Restricted Doomsday Syndrome Chapter 672: Sprint in the air II

I smashed thirteen fighters all the way along the route formed by the invisible passage, and jumped to the location of the file on the last "Spitfire". At this time, in order to avoid a "Spitfire" that turned directly like a suicide attack, the file was inserted into the wing of the gear gap, and had to rush out toward the side where I left.

She wiggled her legs and was about to fall in a low-hanging arc, and at this moment, I leaped to her side and held her waist. The time of this world finally turned normally again, and all the slow movements became rapid and intense again. The gust of wind, flames, and debris from the explosion passed through the gear gap and gushed from the top of our two heads. Behind me, the "Spitfire" that was cut open in a short breathing time, stalled unanimously, and slid to the west in a spinning direction.

"You did it? In such a short time?" The file also saw this scene, and shouted in my ear, "Praise the **** of shit, you are more powerful than King Kong."

"You did a good job, and solved three of them." I yelled too, shaking my hands and slinging out the hook, climbing on the edge of another lever, and swaying in the whistling wind.

With the help of swinging power, we jumped onto a barbed wire promenade and ran along the promenade. Above us, the "fire-breathing" team that was originally divided into two lanes, and the "fire-breathing" side of the middle road that was not wiped out by us Turn the fuselage and dive down, and continue to come straight to us. I took the file and jumped out of the barbed wire promenade again, throwing out the hook again, and the "fire-breathing" bullet hit the barbed wire promenade, either hitting the wire and splashing sparks, or being knocked when passing through the mesh. The trajectory was crooked, and in short, none of the shots could hit us. These barbed wire corridors seem fragile. Walking up there is a kind of flexibility that makes people fearful, but in fact, it is also protected by "mystery". These "fire-breathing" attacks were not interrupted even by a wire. Taking advantage of this emptiness, the file and I jumped to a lever further down. These huge gears and levers are constantly moving, but the speed is not too intense. Where we settled, just the tooth surface is ten square meters in size, like a platform that keeps rotating.

These creations of the ideological world, because they are too large and too heavy, are not dangerous. We run on these platforms, whether gears, levers, iron stands, or wire fences, there is always a suitable place to stay. Even if you jump out of the gap between these structures, you don't need to worry about falling directly below the endless. The length of the hook can always catch a certain object on the way down. At first, I just followed the instinctive use of this approach, but I quickly noticed this.

Those "Spitfire" fighters are chasing us like crazy dogs. If there is no suitable location, they can't kill them in large numbers. They seem to have the ability to think, and they have been around us since then. Maintaining the attack distance, and within this distance, the file and I cannot directly damage it. The file and I walked swiftly in the air, while relying on the surrounding creations and speed to resist the "fire-breathing" attack, while looking for suitable opportunities.

Using quick-sweeping superpowers can achieve faster speeds than these "fire-breathing", but whether they can really be thrown away is still unknown. File and I have to assume that these things like the "immune system" can perceive our position anywhere. It's not a good way to use quick-sweeping superpower to sprint upwards. After all, in this conscious world, gravity still exists, and the gear mechanism is huge. But the distance between each other is mostly much longer than the length of the hook cable. When jumping down, you can use the hook cable to climb something after falling a certain distance. However, standing in place, it is difficult to shoot the hook cable. On the creation above.

Climbing upwards, there are numerous obstacles, even if you have the speed-sweeping super power, there is no guarantee that you can enter our attack range before the "fire-breathing" reacts. And trying to repeat the results of the last time with the help of geographical advantages also requires some luck. Therefore, facing the chase of "Spitfire", the file and I can only be in a passive dodge state most of the time. But it's not always the case to say that they are downwind, because their attacks seem to be fierce and dominate, but they can't do anything to us. I didn't feel tired in the process, and there was almost no pressure to dodge their attacks. I didn't need to think, but just acted instinctively. If I could time it, I don't think it would be a problem even if it lasts for three days and three nights.

Among the jagged and huge metal creations, apart from the need to dodge the "spitfire" that has been chasing overhead, we are still looking for other people involved in this conscious world, such as Father Xi Sen. Everyone’s “mystery” has advantages under certain circumstances and an environment that is not conducive to full play. To deal with these non-stop “spitfires” like swimming fish, Father Xi Sen’s air pressure control is undoubtedly the best. One of the best superpowers, if the superpowers of Father Xi Sen can still exist in this world of consciousness. However, although the magic pattern of the file has disappeared and can only fight in the form of a relatively ordinary super mercenary, I still feel that if it were Father Xi Sen, it would definitely not be like a file.

Not only Father Xi Sen, but also Long Aotian and Chubby, the guys who originally possessed and even accustomed to walking with consciousness can also maintain their original combat capabilities, and even perform stronger than in the normal world. strength. As long as you find these guys, the trouble entangled us at this time will no longer be trouble. I don't think that these weird "spitfires" will treat those guys as friends and discuss them carefully. If these "fire-breathing" really exist in this ideological world like the "immune system", then the "outsiders" involved here will inevitably be labeled as "viruses" without discrimination.

Unless, the 51st District has really found a way to control this ideological world to a certain extent.

In any case, the people who find the Fifty-First District Alliance will not be worse than what they have experienced now. Of course, the best case I hope is that we directly hit the big luck and find the core of this ideological world.

I once hoped that "Maria's Necklace" could guide us in this conscious world. This necklace exists in the boundary line and the normal world. However, I did not find its existence in myself in this conscious world.

The quark has been circling far away in a state of "not being noticed". Just like a satellite, project a larger range of dynamics into my perception. I don't know why it can be alone, but it is better than being chased by the "fire-breathing" like us.

"Here again." I said to the file in my arms. In the distance, the quark saw more fighters. These fighters are somewhat different from the Spitfire in shape. But it is also a classic propeller machine from World War II. This time, the fleet was even larger, and it gathered far beyond the scope of observation capabilities for a while. If you were to observe with all your heart, you can only describe it as "the field of view is squeezed." Hundreds of thousands of planes are like those large-scale migrating birds in the animal world. Looking at them from a distance, the closer they are. The more people feel suffocating.

The file is speechless. Even the "mysterious" mercenaries have experienced the most dangerous battlefields. However, such a large-scale fighter group battle has almost disappeared after World War II, let alone. Relying on two people to fight against them-this is simply that it has never appeared in human history. No one has ever wanted to be crazy. Moreover, in the ideological world, these "mysterious" blessed fighters are definitely more powerful than normal fighters, even if they are just classic fighters from the World War II era.

"I really want to say, I feel desperate." The file said very seriously, "but. I can't tell, so I'm probably crazy."

"This number is too dangerous. We will be besieged." I said. Prior to this, the first batch of "Spitfire" brigade had tried to encircle us, but their number, the surrounding complex environment, and my ability to move prevented them from completely blocking all our routes of action. but. If the second batch of fighter groups are added, a complete blockade of us is likely to become a reality.

If they still can't do it, maybe more fighter groups will arrive. I don't know how many such fighter groups can be produced in this ideological world. I don't know whether this ideological world has an "immune system" other than the fighter group. However, the current situation is enough to be called a crisis.

If I were still a prosthetic body, the file can also use static super powers. We can counterattack these fighter groups, but now it is useless to say that.

"Hold me tight, I'm going to speed up." I said to the file. When the body felt like being held tightly by her, I activated the speed-sweeping super power to form an invisible passage that descended rapidly, and plunged straight down. In this invisible channel, even if I am in the air without any leverage, there is still a force that pushes me. I am accelerating all the time, and I no longer need to use the hook cable as a buffer, lest my body fall too high and turn into meat sauce, because none of the creations that this invisible passage has climbed is in line with the path of our fall. Right-angled. The invisible passage spans between the platforms, corridors, and gear mechanisms. After rubbing their surfaces, they change a tiny angle, enough to allow us to fall into the next long gap.

I, like a martial arts master in the movie, perform light work, drifting on the surface of objects vertically up and down, and will not stay in any place where I can stand. Just a few breaths completely out of the attack angle of the fighter group, bullets hit the top of our heads, have been chasing our tracks, but the splashing sparks are quickly pulling us away. The adjustment of the attack direction of these fighters has begun to fail to keep up with my movement speed.

We are falling faster than the meteors. The Spitfire fleet seems to realize that our attacks can no longer interfere with us, completely stop the attack, roll over the wings neatly, and follow it like a stall. Dive. Even so, the relative position between them and us is still getting further away, and the huge group of fighters farther away is gradually getting away from the range of perception. The quark needs to stay within a certain distance from me. My acceleration also means its acceleration, and this crow full of "mysteries" did this effortlessly. No matter how I speed up, it has been hanging within the range that I can see when I lift my eyes.

If the immune counterattack of the ideological world tries to intercept us in this situation, it should send a team of fighters from the bottom up to contain our fighter group, but the actual situation is that it seems to have given up. When the huge group of fighter jets in the distance was about to completely leave the observation range, it began to divide into three teams and turned to different positions. Only the "Spitfire" group above us was still in hot pursuit.

The change of the second batch of large-scale fighter groups naturally made me feel that there was something else inside, when I told the file. She immediately said to me: "Maybe they found someone else." I also had the same idea, so the invisible channel of the speed-sweeping superpower re-adjusted its direction and changed the downward trend to obliquely approaching those fighter groups. We need to suspend one of the teams from afar without attracting their attention. While preventing them from re-listing us as the first target of attack, they must also dodge the "fire-breathing" fleet that has been chasing in the sky.

In order to ensure a proper distance, our speed inevitably slowed down. After a while, the Spitfires finally entered their attack range again, and we had to repeat the act of evading bullets. but. Even if there is no cover, relying on the speed of turning and increasing and decreasing the speed freely, it is enough to avoid injury in the bullet rain. The "Spitfire" didn't build up pressure from the beginning of their pursuit, and it was the same at this time. On the contrary, the "Spitfire" fleet seemed to be fed up with this ineffective attack method, and once again changed the formation, trying to speed up the encirclement of us.

We proceeded along an oblique downward path. The distant aircraft group we are tracking is also descending. It seems that the target they are locking is located further down. Before seeing their target, I and the file looked at each other, as if I had a heart, I stopped swiftly, and the file once again assumed an attacking posture at any time. The "Spitfire" fleet at the top of the rear did not slow down and gave up the plan to encircle. On the contrary, it is like fueling the throttle again, approaching at a higher speed. In this process, the intensive interception shooting will naturally not stop. However, the file and I were well prepared, and after swinging with the hook rope, we hid under an iron stand. Now, if they want to attack us, they must be lowered to a place lower than the horizontal line where the iron stand is.

The speed of these "Spitfire" fighters was too fast, after we hid under the iron frame. Many fighters hadn't had time to lower their noses at all, passing directly over the iron stand, and the "spitfire" that landed under the level of the iron stand at the right time also failed to hit us. When the dense bullets crossed under the iron stand, the file and I left the iron stand in time. Go down. The Spitfire, which was already close enough, tried to hit us with the fuselage, but this distance was enough for the file to complete an attack. Just as I threw the hook rope, a "Spitfire" stalled during the file shooting, brushed the iron stand and fell downwards. Before it hit a huge gear structure, the hook rope climbed on another. Frame the "Fire-breathing" wheel frame, we once again separated from other "Fire-breathing" muzzles in the swing, and using the force of this "Fire-breathing" to land on the fuselage of another "Fire-breathing" superior.

This "fire-breathing" that we borrowed from was damaged by a file, and the propeller went into the wake of the crash. And I used the arm blade to plunge into the opening and closing of the "fire-breathing" cockpit where I was, destroying the fixed lock and prying it up, and a cold and strange gas leaked out. "Preservative?" the file muttered, frowning. These gases are like vaporized dry ice, very rich, and seem to be the things that make the cockpit look hazy.

In this piece of wind-dissipating gas, the pilot raised his head towards me. He was fully armed, even his head and face were hidden in a flying helmet and breathing mask. I don’t know if he was surprised, but that’s already It didn't matter, the file shot and exploded his head.

When I pierced his throat with an arm blade and tried to pick him out of the cockpit, the guy who was supposed to be a corpse suddenly grabbed the blade with both hands and tried to force me out. The file was not stunned, grabbed my arm, and worked together to lift the corpse up, and then I turned in~IndoMTL.com~ to stabilize the tilted body again. And at this time, I also used another arm to cut off the driver’s arm. Before it fell off the fuselage, I cut off his head, nailed it through with a knife, and took it with me. Into the cockpit.

At this time, the file had completely controlled this "Spitfire", and the other "Spitfires" didn't seem to react, and they were still flying according to the established route. The file disguised as a "fire-breathing" stall and separated from the fleet. In the process, we were not attacked by other "fire-breathing" attacks. I sat in the arms of the file, and the tacit understanding of the seizure plan went smoothly, but the strange gas that had not yet completely dissipated made people frown. "This guy is still alive?" asked the file. If these "fire-breathing" drivers are the same as this driver, they won't die immediately if they are punched through their heads. Then, those "fire-breathing" drivers who were killed by us will not die immediately. "It shouldn't have crashed so easily.

"It's not moving anymore." I opened the driver's helmet and breathing mask, only to find that the head hidden under the helmet and breathing mask was not a normal human head at all—just a strong smell of preservatives. Skull head. Without saying anything, I threw it out of the cockpit.

"Fuck, it was a dead man!" The file cursed and pulled down the cockpit lid. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to the starting point (m) to vote for recommendation and monthly pass. Your support is my biggest motivation. For mobile phone users, please go to m to read.)