Douluo: Reincarnation of Leosli, punishing the evildoers

Looking at the closed door in front of him, Leosley simply tightened his bandages slightly and punched the door.

boom!
Leosley's fist slammed into the door like a meteorite; even without gloves, the force of that punch was enough to crush anything that stood in his way.

With a deafening roar, the gate finally succumbed to the immense force and collapsed completely, shattering into countless fragments that flew into the palace. Dark red crystal light poured out from the broken door frame, illuminating a space outside the gate.

Leosley withdrew his fist, the muscles in his arm slightly tense, a few fine cracks faintly visible on the bandage. His breathing was steady, his expression indifferent, as if the punch had been thrown casually. His gaze, deep and cold, peered through the broken door frame into the depths of the palace.

"What...what kind of monster is this?"

"Run! We're no match for him!"

Higewen sighed softly, "What a waste of anesthetic."

Higewen shook her head, quietly returning the tranquilizer gun in her hand to her waist.

That's the downside of the equipment from the Fontainebleau Academy: once the tranquilizer gun is loaded, it has to be used, otherwise the tranquilizer needle will be useless once the drug wears off.

Seeing this, the remaining black knights had already lost their will to fight, and they dropped their weapons and fled in all directions. Their faces were filled with fear, as if what stood before them was not a human being, but a demon even more demonic than themselves.

A thousand years have passed, and the crowds surging into the Killing City are like a tidal wave. However, only Leosley dared to smash through the heavy gates of the legendary Killing King's Palace in one fell swoop.

Even those notorious killers never spoke of such arrogance.

The crowd before them froze, exchanging bewildered glances, their expressions grave, as if they were in a post-apocalyptic phantom. A madman, absolutely a madman. Anyone who dares to step into the City of Slaughter is a desperate outlaw. However, desperate outlaws are not without reason. Who would dare to so fiercely provoke the King of Slaughter?

A large group of knights dressed in black armor emerged from inside, but the one leading them was the same "guide" they had encountered when they first entered.

She was still wearing that scantily clad outfit, and her face was veiled in black, revealing her features only partially.

"It seems you don't intend to follow the rules here."

She walked out slowly, her black gauze dress swaying gently with her steps, her slender legs appearing and disappearing in the air. Her voice carried a hint of languor, yet it was not without authority, as if all of this was within her expectations.

"Stop." The messenger gestured with his hand.

The black knights who had been fleeing in panic immediately stopped and stood respectfully to the side, not daring to make any further moves. Their eyes were lowered, and they dared not look directly at the figure of the killer.

Leosley stood quietly in the doorway, his gaze calm and unwavering. His hands remained at his sides, his fingers slightly curled beneath the bandages, as if ready to respond to any unexpected situation.

A woman who dresses like that in the Killing City is either a fool or has the means to do so; otherwise, she would have been devoured by those ravenous, depraved individuals long ago.

Leosley's gaze lingered on the woman for a moment before shifting away, seemingly unsurprised by her presence. His expression remained cold and aloof, as if nothing around him could arouse his interest.

The messenger approached slowly: "Guest, do you know where this place is?"

She knew exactly how to attract a man's attention, so her voice became even more alluring as she slowly approached, each step carrying a seductive rhythm. Her black gauze dress swayed gently in the wind, her long legs appearing and disappearing in the dim light, exuding a fatal attraction.

In the past, anyone who was attracted to her and dared to pounce on her like a hungry tiger would be killed by her without mercy!
After all, she was an envoy, representing the face of the King of Slaughter, and could not be disrespected. Those who could enter the City of Slaughter were generally not good people, which was one of the reasons why she was dressed like that.

By luring the other party into making a move, she can also have a legitimate reason to end their life.

Unlike the other Fallen Ones, Leosley didn't stare at her intently from the moment he arrived.

But he's still someone who can smash through palace gates!
Leosley's gaze remained calm, unmoved by her allure.

But she won't give up.

It's been so long since I've encountered a "toy" with such strong willpower.

Even the former god of war almost fell for her tricks.

“We want to see the King of Slaughter.” Leosley’s voice was cold and firm. He didn’t intend to waste any more words with her; he just wanted to clarify his purpose. His gaze was fixed on the Slaughter Messenger, without the slightest hesitation or intention to compromise.

"You want to see the king?" The Slaughterer's voice turned cold.

“Of course,” Leosley replied succinctly and forcefully.

The Slaughterer slightly raised her chin; her face was veiled in black, obscuring her expression, but Leosley could feel her gaze scrutinizing him. The surroundings were unsettlingly quiet, broken only by the soft breathing of a few people. The murderous aura in the air seemed to solidify into icy blades, piercing the nerves of everyone present.

But she just smiled slightly and said in a gentle tone, "Perhaps we can find a quiet place to have a proper talk?"

Hearing this, Siegwen frowned and said, "Duke, don't be fooled by her."

The Slaughterer glanced at Siegwen, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

The Killer turned to Leosley: "This little sister seems to care about you. But men always have their needs, don't they?"

She reached out, her fingertips lightly gliding over Leosley's arm, her eyes filled with provocation.

The Slaughterer whispered in Leosley's ear, "I can give you anything you want..."

Before she could finish speaking, Leosley suddenly reached out his right hand and grabbed the Killer by the throat, lifting her up. Her feet left the ground, her black dress swaying gently in the air, her legs kicking weakly. Her face instantly turned pale, the provocation in her eyes vanished, replaced by deep fear and disbelief.

The killer tried to struggle.

"Cough... Let go! You dare—"

Leosley's fingers tightened like iron clamps, and the killer's voice abruptly ceased, leaving only a faint cough. Her hands instinctively gripped his wrists, trying to break free, but Leosley's strength far exceeded her expectations, and her struggles seemed futile.

The air around them seemed to freeze. The black knights stared in disbelief at the scene, none daring to take a step forward. Their faces were filled with terror, as if they had witnessed the most unbelievable thing in the world.

Siegwen stood quietly to the side, her gaze calm and serene, offering no indication of stopping her. (End of Chapter)