, he continued to start the movements in his hands. He knew very well that if he did not continue to handle them, all the previous work would be in vain.

Behind the cold mask, there was a worried look.

The medieval mask, the symbol of the Black Death, and the cold breathing, at this moment, gives people a warm feeling.

His subordinates were moving very quickly and he quickly finished dealing with the girl's sores.

The man once again took out a roll of bandage from the black cloth bag he was carrying and tied her wound for the girl. The blood soaked the bandage, but the bandage was like a piece of oil paper, intercepting all the blood inside the bandage.

A heavy sigh came from behind the mask. The man put away all the tools, reached out his hand with black gloves, pinched the dark bullet, came to the person watching the temporary operation, and handed it to him.

"Is this the bullet that shot Cao Qing?"

The young man asked while taking the bullet from the man in front of him wearing a black cloak and a bird-beak mask and looking at it.

After the man made a pertinent voice from behind the mask, the young man nodded thoughtfully.

He pinched the black bullet taken out of Cao Qing's shoulder, and the young man looked up with the faint candlelight. As the man saw, the bullet had a strange pattern on it. No, it was more like a totem than a pattern.

For some reason, young people always feel that they have seen this totem, but they can't remember it.

After the man carefully handed the bullet to the young man, he took the black handbag and took a step back.

"Plague, do you know who fired the gun?"

The young man played with the bullet in his hand. When he had no clue about the totem, he looked at the man in black who was standing and looking at the girl on the coffin cover and asked interestingly.

The man was slightly stunned, looked up and turned to the young man's angle. He couldn't see his expression clearly, but he could still hear his somewhat gentle voice through the mask.

"Feng Heng."

The man's answers were very short, but what he brought to the young man was indescribable surprise.

"Are you sure you read it wrong? Is it Feng Heng?"

In order to ensure that he did not hear it wrong, the young man repeated it again.

After receiving a positive and definite answer, the young man sighed.

Feng Heng, this guy, is hard to deal with.

When he was preparing for the game room, he used his permission to check the files of the two people because Feng Heng and Nanmen kept pointing at Cao Qing beside him. One of them was a normal ranking, and the other, his data was very abnormal.

This person is nothing else, but Feng Heng.

Like most players who finally climbed to this ranking with their own little bits of game records, after seeing Feng Heng's ranking and game games, they suddenly had similar thoughts in their minds.

Apart from the training of novices at the beginning of the game, the only thing that can truly be called the game is the game [Life and Death Card].

I haven't played before, but like Chu You and others, every time I'm about to win, I'll be blocked by some force majeure factors and have not become the final winner.

It is mainly a mixture of card elements and survival, which prevents most players from turning their minds.

This combination is at two extremes, so most players cannot connect these two different game elements in a short period of time.

For young people, this may be a reason.

However, since seeing Feng Heng's record, this reason has undergone a qualitative change in his heart and become an excuse.

That's right, excuse.

A player who just played the game could actually pass the first game directly through the game that he had not passed. Although he was not a player of more than ten years of game age - the game was only less than a few weeks ago, a player of 0 game age was able to win in such a game.

Either he is too weak or the player is too strong, pretending to be a pig and eating a tiger.

Rather than damning himself, the young man would rather believe that Feng Heng was disguising himself.

So naturally I had a strange view of Feng Heng. When I was notified by the Nineteenth and passed the first level of the game plot by this player named Feng Heng, the worry in my heart became deeper.

concern?

What worries?

What else can be there? For young people, this kind of worry is only how they should face the player named Feng Heng, and what should they do if they are tied in the future.

Under all kinds of random thoughts, the name Feng Heng has been painted with a layer of deification in the hearts of all the players who are ranked very high. They are all thinking about how to face it, and who would have thought that Feng Heng is just a small player.
Chapter completed!