Even if a few of their own people fell, it couldn't stop their counterattack.
Pistols, rifles... all burst into flames.
In an instant, the highway was filled with gunfire, and dense bullets attacked the man who was walking towards them step by step.
Pa pa pa...
The Mafia's bullets landed on Oboro, and fell to the ground one after another, covering the road... They couldn't even damage his clothes.
A guy carrying a cannon licked his lips, preparing to give Oboro a big one... but as soon as he squatted down, a pebble pierced his face.
As the distance gradually narrowed, the number of people dying on the Mafia's side also increased... The man with glasses had a gloomy look in his eyes.
"Stop! You guys can't deal with him..."
At this time, a voice sounded from the crowd, and the Mafia members stopped one after another, and separated to both sides, leaving a gap.
They saw a man with messy hair and a conspicuous scar on his face walking down from a sedan, with a sneer on his face, swinging a butterfly knife in his hand.
The small weapon was being twirled on his fingertips, so agile that it turned into a frightening ball of silver light.
"This kind of beast should be left to professional hunters to solve..."
The man stood at the very front.
"Sorry for the trouble."
The man with glasses said to him, and raised his hand to let all his companions retreat.
Oboro stepped on the ground covered with bullet casings and stopped.
The pebbles in his hand had been used up.
Oboro also heard what the other party said.
He looked at the man who was blocking him, and even trying to kill him, and smiled slightly: "You seem very confident that you can kill me?"
He had sensed early on that there was a Nen user hidden in the car.
"Hehehe... The Heavens Arena is just a place for a bunch of people who can't get on the stage, a place for playing house. Don't think that those guys can be on par with people like me who have been walking in the dark for years, living a life of licking blood from the edge of a knife! We are true hunters who live in the jungle of death, following the laws of the food chain..." As the man spoke, he raised his dagger and took an offensive stance.
"Judging from your Nen, and your eyes... you're right, you should have some skill."
Oboro smiled wryly.
The man's face showed a bloodthirsty smile, "So... which piece of meat on your body should I start cutting from... which is better..."
At the moment the words fell, the hand holding the knife was already unsteady.
Scarface's pupils shrank sharply...
He hadn't blinked his eyes from beginning to end, and his vision had been fixed on the target, without shifting at all... But at this moment, the other party had strangely come in front of him. He hadn't noticed, let alone warned, and hadn't even seen the trajectory and movement of Oboro's sudden attack.
The man immediately broke out in a cold sweat.
"I only said that your strength is barely passable... I wasn't praising you."
At the moment of being close, Oboro didn't immediately attack, but instead leaned forward, bringing his face close to Scarface's face, only a few centimeters away, looking at each other.
Watching his shaking pupils and the look of horror and unease that he was trying his best to hide, he said softly.
"Aaaaaah!"
The man shouted loudly, and the blade in his hand turned into a silver thread, slashing towards Oboro's throat.
Pa!
But Oboro's palm also quickly inserted into the afterimage, and even without looking, he grabbed the other party's wrist. As his fingers exerted force, Scarface's wrist was snapped with a crack.
"Ah!"
The man shouted again.
His face was twitching wildly.
"No way... A master like you who walks on the edge of death, would feel pain from this kind of small injury? That shouldn't be..." Oboro narrowed his eyes and smiled.
Immediately, his other hand swung out.
The huge force directly tore the Nen user's neck, and his head shattered.
He died without a whole body.
Some Nen users who were active underground for many years were indeed different from those in the Heavens Arena. Although not all the contestants in the Heavens Arena were 'flowers in a greenhouse', at least most people's living environment was relatively healthy... The environment had a great influence on a person.
From this point of view, those colleagues who were engaged in assassination, mercenaries, and other relationships underground did have some capital to be proud of.
Every battle they had to go through was a life-and-death battle, and they often had to face desperate situations. Most of their enemies were also desperate people. The energy and will that a person could unleash in the midst of life-and-death choices was not to be underestimated... This level of danger was far greater than the 200th floor of the Heavens Arena.
However, this Scarface man... was obviously not among them.
His level was a little better than the trash on the 200th floor, but only that.
The broken part of Scarface's neck was still spurting blood, and soon it stained the ground red, forming a pool of blood.
Oboro shook the dirt off his hands, and his gaze passed through a group of silent Mafia members and landed on the calm man with glasses.
The latter was still very calm, not panicked... completely different from the other subordinates who had already begun to show fear.
He was also very calmly looking at Oboro...
As Mafia members, these bloody scenes and death scenes, if not commonplace, had long become a part of their lives.
"Yes... the person is already dead."
"Sorry, boss... I couldn't deal with him."
The man with glasses was on the phone.
"Okay, I understand."
After a moment, he put down the phone.
He walked towards Oboro step by step.
Oboro's eyes were playful... He thought it was very interesting.
Ordinary people would definitely be terrified and uneasy when faced with death, this was an instinct... So many people had died, and he thought the other party would scatter and run away or desperately try to do something, but... they didn't. The discipline and psychological quality of this group of Mafia members far exceeded his expectations.
"Congratulations... you got your life back!"
The man with glasses walked close to Oboro and said indifferently.
So arrogant...
Oboro was slightly surprised.
"Even if you kill everyone here... including me, it won't help..."
The man with glasses blew out smoke and said coldly, "The underworld has its own rules. Once your matter gets out, it will damage the reputation of our Fiers Family."
"Come with me, the boss wants to see you."
Before Oboro could speak, the phone in his pocket rang very appropriately.
He took it out and glanced at the caller ID.
"Hello."
"Master..."
A familiar sound came from the other end of the phone.
Bald Charlie.
The guy who had always wanted to become his disciple, but hadn't succeeded.
He was also the lackey who had helped Oboro run around to various casinos at the beginning.
Charlie had left the Heavens Arena more than half a year ago. Oboro had simply taught him a method of body tempering, and Charlie was preparing to start his own cultivation again.
Without saying much about this call... Oboro already understood that Charlie had been caught and was in the other party's hands.
"Let's go."
The man with glasses put out the cigarette butt with the sole of his shoe, and turned around and got into the car first.
Oboro hung up the phone.
"No wonder..."
"The Mafia... is more outstanding than I thought..."
He pondered.
Over there, someone had already helped him open a car door.
Seeing this, Oboro followed slowly.
When passing by a Mafia member, he naturally wiped the blood-stained hand that he hadn't cleaned off on his well-tailored clothes.
The man's expression was annoyed, but he didn't dare to say anything.
"I just lay down and was getting sleepy, and you called me up... How annoying..."
In a spacious and luxurious hall, a man wearing pajamas and slippers pushed open the door and entered, with an impatient look on his face.
Behind him, followed a woman dressed 'scantily'.
The two plopped down on the sofa, the man stretched out his arm, put it around the woman, and the movements of his hand were a little 'unclean'.
The woman also seemed to be enjoying it.
"That man named Oboro... is about to arrive."
A few meters away, a middle-aged man with a blank expression put a videotape into the device.
"So what... Just because of him, I have to get up and accompany you to discuss? Chat?"
The man picked his ear and spread his hands exaggeratedly: "No way, the three of you... Is it necessary to be so serious? A kid who popped up out of nowhere..."
"Shut up!"
The middle-aged man glanced at him and scolded.
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