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Text Chapter 458: Residence in the City

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    "Xu Na issued an extermination order?"

    Lin Xiang braced himself and sat up straight.  He knew very well - without some special reason, Elena would never appear here.  after all.  "." The emperor has only one woman and that is Ying Jia.

    In ancient times, between emperors and women, there were always far more individuals from the latter than the former.  In fact, as long as Lin Xiang is willing, the number of women around him can reach tens of millions overnight.  Or like Black Mine Supervisor Stone.  Like Sallerton, he has countless "wives".  But he didn't do that.  For the reason.  "." To a large extent, it was certainly because of Ying Jia, his first love.  More importantly, it was because of Lin Xiang himself.

    Ying Jia is not that fierce and brutal jealous woman.  She didn't mind how many women were around Lin Xiang.  However, it was impossible for Lin Xiang to bring back every woman he liked to the harem. The reason was simple - the physique of ordinary people could never be compared with that of a parasitic general.  The strength of the body's cells determines that the body functions and endurance capabilities of two bodies in excited and wild states can never be the same.  Even if there is a woman who is not afraid of death and takes the initiative to strip off her clothes to cater to Lin Xiang, she will be crushed alive by the powerful biological energy the moment her genitals enter her body.

    The empire has a population of tens of millions, and in Lin Xiang¡¯s opinion, there are certainly beauties among them whose beauty and figure are not weaker than Elena¡¯s.  But they can only look at the flimsy porcelain that cannot be used.  Although he can control his supernatural powers to a certain extent and minimize his wild energy, he is still unable to be accepted by ordinary humans.  This is like a female ant being raped by an estrous male elephant. A foreign object that exceeds the body volume of the former must be forcibly entered, which will only burst the measurable ants alive.

    Lin Xiang is no longer a parasite.  Targa blood cannot transform anyone.  The word "beauty" is even more fragile to him than the inflatable dolls of the old days.

    "An extermination order must be approved by the emperor¡ª¡ª"

    Elena smiled, took a step back, opened her burqa, took out a document with the Tuanlong logo, raised it high above her head, and handed it over respectfully.

    Looking at the sentences written in standard Chinese characters on the document, Lin Xiang suddenly raised his lips and smiled.  His smile always had a strange charm, it was cold, ferocious, angry, and even a bit frighteningly cruel.

    "Raze that city directly, leaving no one behind." He kept smiling, and his voice was so calm that no emotion could be heard: "In addition, tell Xu Na, Heinrich, the sixteen vassal families, everyone  All must die. I want to see a road of death connecting the Imperial Capital to City of Life No. 19. Nail everyone on the cross. Women, old people."  "There are also children, even babies, we must not let them go - one".

    "."

    The city of Uriel is located northwest of Yekaterinburg, Russia in the old era.

    Even in the last century, most of the land here was sparsely populated salt marshes.  Located in the cold zone, the climate is humid and cold all year round. Except for the Weixia season, the soil here remains frozen for most of the year.  The traffic situation is very bad, and many places even use the old dirt roads built in the tsarist era.  Compared with the wide highways of civilization, they are undoubtedly just regular paths made of rammed mud.  However, no one can predict what happens in the world - in the frozen soil state, they actually last longer than the advanced engineering projects of later generations.  Even now, it still has a hardness and stubbornness that other road construction materials cannot match.

    With his hands behind his back and his legs spread apart, like a statue made of black iron, Patrick stood on the balcony of the second floor of the city lord's official residence, staring at the wilderness in the distance with gloomy and cold eyes.  The gold velvet curtains were opened with a slit on both sides, and the sunlight slanted down through them, just covering the left half of Patrick's face.  He is over two meters tall. Compared with ordinary people, he is a giant that must be looked up to.  Extremely strong, his copper-black skin shone faintly under his eyes, outlining the outlines of thick muscles as hard as steel.  The swollen chest muscles squeezed the middle of the clothes that were open to both sides, exposing the curves.

    Twisted black body hair.  Perhaps because he inherited part of the Indian blood from his ancestors, Patrick's hair is naturally curved.  It feels like a mushroom-shaped hat that tightly covers the entire head.  Just yesterday, Patrick celebrated his one hundred and sixty-fourth birthday.  He didn't like the longevity number at all - Patrick didn't look like a centenarian in any way.  He has maintained the strong physique of about thirty years old, and his cells and muscles have unprecedented vitality.  The enclosed balcony completely isolates the entire space from the outside world.  The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, and the sunlight and the heat constantly projected from the sky made this pungent smell spread faster and faster.  There was even a faint odor like human feces.  Maybe I stood there for too long and wanted toA more comfortable position.  Patrick slowly turned around and pulled a heavy solid wood armchair from the wall and sat down.  With this blazing light that was already too dazzling, he silently stared at the big bed behind him in the center of the room.

    That is an antique obtained from the ruins of Yekaterinburg.  It is said that it should be a collection of the Tsarist family during the Old Kingdom.  In that era, "art" could make anything expensive.  The carefully carved patterns, Baroque-style silver decoration, and dark red silk curtains all mean that it is a valuable treasure.  But in Patrick's eyes - a bed is just a bed.

    Two naked women were lying on the bed in extremely weird postures.  They all have good figures, with full breasts, thin waists, and slender, round legs that are extremely alluring.  The skin is fair and rosy, and the lips are moist and shiny.  No matter where such women go, they are the center of attention followed by many men.  Of course, the visual component has nothing to do with words like admiration and admiration.

    I just want to tear off their clothes immediately, press their whole bodies under them, and use the wildest and most arrogant movements to trample them crazily.

    ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? "."Um!  Yes, that¡¯s the word.

    Patrick nodded subconsciously.  He had been thinking about what words he should use to express what he just experienced last night.

    he's drunk.

    Of course, it is not that the whole person is as drunk as death, but the brain is stimulated by alcohol, as if it is placed in a flame to burn, and the whole body is wrapped in scalding heat. It is unbearable, but it also has a strong sense of excitement.  tipsy.  He wants to do evil, want to vent, and wants to find some fun games that can satisfy his desires.  So the two women were sent into Patrick's room.  "." God knows what happened between them, the details of which are difficult for even Patrick to figure out now.

    He only remembered¡ª¡ªthey begged him, and he seemed to release all his strength in the screams.  "." The vagina was broken, the lips used as vagina were torn open alive, and the legs, feet and hands were twisted in opposite directions.  "." Finally, a ball of fishy, ??thick and sticky slurry spurted out from the top of the swollen genitals.  It was like a sub-bullet fired from a large-caliber pistol. It penetrated the woman's head fiercely. With a delayed speed, it roared and hit the opposite wall, smashing out an irregular hole about five centimeters deep.  of holes.  They are all summer people.

    Uriel City is the second angel city established by the Skeleton Knights in Asia.  There is a complete biochemical workshop here.  It is very simple to produce replicants, and these life-like "products" that are programmed by computers to generate complete individuals according to predetermined genes are the welfare of all the skeleton knights in Uriel City.  Both men and women can receive individual objects that meet the requirements from the Quartermaster.

    Strictly speaking, Patrick should be classified as a "good guy".  Maybe it¡¯s because of my experiences in the old days!  He still maintains some special qualities that are difficult for others to understand - he is not just a city lord just because he is the city lord.

    In some cases, privileges are deliberately used.  He would often give simple food to the refugees living outside the city.  Compared with the almost indulgent management style of Lieutenant General Rachel in Rafael City, under Patrick's control in Uriel City, it can be described as "harsh".  But in reality, this is only relative.  Compared to ordinary people, the Skeleton Knight has nearly unlimited power.  They can do whatever they want.  There is no law in this world.

    Looking at the two cold and stiff corpses lying on the bed, Patrick couldn't help but feel an unspeakable guilt - the replicants were actually ordinary people.  They have no evolved or strengthened abilities, so naturally they cannot withstand the violent rampage of Patrick, the nine-star parasite.  Although they are toys, they are still human beings with life.  The eyes were wide and white, the limbs were bent at weird angles, the lower body was completely torn apart, and the dark blood was tightly stuck to the mattress and sheets.  "." Patrick leaned down and sighed longly. The fingers of his hands were deeply inserted into the roots of his hair, tightly binding the rough scalp.

    "Oh, God.".  "What have I done."  "

    He suddenly thought of his dead wife, and the soft and lovely face that always sat in the stroller in his memory, being gently rocked by him, making her giggle.

    In the old days, in the beginning, Patrick was not an American.  He lives in Aguascalientes, Mexico, and is a minor civil servant in the local municipal government.  He has a wife who is not beautiful, but very gentle, and a son who has just turned eight months old and can barely pronounce the not-so-standard "mom" syllable.

    That day, he took the bus to go to school as usualclass.  After returning home, I saw no trace of my wife and son, but I was waiting for a call from the police station.  When Patrick stumbled all the way to the scene of the incident, the murder scene, which was surrounded by yellow and black police tape, left only his wife, whose head was blasted by a large-caliber bullet, and the children's car that had overturned in the ditch on the roadside.

    This is a robbery.  The target is Patrick's son.  According to eyewitnesses at the scene of the incident, a minivan drove past Patrick's wife. A guy with a shaved head and a fleshy face opened fire without any explanation and kidnapped the baby from the stroller.

    The police have repeatedly promised to catch the murderer.  Patrick didn't know when he returned home.  He only remembered that he knelt in front of his wife's body and cried for a long time.  He clenched his hands into fists and hit the ground hard.  It was as if someone had pulled him away and stared blankly at the police officers who were busy going back and forth.  "." His mind went blank.

    A week later, news came again from the police station¡ªthe northern border city of El Porvenir had seized more than a dozen women suspected of carrying drugs across the border.  Each of them was carrying a child and claimed to be the child's mother.  A total of fifteen babies underwent surgery after x-ray examination.  Their bodies were completely hollowed out, and their abdominal cavities were filled with chunks of heroin wrapped in plastic wrap.  All the babies were pretended to be sleeping. If it weren't for a police officer who had some knowledge of nursing, these people might have been fooled by them.

    In the morgue of the El Porvenir police station, Patrick saw his child.

    He is very small.  His eyes were closed tightly, and he no longer had his usual cute smile.  From the chest down, the entire body is completely shrunken and sunken.  Blue-gray corpse spots have appeared on the surface of the chubby hands and feet.  "." It's hard to imagine that someone would attack such a child.  Using the most cruel method, his skin was cut open, his internal organs were taken out, and then several kilograms of drugs were packed inside.

    Patrick rushed into the bank like crazy and withdrew the more than 200,000 pesos he and his wife had saved hard.  He sold his house and all valuable items and began to buy weapons in various ways.

    He knows who the drug dealer is.  Of course, the women caught by the police were not the real culprits who killed their wives and children.  They are just pawns at the bottom of the entire drug trafficking network.  Those who truly hold huge profits and power live in the most luxurious Biejian in the city.  Almost everyone knows that he sells drugs and knows where the countless dollars in his safe come from.  But the police had nothing to do with him¡ªthat man had gone to court at least six times, and the result of each trial was an acquittal.  He has the best lawyers in the country, if not the world.  Under the temptation of stacks of thick banknotes, no one can guarantee whether the judge and police will side with him.

    It was the morning that Patrick bought a U-rifle and prepared to carry out his revenge plan.  A middle-aged man who claimed to be from the United States found him.  What happened next has been experienced by every skeleton knight.  Draw blood, compare, verify.  "." After a series of tedious processes, he placed a huge suitcase in front of Patrick.  He grabbed the keyhole and opened it. There were neatly placed stacks of U.S. dollars exuding the fragrance of ink.

    ¡°Join us, it¡¯s all yours.¡±

    The middle-aged man added: "This is only one-tenth. If it is not enough, I can give you more."

    Money means nothing to Patrick.

    He has only one request - to kill the drug dealer who lives in the luxurious villa.  In order to achieve this wish, he would rather sell his soul to the devil.

    The ants that had been climbing up the chair slowly moved forward on the back of Patrick's left hand, causing a slight itching.

    It also woke him up from bloody memories and returned to the same bloody reality.

    "It's been more than a hundred years."  ""

    Sighing and shaking his head, Patrick smiled to himself, curled his fingers, and flicked the overly bold bug off the back of his hand.  His dull eyes focused again on the silent corpse between the beds.

    He is the lord of Uriel City and a skeleton knight with the rank of lieutenant general.

    He has countless banknotes and is in charge of more than 80 skeleton knights at the lowest level, as well as more than 60,000 clone soldiers with third- to fourth-level evolutionary abilities.

    Here, Patrick is the undisputed king.

    There are not many people he is afraid of - the Nine-Star Parasite is already an extremely powerful existence in this world.  Of course, on top of this there are parasitic generals with terrifying strength.  But they are too far away from me.  Except for those individuals in the Rockefeller family who had suffered sudden mutations, Patrick had not heard of any parasitic generals with other surnames in the wasteland world.

     He has achieved everything he ever sought.  Money, women, a life of crazy enjoyment, the power to control the fate of others.  "

    If this is happiness, then Patrick is undoubtedly a lucky man immersed in the depths of sweetness.

    However, his heart was still heavy.  Especially after the passion is released, he will always think of his long-dead wife and son.

    ??Flies, hovering in the air.  Surrounding the two fresh corpses on the bed, they formed a lingering circle, making an annoying and annoying "buzzing" sound.

    Patrick still didn't move.  Even he himself couldn't explain why. He just wanted to sit here and wait for time to pass.

    The "buzzing" sound is getting louder and louder, which makes the eardrums hurt and makes it very uncomfortable.

    Patrick suddenly stood up from his chair, rushed to the window like crazy, pulled open the thick velvet curtain, raised his head, widened his eyes, and stared at the sky.

    The flies in the wasteland world have mutated.  They are almost not restricted by climate, and even in the cold winter, their shadows can still be seen.  Flesh and blood, for their temptations, are still no different from the old times.  However, this sound, which is exactly the same as the flapping of wings, obviously does not come from them.

    It¡¯s so big, it¡¯s deafening.

    This kind of sonic boom caused by speed can only be detected by the diffusion consciousness of high-level parasites.  (To be continued)
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