War Paradise

The hot wind blew over the desert, and several vultures swept across the barren sand, looking for possible animal carrion.

A convertible off-road vehicle with an earth-yellow shell galloped past the middle of the desert. The huge rubber tires spun quickly, rubbing the ground to raise large tracts of yellow sand.

On the radio of the open jeep, wild heavy metal music reverberated continuously. The three guys sitting in the back row, each holding a bottle of Budweiser, were playing poker drunkly:

"you lose!"

"I kick you down, you cheating bastard..."

"Fuck you, I'm going to shoot!"

The noise and vibration from the back seat caused a black mask on his face. The driver who was driving was very upset. He turned around and yelled: "If you talk nonsense, I will throw you here! Asshole."

"Calm down, calm down!" The black-haired man in a black jacket sitting at the back put down his wine bottle and patted the driver on the shoulder. The imitation of the American soldier "dog tag" was engraved on his chest. Name: Clement.

Although this guy said good things, there was still a cynical smirk on his face. He lifted his leg and put one foot beside the driver's seat, his jeans with holes in them were blown constantly by the wind, and the metal pendants on the trouser legs made a crisp knocking sound.

"I'm out of this." Sitting on the left of Clemente, the girl with a explosive head wearing a red T-shirt and denim shorts threw out the poker with a look of winning.

At this moment, there was a sudden hot wind blowing right in front, and the three people watched the card flew out to the back of the car and disappeared into the yellow sand in the sky.

"Holy-shit!" the girl scolded.

"Shut up." The driver raised his **** to the rearview mirror: "It's almost here, get ready for battle, do you want to die?"

The three people in the back row threw away their playing cards and cast their eyes on the outline of the city that appeared in the distance of the desert. The driver narrowed his bloodshot eyes and continued to drive the high-powered off-road vehicle through the yellow sand.

——A huge city completely incompatible with the desert, appeared in the sand ahead, at the top of the towering skyscrapers, with signal lights to guide the planes, several large passenger planes rushed straight into the clouds, bringing out white lines and flying into the blue sky .

With the ever-expanding outline of the city, the four people in the ring jeep opened their eyes slightly. From this perspective, the prosperous level of the city is even higher than that of New York.

Passing through the uninhabited desert, suddenly encountering this extremely prosperous metropolis, under the strong contrast, the shock is even better. Just when the four of them were feeling secretly in their hearts, they saw a white light suddenly lit up in the sand in front of them——

"Sit down!"

The driver slammed the steering wheel to the right, and a red light hurriedly came with a loud and deafening noise, smashing the windshield in front of the jeep, and directly hitting the man in the white T-shirt sitting in the back row.

"Uh--"

Before the man even screamed, his body was blasted into two pieces by the large-caliber armor-piercing projectile of the anti-material gun. The upper body flew directly to the back of the body and disappeared into the yellow sand in the sky. The lower body that fell from the waist was still sitting in the car. Inside, spurting blood around.

"Fuck!"

Clement cursed loudly, reached out and grabbed his legs while sitting on the seat, threw half of his companion out of the car, looked at the girl with the explosive head next to him, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Fortunately, the makeup is a bit spent..." The girl who was almost thrown out of the car, raised her hand to wipe off the blood on her face, and took out a silver-colored Colt M1911A1 pistol from her pocket. It was full of shocking scratches.

"Sit down, I'm going to crush that crap!" the driver roared.

Although the mask on his face has resisted a lot of damage for him, there are still some glass ballasts nailed to his eye sockets. If this guy is not lucky enough, I am afraid that he has become a cyclops.

"Die, bastard!"

Amidst the roar of the driver, the off-road vehicle jolted and roared over the sand dunes. The wheels slammed into the sand in front of them. They shook violently for a while as if they were crushed by a hard object, and a large amount of spewed out from under the wheels. Blood stains.

"Want to run?"

The driver smiled triumphantly and continued to drive towards the metropolis ahead. Clement, sitting in the back seat, took out a crumpled business card from his pocket and looked at the red double sword icon painted on it and the name beside it:

War watcher.

Contact information, phone: 145-XXXX. Email: More traditional, do not use this service.

"Does that lunatic mean the'party' is going to start here?" the black-haired man asked loudly.

"Yes, don't you know if you look at it for yourself?" The driver said angrily, and stuffed a **** leaflet into Clement's hand.

The paper of that leaflet was rough, and it looked like it was printed directly on toilet paper. In addition to the double-sword icon of "War Observer", it also had an exaggerated headline and a few small lines. Scarlet Letter:

"The war watcher arrives, and the feast of killing begins! 》

"Hello everyone, this is the war watcher. The recent situation is really stable and disgusting, and it's not interesting at all. So I deliberately arrived in this desert city and gathered the world's strongest elite killers. Simply put That is to say-the second'killing feast' has begun!"

"What you have to do is to kill each other in the city while killing the mission targets that I have marked. As for how to find the location of the'mark', what do you ask me to do? Of course it depends on you! Self-reliance is a killer. Basic skills, right?"

"After you kill the marked target, don't forget to take a photo. The killer who lives to the end and completes more than three goals will win the prize provided by me! So... don't miss this event. Killers!"

"What is the jackpot?" Clement asked.

"I don't know what it is this time, but the grand prize last time seems to be 100 million US dollars. Anyway, the'War Watcher' is a mentally idiot, but he is still very trustworthy. Just do what he says!"

The driver stomped on the accelerator as he said, and the jeep hurried towards the metropolis in the desert.

Under the clear sky, undercurrents surged.

In addition to this group of killers, the world's elite killers are taking various means of transportation to rush to this luxurious city standing in the desert:

Sitting in the economy class of the airliner, a female office worker in professional attire has a ceramic saber hidden in her high heels that can pass through any security check.

The middle-aged man who had just arrived in the city in the bus touched his pocket, a dangerous grin appeared on his unshaven face.

The homeless man leaning against the wall of the dirty alley had an imperceptible cold light flashing from his cuffs.

The cute girl in a white pleated skirt held tight the miniature syringe hidden in her palm.

...

In a gloomy corner, looking at dozens of LCD screens all over the wall, the "person" sitting on the sofa with a blurry face raised his hand and picked up a cigar, and then activated the sticker. The voice changer on the throat opened his arms and made a weird electronic sound:

"I am a'war watcher', welcome to the banquet, friends!"