Under the night, two agile figures were moving forward on the roof, and the sparse moonlight was their best cover.

"I saw that the lame guys were there, Brother Long and the others must be nearby." Hei Gou almost stood up straight until he saw the vigilant gaze from the front clearly, and then suddenly woke up and lowered his voice.

Mo Yan didn't say anything. Looking at the dog with a look of eagerness, he didn't doubt it. As long as he said hello, the other party would immediately rush down to save people, but it was meaningless to do so. If Long Er and his group were forced so badly, they would definitely not have the strength they are now.

He hooked his fingers and signaled the other party to come over and said, "You."

The two of them muttered, and although the black dog had a little hesitation on his face, they still left as they said.

Not long after, a tiny light appeared not far from the north of the building, and a faint blue smoke floated towards this side.

With the sound of people yelling from time to time, the scattered household owners quickly woke up from their sleep, and the words in the alley soon became noisy.

Mo Yan still did not take action, leaning quietly on the roof. He could feel the commotion there between twenty or thirty meters away. As a person who was determined to become a tattoo artist, his patience was much more than ordinary people.

As the fire rose, black smoke gradually enveloped the area. Even though he was prepared, he put on a mask and was fumed by the pungent smoke, he still felt itchy in his throat and cursed inwardly, what did that guy that dog added to the fire?

"cough--"

A slight movement quickly attracted his attention. A figure vaguely swayed on the roof about ten meters away in front of the left.

The other party was wearing black clothes, and it was basically difficult to detect if he didn't walk nearby. Mo Yan secretly called out luck. He lived in the academy and was more familiar with the things on the man's arm than ordinary people.

That's a pattern.

In this dark night, a man in black squat laid on the roof with a marking in his hand. The meaning of his representativeness is self-evident.

Tough.

Mo Yan's face changed slightly. He never expected that the other party would invite a tattoo artist to help. For their level of fighting, a tattoo artist could control the outcome of the battle, even if the other party did not look very professional.

He was fortunate to see two tattoo masters duels in the academy and also had some understanding of the battle method of the tattoo masters. In the first rule of the tattoo masters' code, it was clearly stated that the tattoo masters entering the battle must activate the defense tattoo as soon as possible.

At this time, Mo Yan naturally didn't know that the guy in front of him was just a West Department Store. In a second thought, he made an amazing decision.

It is a thrilling thing to attack a tattoo artist.

Maybe it was out of energy saving, or maybe it was careless that the other party did not activate any defensive tattoos, which was his chance.

He bent slightly and pressed against the eaves, Mo Yan carefully controlled his movements, tried to crawl in a shadowy place, and slowly moved towards that direction.

Fifteen meters, ten meters, eight meters

There was only one house away from the figure in front of him, his heart was beating faster and faster, sweat beads between his forehead kept flowing down, and the innermost layer of clothes was completely wet. This short distance consumed a lot of his physical strength and energy.

Adjust your breathing, slightly understand the belt, and pull out the short stick. You are lucky. After touching it, you are half successful before the other party notices it.

Mo Yan slowly stood up from the roof, held the stick tightly with his right hand, and looked straight ahead. The position of the man in black was obviously carefully selected, separated from other rooms around him. The surrounding walls were smooth and could be used as mirrors. It was almost impossible to go up quietly. His only choice was to jump from here to the top of the wall and trot over from above.

"Damn bastard." Mo Yan gritted his teeth and jumped forward suddenly.

Today's mission was so smooth. Coupled with the smoke, the man in black's vigilance was much lower than usual. It was not until a sound came from behind that he realized that the enemy had touched him.

Fortunately, he was not lazy when choosing a lurking point. When the man in black turned around and saw that there was only one person on the other side, a look of gratitude suddenly appeared on his face. This distance was enough for him to launch a round of attacks.

The man in black is naturally not a real tattoo artist. At best, he can only be regarded as a senior thug. He has been fortunate to have received three months of training from the battle tattoo artist and mastered some combat tattoo operators. His real combat ability is naturally far inferior to that of the battle tattoo artist, but he is really much higher than that of ordinary civilians.

Silently recalling the operation procedure in his mind, the man in black raised his arm holding the marks, clicked the activation button, and introduced his mental power into it. A small ball of white light slowly condensed.

The man in black only has half a bucket of water and cannot afford any high-end products. He is already very satisfied with being able to own this first-level pattern called "Swordfish". In fact, he can't use it even if he gives him a high-level pattern, or it may hurt himself.

Swordfish: First-level pattern stone has excellent stability and operability. It can emit a white energy beam, with medium power, medium speed, and three seconds of preparation time.

In general, Swordfish is a first-level stone with a very cost-effective price.

The above paragraph is an official introduction, but the actual effect of use varies from person to person.

The so-called standard preparation time is measured by the ability of an ordinary tattoo artist. As for the man in black, the whole process takes at least five or six seconds from guidance, aiming, and then launching.

If it was a battle between two tattoo masters, this alone would be enough to kill him countless times.

Unfortunately, the other party was not. The corners of the man in black opened his mouth and an energy shuttle on his chest had already taken shape, while the other party was still three or four meters away.

Is it too late?

A strong sense of crisis surged into Mo Yan's heart, and he couldn't let him think too much, so he quickly threw the short stick in his hand forward with force.

"Die, go--"

The man in black roared, his eyes full of cruelty. At such a close distance, the other party was dead.

The light in front of him suddenly became strong. From the corner of his eyes, he suddenly glanced at a black dot flying towards him. He instinctively buried his head and lowered his waist. The whistling sound of the wind flew past his ears, and his mind relaxed, and the light shuttle flew out.

I felt that the white dots in front of me were getting bigger and bigger. Although I made a dodge command in my mind, my body couldn't react in time and could only watch it.

The sound of light shuttle through the flesh was accompanied by a faint smell of barbecue.

"It should be dead, right?" The man in black was not very confident in his low voice. In addition to being far lower than the firing speed of an ordinary tattoo artist, there is also a big problem with accuracy. He didn't feel much in the past. Anyway, someone was carrying it in front of him, so at worst he could not stop.

If the other party does not die, his heart trembles, and the remaining distance is not enough for the preparation time for the second round.

He really came whatever he was afraid of. The man in front of him started again. A look of regret flashed in the eyes of the man in black. He knew that the object that had just flew in, and the attack track had deviated and did not hit the opponent's vital point.

Originally, before being trained by tattoo artists, he was also a good player among street gangsters. The other party was injured. Even if the two fought head-on, he had a 90% chance of winning.

But somehow, the man in black felt inexplicably cold when he was kicked by the other party's charming eyes with red light. In addition, since that training, he claimed to be superior and looked down on those methods of fighting more and more. His skills were much looser. At this time, the first thought in his heart was not how to defeat his opponent, but - run.

Try to the death?

Sorry, let the scum below come, his life is much more valuable.

Logically, he was right. There were some cripple people under him. As long as they entered the crowd, it was the turn of that person to escape.

Of course, there must be a prerequisite for doing this, and he must run faster than that person.

Will Mo Yan give him this opportunity?

If Mo Yan was still awake at this moment, he would probably say no, but his condition was a little strange at this moment. The red light seen by the man in black was not an illusion. His eyes were indeed filled with blood, and he looked particularly ferocious.

If you observe carefully, you will find that his speed was more than half faster than usual at this time, and he jumped behind the man in black in three or two steps, and threw him to the ground without waiting for him to react.

"ah--"

A miserable scream came to an abrupt end, and several gangsters from the Crip Gang stopped a few meters away, with a look of horror on their faces.

"What's wrong? Are they afraid of me? What am I doing?" Mo Yan shook his head a few times, trying to make himself more awake. He only remembers that he chased the man in black after being injured, and then he doesn't remember it.

At this time, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the fire, Long Er and his gang rushed out of the warehouse. Without the help of the tattoo master, the cripple saw that they could not get any advantage, so they immediately retreated.

Seeing a few familiar figures running towards him, Mo Yan opened his mouth to say something, but spit out a ball of broken objects. He felt a dizzy moment, and then he didn't know the situation.

PS: Students who think this book is not fat enough can collect it first

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