Man is in the moon, the dead apostle starts

"call--"

Zhi Zhi glanced around, taking a panoramic view of the painters in front of him, then exhaled lightly, adjusting his breathing, so that the slightly sore muscles could be relieved.

At this time, she was already surrounded by densely packed painters, and there were no fewer than a hundred people at a glance, and the entire intersection was completely reduced to a battlefield.

"What a troublesome guy."

She muttered in her mouth, and she looked back at nothing. These guys all look the same, and there is no way to tell them apart. If this continues, her physical strength will be exhausted sooner or later, although it will be a long time later. up.

Without giving her much time to breathe, the painters rushed over one after another, waving thin daggers in their hands, which looked like some kind of exquisite etiquette supplies.

Among the daggers stabbing at her, only one was real, but Zhi couldn't tell the difference, so he could only block them all.

Zhi Zhi's body shuttled among the painters, and the dagger in his hand was constantly waving, like a dancing butterfly. Every time it flapped its wings, it would pierce a painter's body.

"Maybe I'll just have to make do with this gaudy setting."

The self-proclaimed artist smiled lowly, like a night owl, his voice echoed around, causing waves of echoes.

Zhi didn't speak, but tensed her face, and the short knife in her hand became more and more fierce, perhaps feeling the boiling killing intent in her heart, the short knife kept moaning, and the air around the blade gradually twisted.

Swish-!

The short knife stabbed out, this time the invisible blade not only penetrated the painter in front of her, but also several people behind him.

It seems that the short knife has been greatly extended. It is an invisible blade condensed by air, thin and transparent, but indestructible.

The swordsmanship taught to her by Professor Mikael was suddenly clear to her heart, Zhizhi closed her eyes, and no longer stick to the so-called swordsmanship, but let her feel to swing the sword.

Everything around her was reflected in her heart, and among those dense shadows, she could vaguely "see" a mass of darkness constantly changing positions.

If it was as expected, this mass of darkness should be the painter's body. If he couldn't wipe out all the shadows in one go, he wouldn't really hurt him.

So she needs a more powerful attack, an attack that can sweep everything.

Weaving stepped heavily on the ground, his petite body flew into the air, and then waved the dagger in his hand, swaying countless sword lights in an instant, like a whistling hurricane, sweeping all the painters, including those below. All the streets are covered in it, without any dead ends.

"Oh oh oh, fantastic art."

The painter was not surprised but delighted, he spoke so loudly, with the ups and downs of an opera-like tone.

"You bloom in the midst of killing, like a flower in the dawn."

Before the words fell, all the shadows were torn apart by the sharp sword light, leaving only wanton laughter.

.........

.........

The quiet street disappeared, and the noisy voices poured in like a tide, engulfing Zhi.

Zhizhi looked at the painter sitting in front of her, and remained silent. The pedestrians around her were like stubborn stones.

The drawing board in front of him was still intact and had not been pierced by him. He was holding the blank portrait in his hand, and the masked painter was looking at him, his blue eyes full of smiles.

What happened before was like a dream, when did I fall into the trap of the painter?Was what happened before real, or is it real now?For a while, she couldn't tell the difference.

"Your performance was wonderful."

The painter stood up and put away his painting tools.

"But today's performance is over, but we will have more cooperation opportunities in the future."

He bowed slightly, assuming a posture of exiting, and stabbed out the dagger violently, but as expected, he stabbed in the air.

"Miss Eryi?!"

Suddenly a familiar shout came from next to his ear, Ori turned his head to look, and saw Ryunosuke Kitahara rushing over.

"Mr. Mikael said you needed some help and sent me."

"Ah."

Zhi nodded and pointed in the direction of the painter,

"That guy is the murderer of the murder case."

"Are you sure?"

Although he said it, Ryunosuke Kitahara subconsciously took out his pistol and aimed at the painter's position.

"Can't be wrong."

.........

"The guns in your hands have no meaning and no artistry. I can't bear the ugliness."

The painter watched Kitahara Ryunosuke took out a pistol and aimed it at himself, still looking calm, his hand hidden under the coat stretched out, holding an antique firearm that looked like a work of art. pistol.

"Every bullet is a strand of my soul; every gunfire is a strand of my life."

He aimed at Ryunosuke Kitahara, and lightly pulled the trigger.

"I will make you full of poetry."

boom--

The gunshots that suddenly came to mind caused a commotion, Oro stood in front of Ryunosuke Kitahara, the blade of the dagger in his hand sank a little, and not far from them, a brass bullet fell to the ground, emitting silky Wisps of heat.

The moment the artist fired the gun, Ori captured the trajectory of the bullet, and then swung the dagger to knock it away.

Kacha-

Accompanied by a series of crisp sounds of broken glass, the figure of the painter gradually dissipated, and the light in front of the drawing board was distorted, finally revealing a figure.

Looking at the scene in front of him, Zhizhi couldn't help widening his eyes, and couldn't help but increase his strength in the hand holding the dagger.

"I can actually see through my illusion, obviously I'm just an ordinary human being."

The painter looked in the direction of Ryunosuke Kitahara, sighed softly, and finally set his eyes on his eyes.

"Is it the effect of the magic eye? The script of fate is really interesting. It pulls the thread, and we are like puppets being manipulated, so we have to dance with it."

Before he finished expressing his emotions, he saw a white rainbow whizzing across the air, as if he felt a fatal danger, the painter's body launched a fixed self-discipline defense technique, but it was all pierced through, and finally pierced his body chest.

The short knife with strong kinetic energy flew out with his body, and finally nailed him to the wall not far away. The blood flowed down his coat and gathered under his body to form a bright red stream. , as if someone dipped a brush in red paint and smeared wantonly.

Zhizhi walked up to him with a cold face, and drew out the dagger that pierced through the painter's chest.

"You can try to stop me from creating, but my art cannot be interrupted."

The vitality is rapidly disappearing with the flow of blood, but the painter just spoke calmly, and did not take the imminent death into consideration, smiling unabated,

"My audience...has entered the arena. At this moment, the curtain is rising, and our performance...is about to begin."