Irving, with her hair combed, walked to the castle door again with a gentlemanly look.

He looked at Song Qingwen with a reserved look, with the smile on his face as elegant as ever.

"Welcome to the castle, where you have everything you want. But if you want to enter the castle, you only need to pay a little bit of a price."

"Take whatever you think is precious to you, and you can spend a night in the castle. Food, wine, beauty, luxury enjoyment, and fun..."

Before I could finish his words, Song Qingwen completely ignored him and walked straight in.

Neither the intention to talk to him nor the idea of ​​paying any tickets.

Owen flashed and blocked Song Qingwen's face, and the smile on his face also calmed down, becoming solemn and serious.

"This... guest! Please follow the rules."

Although Song Qingwen looked not tall enough now, she still seemed to look at Owen with her nostrils, with a cold expression and a weak look on her eyes: "What's your rules about me?"

Irving was stunned.

The next moment, a sharp wind suddenly slashed at Owen.

Owen hid.

His speed was very fast, but his retreat direction was accurately predicted by Song Qingwen.

So, the picture presented in the naked eye was that Owen directly hit Song Qingwen's attack.

The wind knife, which was turned into Li Feng, was cut from it and split into two halves. The wind, compressed into a thin piece, had the sharpness of a sword far beyond ordinary.

Irving, who was lying in a pool of blood, stared at Song Qingwen fiercely with a look of a ghost, and opened his mouth halfway like a fish on the shore, but insisted: "Do you dare to make trouble? Do you dare to make trouble here? You will go to hell! You will be cursed, you have violated the messenger of God, you..."

The voice came to an abrupt end.

Because Song Qingwen had already stepped on his head lightly and blocked him back what Irving wanted to say.

Even if it is the last words and the last harsh words, they should not be said.

The title of the headshot demon king is not empty.

Although remote headshots are Song Qingwen's conventional method, close headshots are equally sharp and decisive.

The reason why Song Qingwen likes to shoot heads is because she is so clean and neat.

There are thousands of monsters in the world, most of whom are shot to death.

"God's messenger? Call him out and let me see!" Song Qingwen pushed open the gate of the castle, then stepped on the plasma on his feet, followed the ups and downs of the music, and walked in.

Behind them, the "white swans" on both sides were still dignified and elegant, with their hands spreading open and pinching the hem of their skirts.

Just like at the beginning, even the bloody plasma on the ground, Irving, who died tragically, did not cause any changes in their emotions.

In the hall on the first floor, the goddess' statue seemed to be staring at Song Qingwen coldly.

The smell of perfume was filled with the hall, and he was tenaciously trying to dispel the bloody smell of Song Qingwen.

The sound of the cello stopped.

The rapid and manic piano sounds came from the concert hall on the second floor.

Some black men in black and black faces, holding various thermal weapons, rushed out of the corridor and corners, surrounding Song Qingwen.

There are also many black people in the windows, doors, and in the blind spots.

A dead end seemed to be around Song Qingwen.

Although he has gained the power of the demon-sealing man, he has become an extraordinary person in this world.

However, the energy level itself is not high, and the upper limit of the extraordinary way of the Demon-Sealing Man is still the same.

If there are a large number of hot-selling concentrated shots, they can still be killed.

"Have you heard the sound of the wind roaring in his chest?" Song Qingwen asked these black men.

Song Qingwen raised his hands above his head, as if he had made a gesture of raising his hands to surrender.

These black men have long been deprived of their emotions and become a group of dolls without self-awareness and desire. When facing Song Qingwen's questions, they are not able to make any answers.

Their thinking is limited to the last moment when they are deprived of their last emotions and cannot answer questions beyond their personal abilities.

However, the next moment, they gave the answer with their bodies.

As they breathe, the air enters their lungs.

And the air, under the control of Song Qingwen, brought a small storm into their chest cavity.

Pa! Pa! Pa...

The chests of the black men burst one after another.

The out-of-control gunfire began to fire randomly in the lobby on the first floor.

However, Song Qingwen avoided the bullets based on the information sent back by the wind in advance and let them pass by without any harm.

Controlling the air breathing by the human body requires not powerful energy pushing, but extremely subtle control.

And Song Qingwen has such control.

Ke Xiaoliang from God's perspective has learned another lesson.

"Control and control every little bit of power, then even relatively small power can have unparalleled effects. Just like a small ball of fire, thrown into water, it will soon be annihilated, thrown into a dry forest, but it can continue into a wildfire that seems to be a world-destroying world." Ke Xiao was moved by his conscience.

The black men around him died one after another, and Song Qingwen walked past them lightly and stepped on the stairs to the second floor.

The first floor is now full of corpses and shells.

But when we arrived at the second floor, the singing and dancing were still peaceful and peaceful.

The blonde singer stood on the stage and sang happily.

The passionate dancers all took the flying dance steps.

Under the light and dark lights, the gentlemen's rough palms reached into the girl's delicate and soft thighs, and the torn red plum patches were left on the smooth floor, allowing people to trample on the willful floor.

The smell of depravity and luxury are everywhere.

The noisy hormones and restless atmosphere make everyone forget the troubles of life.

Song Qingwen casually shuttled through the crowd like a ghost.

Those impetuous and intoxicating things, in his eyes, were just ordinary.

If you have seen the Heavenly Demon Dance of the Heavenly Demon Sect, the Flying Sleep of the Mirror Flower of Lingci's Mirage Girl, and the Frowning Fox Demon of Qingqiu or Tushan, you will become disdainful of these flashy, boring, single and superficial things.

Through these so-called luxurious scenery.

Ignore the delicious food, wine and delicacies.

The twisting slender waists, swaying plump buttocks, and shaking white peaks all turned into white bones and skeletons in front of them.

Song Qingwen broke through this time and ignored some obsessed and crazy disciples of the Demon Sect in the formation.

He was not here to save people.

He was just interested.

Explore this castle and explore the secrets behind it.

It's much more interesting than saving people or something.

There are no irreplaceable disciples, no matter how many deaths are... Song Qingwen will not feel sorry for him.

What's more, death in another world is not real death.

In the casino on the third floor, the original gamblers have been cleared.

A middle-aged man wearing a black coat, combed his hair into a big back and a beard, was waiting there.

He was handed with a deck of cards, a color clock, and a simple revolver.
Chapter completed!