A subtle and sharp sound drifted in the night sky, like the moaning of ghosts, or the low cry of some kind of eagle.
In the desert covered by the wreckage of buildings, a white figure swooped down from the sky, and hot blood splashed from the open wings.
In the distance, more than a dozen figures ran quickly, and their vigorous figures jumped from the top of the building, smashing a big pit on the ground, and in the dust, they rushed over murderously.
"How can you fly when your wings are broken?" A cold and dull voice came from the side. It was a burly man, holding a long chain in his hand, and the other end of the chain was wrapped around a ferocious round hammer.
The round hammer was full of hedgehog-like fine thorns, stained with blood and feathers.
"Baroque Studio's lackey!" Bale covered the penetrating wound on his shoulder, and several irregular bloody grooves were torn open. His white clothes were pulled into strips, and he looked quite embarrassed.
"Lord Bale's strength is not enough to be the patron saint of Alabasta. It's a shame!" The strong man waved the chain, and the round hammer rumbled, setting off a hurricane.
Bale's pupils shrank, and he saw a stream of light shattering the air. He stepped on the ground and dodged to the side.
The wall behind him was smashed into pieces, and the spinning hammer easily cut a hole in the wall. Bale glanced around and saw a few assassins armed with crossbows standing on top of the wall about five or six meters behind him. More than ten silver crossbow bolts whistled through the air.
Bang bang bang!
A row of silver light burst out, and in the blink of an eye, Bale's back was covered in cold sweat. He stepped on the ground with the soles of his shoes, and with a stroke of his hands, he crawled forward on all fours.
A series of crossbow bolts behind him shot into the wall that was harder than stone. On the other side, a black arrow hidden in the darkness, like a viper waiting for an opportunity, suddenly shot out and bit Bale's thigh.
The arrow pierced into the flesh and immediately nailed into the thigh. The triangular hooked arrowhead came out with a piece of flesh and blood, and was tightly embedded in Bale's thigh.
Bale's pupils shrank as he saw an assassin hiding behind the wall on his right. The dwarf-like figure immediately abandoned the crossbow in his hands and charged at him with a sinister smile.
The crossbows on their backs were quickly reloaded. At the same time, they approached with orderly steps. In front of them, the chains and hammers were swinging. Bale's heart was filled with despair, but his eyes revealed a ferocious look. He stomped on the ground with one foot and swung his waist. The sharp claws on his hands immediately scratched open the dwarf's scalp.
There were three bloody grooves, as if the sharp claws of an eagle had pierced three bloody holes in the dwarf's skull. When the claws were pulled out, even the brain matter had flowed out.
Bale was like a ferocious beast that had been forced into a corner. His pupils contracted to the size of needles, and half of his wings flapped vigorously. At the same time, he stood on his tiptoes, and his body slanted against the ground in a strange arc.
"Even if I die today, I will drag a few more scum from the Baroque Workshop down with me. Unfortunately, I can't find any trace of Princess Weiwei." Bale did not believe that Princess Weiwei was dead at all. During this period of time, he quietly returned to Alabasta. He did not expect the situation to change so much that even His Majesty Cobra was killed.
He felt that something was wrong and did not dare to show his face. He secretly investigated and searched for traces of Weiwei. Unfortunately, the "hyenas" of the Baroque Workshop still smelled the traces and chased after him.
No longer running away, Bale, who had the will to die, immediately counterattacked and killed several spies. Of course, he also added a few more wounds to his body. A few colored stone ores sewn in his cuffs fell out.
The brawny man sneered. He bent down and picked up a colored stone ore. His palms suddenly closed and crushed it into gravel that dripped through the gaps between his fingers. At the same time, he rushed toward Bale with big strides. The ferocious hammer shattered the air and went straight for Bale's chest.
Bale broke the throat of an assassin, snatched the crossbow, and turned around to shoot. The bright silver crossbow arrow brushed against the hammer and burst into dazzling sparks. His face immediately turned pale, and he blocked his chest with his claws.
With a grating sound, the sharp nails on his ten fingers were all shattered. He flew backward and fell heavily to the ground.
He tilted his head and saw a pair of dark boots coming into his eyes. A blind bat was embroidered on the trouser leg with needle and thread. Bale glanced up and saw two arms that seemed to be of different lengths. The right hand was obviously longer, but the knotted muscles were in a straight line. It looked like a gun forged from steel.
"Another spy from the Baroque Workshop?"
The next second, Bale rejected this idea because he saw the "gun" raised gently. A dark hole appeared in the palm of the hand and aimed at the hammer coming from the opposite side.
"This is the muzzle of fate!"
The man in the bat hat sneered, his white teeth reflecting purple electric arcs in the darkness.
Bell widened his eyes. He saw dazzling electric arcs abruptly emerge from the musket-like arm, and the entire arm swelled up. A terrifying airflow kept swirling around the hole, after which, a beam of purple light darted out from the palm of the hand like a sneaky, venomous snake.
Under the dim light of the night, there were corpses lying on the ground all around. The moment the purple light pierced through the air and touched the hammer, a black smoke spread out. That was because the hard hammer was easily melted, and the purple light silently pierced through it, leaving behind a perfectly straight and smooth trajectory.
There was no suspense. The light penetrated the hammer and shot out a fingernail-sized bullet hole from the other side, then pierced into the strong man's chest.
An intense purple light exploded, and a burnt smell filled the air. The burly man's expression didn't even have time to change before his frozen face was engulfed by the spreading purple light. His entire body turned into a charred body that had been penetrated by the electric shock.
"So strong!"
Bale's heart twitched violently. Then, he saw the flashing purple light, accurately killing the agents of the Baroque Workshop on the spot.
Even the smell of blood didn't exist. All the corpses were burned into charcoal. Although they were all the dregs of the Baroque Workshop, Bale felt happy in his heart, but he also felt an inexplicable chill.
This group of assassins who were chasing him just now was so easily wiped out. Who was this strange man who suddenly appeared?
Bale climbed up from the ground, then carefully picked up a few colorful ores and put them back into his pocket. Then, he looked at the man and said, "Thank you for saving me. But, who are you?"
"My name!" The deep and hoarse voice seemed to have some kind of obsession with names. He said firmly, "The sixth apostle, my name is Van Oka!"
"Van Oka? Apostle? "Bale was confused. This was a name and organization he had never heard of.
"Saving you is fate's arrangement!" Van Oka's eyes flashed with a touch of black lines. He turned around and left. A faint voice entered Bale's ears, "White Hunter Smoker, now the highest officer of the Alabasta Naval Branch. There is what you want there!"
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