THE DEATH KNELL-Chapter 51: BIT THE TAIL

Several small black and yellow **** were thrown out of the room and flew towards the crowd. They looked only the size of a golf ball. There was also a button with green fluorescent light on it. Light.

"Boom! Bang! Bang!"

A series of crackling sounds came, and the firepower in the corridor suddenly became thinner. Instead, the gunshots turned into screams. Many of those in black suits clutched their eyes and started rolling.

The powerful flash bomb can not only produce blinding effects but also affect the brain due to sudden damage to the optic nerve, causing people to lose their balance and sense of direction and unable to move. The shock bomb can also achieve a similar effect, but it is through the sudden loud sound and high-frequency sound wave vibration on the hearing. In this narrow underground environment, it does not distinguish between friend or foe.

Choosing suitable weapons is as important as choosing tactics.

After discovering that they had lost their combat effectiveness, Slade Wilson and Cindy would not be merciful. For the death knell, the obstacles in the way must be removed. He immediately drew out his double knives and rushed into the crowd, Cindy doing the same thing as him.

In the pale corridor, the four swords shone brightly and dazzlingly.

With every ray of light flashing, one or more heads flew up into the sky, all kinds of stumps and broken arms flying all over the place, blood covering every inch of walls and ground.

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The choice of fighting style between the two is slightly different. Because Cindy is smaller, she likes to drill around in the crowd, interspersing and cutting formations to find weaknesses and opportunities.

And Slade Wilson prefers a crushing battle, relying on the power of transforming people, and everything blocking the way is split with two knives.

In fact, they can both fight with each other's style, and all the skills are used by both of them, but there are still problems with different worlds and different habits—not to mention, Slade Wilson is a traverser.

This straightforward means of advancing made his heart surge, and his desire to kill seemed to be satisfied.

He felt much warmer, and there seemed to be a lot of strange memories in his mind. He suddenly recalled that he had hacked and killed enemies countless times, and even the expressions on those people's faces were clearly remembered.

That is Slade's memory, which is completely different from Su Ming's memory, full of violence and blood.

When he felt the chill again, only he and Cindy were left in the corridor. Various mutilated corpses were scattered all around. The broken gun was lost on the ground, and even the anti-tank gun was broken. Gun barrel.

"Very well, we are closer to Falcone." Cindy shook off the blood from the knife and nodded in satisfaction. She just liked to use the sword, and the fatality rate was reliable. These corpses on the ground didn't need to be checked.

"Huh... maybe you really need something to eat and sleep somewhere." Slade Wilson shook his head. He calmed himself down again. Maybe it was really what Cindy said—the self-healing factor was working, and his mood was also affected.

And as Slade's memory continued to recover, he was also a little uncertain about his identity. Who was he?

He had the Deathstroke body and memory, so he should be Slade Wilson, so where did the memory of Su Ming come from?

The confusion of memory and the desire for bloodthirsty were intertwined, which made him feel irritable. Fortunately, his current mood could be controlled. Judging from the comics, this blood-thirsty madness wouldn't last long—probably by tomorrow morning, he would recover.

The premise was getting enough food and rest, and Cindy had made a mess of stew before. He had only eaten a few bites, but everyone had eaten the turkey. It originally tasted good, but it smelled like a refrigerator.

But now, it seemed that it wasn't just the self-healing factor—there was indeed some confusion in memory.

Cindy patted him on the shoulder and beckoned to the three people hiding in the back room to follow up. This was a bit embarrassing for Barbara. The corridors were full of corpses, and wheelchair mobility was very inconvenient. She was thinking that if she needed to go in and out frequently, maybe she should replace the tires with tracks.

"Your self-healing cells are messing up again?" Cindy asked him.

"Fortunately, they are all under control." Slade Wilson put away his knife, patted his head, and rummaged through the pile of corpses on the ground to find bullets for the pistol.

"The premise is that you can't get hurt. Once you get hurt again, the self-healing cells work faster, and you are likely to lose control." Cindy knew exactly what was going on with his body. If Slade was like her, then he was facing such a problem: "When Falcone is done, we can go to the hospital to 'borrow' the equipment. There are a few very good doctors in Gotham. You can show them your brain CT."

While she was talking, she was also doing similar actions to Slade Wilson. When she hit the zombies before, her ammunition had also bottomed out.

"No, it's not the time yet."

Slade Wilson rejected her proposal. Even if the Roman Sionis affairs were resolved, it was only half of the progress—far from enough time to check his body. Besides, who else were the doctors in Gotham that Cindy interacted with?

He didn't want Professor Hugo Strange or Doctor Pyg to treat him, because he didn't want to see what organs were missing or extra.

"It's up to you, but it's best not to trouble me in the battle." Cindy shrugged. Since Slade insisted, there was no need to persuade him.

"Don't be kidding, these gangsters are not our trouble."

He straightened up and moved on with Cindy. The blood in the hallway overflowed the back of his feet. Except for Vic Vale, the three behind him—Barbara and Pete—were pale and retching constantly.

It was better to kill monsters on the upper floors. Now that they saw so many corpses of the same kind, human instinct made them feel terrified.

This corridor turned east and west, and he didn't know which direction it led, but he could feel that the resistance of the black-clothed people was getting fiercer, indicating that they were approaching the target.

As he continued to advance and kill, he remembered more and more things. He remembered dozens of bank accounts and passwords in unknown worlds, secret safe houses, and munitions stores all over the world. He started recalling his recent assassination missions. It gave him a headache, but his face under the helmet showed nothing. He just silently followed Cindy.

On the way, they also found a small room with lights on, and the silk sheets in it showed signs of someone having slept there.

On the head of the bed was a medicine bottle with James Gordon's name written on it.

"Um... Falcone also brought your father's painkillers." Slade Wilson picked up the medicine bottle and threw it to Barbara. "I have to say, he is quite caring, Gordon should be safe now."

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