Chapter 249 That Place

Formaggio lay down at the entrance of the sewer with difficulty.

He hooked his still intact leg firmly onto the ladder to keep himself steady, and leaned his already rotten shoulder against the edge of the manhole cover to provide himself with support.

Blood flowed out among the black and red filth, and a suffocating stench slowly fermented in the air.

He looked extremely miserable, like one of those rats that had been pickled in the sewer.

But even so, Formaggio's free hand, the only intact hand, still firmly grasped Mista's calf, grasping the victory that belonged to him.

"Formaggio..."

This strange name was finally imprinted in Mista's heart in such a profound way.

He finally realized how serious his previous mistake was.

This mistake was not only because he underestimated the enemy's mobility, but also because he ignored the enemy's willpower.

Formaggio was right, they were the same kind of people:

Men like them will never give up easily until they complete their mission.

"The one who has to complete the mission now is me, Formaggio!"

Formaggio's roar was like thunder.

His hand gripped Mista's calf like an iron clamp.

Mista felt the heavy pressure on his legs and also smelled the sudden despair in the air.

He instinctively wanted to fight back.

But now his hands were still occupied by the big ice cream bucket, and he was attacked suddenly and had difficulty reacting, so his shooting action was more than ten times slower than usual.

But Formaggio's attack was more fierce and decisive than his.

He knew this might be his last chance, so he must not let down his guard.

Without giving Mista a chance to fight back, the moment he grabbed Mista's calf unexpectedly, Formaggio suddenly exerted force backwards and pulled Mista's body up from the ground.

Mista is now only about 40 centimeters tall, and his body shape is not as good as those of a well-developed one-year-old child.

Under Formaggio's sudden force, he lost his balance in an instant, and was then pulled into the air by a big hand without any resistance.

Then, Formaggio swung his arm downward heavily...

Mista immediately transformed into a human meteor hammer and smashed heavily into the ground on the other side in an extremely tragic manner.

Bang!

The collision between the hard cement and the soft flesh produced an ominous muffled sound.

All the bones in Mista's body were shaking violently in the impact, and half of his body was rubbed bloody in the collision with the ground.

And the worst part is...

In this brutal collision, his revolver flew out of control.

“Oh no!”

Mista's heart suddenly trembled in pain.

As an ADC, all his skills are based on this gun.

For him, no matter how much the power of the bullet is reduced, it is better than nothing. Being without a gun would be the real end of the road.

Mista tried hard to reach out and pick up the revolver that was smashed away, but Formaggio would not let his enemy have the opportunity to re-arm.

Before Mista could even stretch out his hand, the big hand that was firmly grasping his calf suddenly transmitted a huge force.

Unable to stop it and unable to struggle, Mista was lifted into the air again by this huge force.

He had no chance to pick up his gun.

But the enemy has plenty of energy to torment him.

Just like that, it's like paying tribute to the classic scene of the Hulk beating up Loki...

Formaggio held Mista's calf tightly and pounded it back and forth on the hard concrete floor madly, violently, and without stopping.

Bang, bang, bang, bang…

It sounded like someone beating a leaky drum with a sledgehammer.

The sound was low, dense and creepy.

Amid the continuous collisions, Mista's body was already a bloody mess.

He felt like every bone in his body was wailing.

Pain seeped into the flesh with the impact, like wave after wave of the tide coming in from the shore.

This tragic scene continued like this for a very long time.

It lasted so long that the perpetrator himself felt his scalp tingling:

"Not dead yet?"

"I should have... hit it dozens of times, right?"

Formaggio was shocked by Mista's vitality.

He, the one swinging the "hammer", was so tired that his arms were sore, while Mista, the "hammer" who was hit, was still gasping for breath.

Although reducing body size can indeed greatly , it is not so strong that one cannot be killed even if being hit for half a day.

There is no doubt that this can only be due to Mista's own strong physique and extraordinary talent.

"You'd better die quickly..."

"This way you will be free sooner!"

Of course, Formaggio would not show any extra mercy to his enemies.

Seeing that Mista's body was so resistant to beatings, he immediately increased his strength and speeded up the frequency, preparing to complete the execution with all his strength.

"No...if you keep going like this...you'll die!"

Mista struggled in agony.

He had lost the pistol he relied on to fight, and even his freedom and life were in the hands of the enemy.

But even so, after going through the three-day journey, he unknowingly developed the belief of never giving up.

"one way or another…"

"First... survive!"

This was the only thought left in Mista's mind.

But now it was almost impossible for him to do anything to Formaggio, and the only breakthrough could only come from himself.

So, the next time I was smashed to the ground...

Mista tried to tense his body backwards and pressed his captured leg down.

This little move certainly couldn't break free of Formaggio's restraints , but it could make his knees stick out as much as possible so that they would be the first to touch the ground during the collision.

In this way, the impact force is almost entirely borne by the knee.

The enormous force applied to the relatively fragile knee joint immediately caused the flesh to be eroded and the bones to be broken.

The white bones were smashed into pieces on the ground, leaving only the flesh and tendons that had not yet rotted away, barely maintaining the apparent integrity of the broken leg.

Formaggio was still undecided.

Having entered King Kong mode, he now just wanted to smash the bug in his hand to death as quickly as possible.

Without even observing carefully, Mista's knee had just been smashed on the ground, and he immediately used a huge force to pull it back upwards out of habit.

It seemed that Mista's body was about to rise into the air again.

But this time, while being dragged, he suddenly stretched out his hands and firmly grasped a small piece of cement protrusion on the ground.

The hands in front held onto the cement block tightly, while the calves in the back were violently dragged backwards by Formaggio's great force.

Just pull and tug like this...

The knee, which had already been shattered, broke instantly with a splash of blood.

It's like someone forcefully plucks off a small piece of spicy strip, and when you pull it off, your hands are always covered with shocking red oil.

In Formaggio's hand was the severed body stump.

And it was in this pain that Mista was able to break free from his bondage and regain his freedom.

However, his body escaped Formaggio's grasp and began to fall uncontrollably.

Soon, Mista's body brushed past Formaggio's body and fell into the gap of the manhole cover under the action of gravity, falling to the ground of the sewer.

"What?!"

Formaggio was suddenly startled.

He immediately lowered his head to look for Mista's trace:

At this moment, Mista had fallen into the narrow cement road in the sewer, and was struggling to stand up with the help of the wall, supporting his broken leg.

Seeing this scene, Formaggio, who had just been surprised, immediately calmed down:

"Just a last-ditch effort..."

"He had no weapons, and he broke his own leg trying to break free."

"This is nothing more than mechanically executing the credo of 'never give up'. It has no other meaning except to make yourself live a little longer."

Although Formaggio himself was shot in the knee and injured in the shoulder, his condition was not very good.

But compared to Mista, whose body had shrunk to this extent, whose whole body was covered with severe injuries, and whose leg was forcibly amputated, Formaggio still had an absolute advantage.

Especially the previous blows that had lasted for who knows how many times, that level of damage was no joke.

Now Mista was covered in wounds and blood. He could only hold on to the wall with difficulty, supporting himself with his only remaining leg, and struggling to jump forward with his small and broken body.

At this speed, he would not be able to escape Formaggio's pursuit anyway.

"What a tenacious fellow."

Formaggio sighed with a complicated tone.

He climbed down the ladder leisurely and slowly stood firm in the sewer.

At this time, Mista had just grabbed the dirty sewer wall and jumped less than two meters away.

"Give it up."

"I'll make your death a little more pleasant this time."

Formaggio limped forward.

To Mista, this step sounded like a Tyrannosaurus Rex chasing him from behind.

"Damn... Is there really no hope?"

Mista did not stop moving forward, but he could not suppress the despair that welled up in his heart.

Because just like this dark and filthy sewer, he couldn't see any light at all:

He was seriously injured, had no pistol, and couldn't even escape from the enemy.

So what else can he do now?

Mista asked himself in his heart:

Do I have to fight back with my fists?

It's impossible. My body has shrunk to the size of a baby. Even if I'm not injured, I can't have any impact on the enemy.

Or, rely on your own stand-in, the Sexy Pistol?

That would be even more of a pipe dream.

Mista's body has now shrunk to just over 30 centimeters, his height has shrunk by about 6 times, and his volume has shrunk by 216 times.

Under normal circumstances, the sexy pistols are only the size of a bullet. Now, as the main body has shrunk proportionally, they have shrunk to the size of a tiny grain of sand.

If Formaggio wanted to kill people with these little guys, he would have to make a big hole in his head which was perfectly protected by his skull, and then let those little guys in to cause trouble without any defense.

Otherwise, if we can’t attack the most vulnerable and important part of the brain…

This tiny stand that is difficult for normal people to distinguish with the naked eye is simply impossible to cause any effective damage to the enemy:

Attacking from the outside wouldn't even be enough to tickle you, and attacking from the inside... the most you'd probably be able to do is cause a stomach perforation.

"what to do?"

"What on earth should I do?"

Mista asked this question over and over in his mind.

At the same time, he was moving forward without stopping - although he didn't know where he could go or how far he could go.

The road ahead was still dark, but Mista never slowed down.

Because he knew that if he stopped like this, there would really be no possibility.

Just like that, in this darkness...

With the faint sunlight leaking through the manhole cover, Mista could clearly see the narrow pipe exit on the wall not far ahead.

"Is that... a drainpipe?"

Mista's eyes lit up.

He seemed to have found it, a ray of light in this endless darkness:

"That place, as long as I can get to that place..."