Hot wind blew over the desert, and several vultures swept across the deserted sand, looking for possible animal carcasses.

A convertible off-road vehicle with a yellowish shell sped past the middle of the desert, and the huge rubber tires rotated rapidly, rubbing against the ground and raised a large piece of yellow sand.

On the radio station of the convertible Jeep, wild heavy metal music kept echoing. Three guys sitting in the back row, each holding a bottle of Budweiser, were playing poker drunk:

"You lost!"

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

"Damn it, I'm going to shoot!"

The noise and vibration from the back seat made the driver who was driving with a black mask on his face upset. He turned around and scolded loudly: "If you talk nonsense, I will throw you here! A bastard."

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

Although this guy was saying good things, he still had a cynical smirk on his face. He raised his legs and put one foot next to the driver's seat. His ripped jeans were blown by the wind and the metal pendant on his legs made a crisp knock.

"I'll make this one." The explosive head girl sitting on Clement's left, wearing a red T-shirt and denim shorts, threw out the poker in her hand with a look of winning.

At this time, a gust of hot wind suddenly blew in front of him, and the three of them watched the card fly 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 middle finger in the rearview mirror: "It's coming soon, be ready for battle. Do you want to die?"

The three people in the back row threw away the playing cards and turned their eyes to the city contours that appeared in the distance of the desert. The driver narrowed his bloodshot eyes and continued to drive a high-power off-road vehicle through the yellow sand all over the sky.

——A huge city that is completely inconsistent with the desert appears in the sand in front of it. At the top of the skyscraper towering into the clouds, the signal lights guiding the plane are lit, and several large passenger planes soar straight into the sky, leading out the white line to fly into the blue sky.

The increasingly expanded city outline made the four people in the jeep open their eyes slightly. From this perspective, the prosperity of the city is even higher than that of New York.

After passing through the deserted desert, I suddenly encountered such an extremely prosperous metropolis. In the strong contrast, the shock brought even more. Just when the four of them were secretly sighing in their hearts, they saw a white light suddenly lit up in the sand ahead.

"Sit down!"

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

"Well--"

The man didn't even have time to scream, and his body was shot into two by the large-caliber armor-piercing projectile of the reverse equipment gun. His upper body flew directly behind the car, disappearing into the yellow sand in the sky. The lower body, which had broken from his waist, was still sitting in the car, spraying blood around him.

"Damn!"

Clement cursed loudly, reached out and grabbed his legs that were still sitting in the seat, threw half of his companion's body out of the car, looked at the girl who was exploding next to him, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Fortunately, the makeup is a bit exhausting..." The girl who was almost thrown out of the car raised her hand to wipe off the blood stained on her face, took out a silver-shelled Colt M1911A1 pistol from her pocket, and the gun was covered with shocking scratches.

"I'm going to crush that bastard to death!" the driver yelled.

Although the mask on his face resisted a lot of damage for him, there were still some glass slags nailed beside his eye sockets. If this guy hadn't been lucky enough, he would have turned into a one-eyed dragon.

"Damn it, bastard!"

Amid the driver's roar, the off-road vehicle bumped and flew over the sand dunes with a roar. The wheels hit the sand in front of them, trembling violently as if they had crushed some hard object, and a large amount of blood spurted out from the wheels.

"Want to run?"

The driver laughed proudly and continued to drive towards the metropolis ahead. Clement, who was sitting in the back seat, took out a wrinkled business card from his pocket, looking at the red double sword icon painted on it and the name next to it:

War Observer.

Contact information, phone number: 145-XXXX. Email: It is more traditional and does not use this service.

"Is that crazy man saying that the 'party' is about to start here?" the black-haired man asked loudly.

"Yes, can you tell by looking at it yourself?" The driver said angrily, and stuffed a blood-stained flyer into Clement's hand.

The leaflet is rough in paper and looks like it was printed directly on toilet paper. In addition to the double sword icon of "War Observer", it also has a large, exaggerated title and a few lines of small red letters:

"War Observer Arrives, the Feast of Killing Begins!"

"Hello everyone, this is a war observer. The recent situation is really disgusting and has no meaning at all. So I specially arrived at this desert capital and summoned the world's strongest elite killer. Simply put, the second 'killing feast' has begun!"

"What you have to do is to kill each other in the city and kill each other and kill me. As for how to find the position of the 'mark', what do you ask me to do? Of course it depends on yourself! Self-reliance is the basic skill of the killer, right?"

"After killing the marked target, don't forget to take photos, killers who survive to the end and complete more than three goals will win the grand prize I provide! So... don't miss this event, killers!"

"What is the jackpot?" Clement asked.

"I don't know what this time is, but the last big prize seems to be $100 million. Anyway, the War Observer is a mentally abnormal idiot, but he is still very trustworthy and just do what he says!"

The driver said as he stepped on the accelerator to the bottom, and the jeep rushed towards the metropolis in the desert.

Under the clear sky, undercurrents surge.

In addition to this group of killers, elite killers from all over the world are riding on various means of transportation to this luxurious city standing in the desert:

Sitting in the economy class of the passenger plane, a female office worker in professional attire, she hid a ceramic saber that could pass any security check in her high heels.

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

The homeless man leaning against the walls of the dirty alley, a cold light flashed in his cuffs.

The cute girl in a white pleated skirt tightly clasped the miniature syringe hidden in the palm of her hand.

...

In a gloomy corner, looking at dozens of LCD screens covered with walls, the "person" sitting on the sofa with a blurred face raised his hand and picked up a cigar, then activated the voice changer attached to his throat, opened his arms, and made a strange electronic sound:

"I am the 'War Observer', welcome to the banquet, friends!"
Chapter completed!