Taoist priest goes to America

Ang Lee stepped on the burly man's chest, gripped the hammer handle with both hands, and pulled the hammerhead off the man's face.

The hammerhead made a crisp sound as it detached, leaving a small pool of blood.

Li An loosened his grip on the man's foot, and the force of pulling out the hammer caused the burly man's body to flip over and land on the ground with a crack, blood still flowing from the wounds on his face.

"Saint Michael..." The voice of the veteran Boone came from not far away. His face was full of respect, but beneath the respect lay an uncontrollable fear.

The veteran stepped forward, stood behind Li An, swallowed hard, and his gaze uneasily swept over the three corpses lying on the sewage and garbage before settling on the still-dripping iron hammer in Li An's hand.

His posture remained that of a soldier, but his hands unconsciously rested in front of him as he stammered, "These three people...you put them..."

"What's wrong?" Li An turned around, casually slung the hammer over his shoulder, blood still dripping from the hammerhead.

"Do you think my methods are too cruel?"

The veteran didn't answer; his silence spoke volumes. He had seen Ang Lee smash an enemy's head with a single slap in a bridge arch, and he had also seen Ang Lee use a miracle of colored light to heal his lameness.

But the angel should be more merciful, more radiant, and closer to the descriptions he had heard from the priests accompanying the army.

The "Saint Michael" before me was expressionless when he killed, as if he were handling a batch of defective goods.

Li An looked into the old soldier's eyes, and there was a familiar expression in those cloudy old eyes.

That is the bewilderment and helplessness one feels when one has just witnessed violence beyond their comprehension and tries to understand it using their existing moral framework, only to find that it doesn't fit at all.

Ang Lee said calmly, "Do you think my methods are too cruel? They are the criminals who killed your friend, and they are also the demons who killed my lamb."

"These things are just demons disguised as humans. There's no need to treat them like human beings, and there's no need to harbor any goodwill towards them."

Ang Lee pointed to the burly man's corpse lying on the ground. In the veteran's blind spot, several strands of flesh and blood slid out from his trouser leg and crawled along the ground into the huge hole in the burly man's face.

The corpse quickly underwent a strange transformation.

The entire process was completed in a very short time, and the strong man's corpse quickly turned into a monster that was no longer recognizable as human.

The veteran first noticed the horrifying transformation that had occurred on the burly man's corpse; it had been a person just moments before, but now it had completely lost its human form.

"Think about your comrades again," Li An said to the veteran, then raised his finger and pointed to the pile of organs that the afro-headed soldier hadn't finished cutting out.

The dark red chunks of meat were still on the overturned metal trash can, with a few half-skewered iron sticks and the dagger covered in meat scraps scattered around them.

The veteran followed Li An's finger and saw the chopped pieces of meat on the trash can and the charred chunks of meat smoking on the grill.

Veteran Boone's gaze lingered on his old comrade's organs for a long time before shifting to the mutated, muscular corpse.

The confusion on his face peeled away layer by layer, revealing a bloodlust that had been suppressed for a very long time.

As Ang Lee looked at the veteran, his gaze shifted from fear to anger, and from anger to ferocity. A cold, murderous intent, unique to veterans who had fought on the battlefield, emanated from his entire body.

The veteran snapped to attention, his voice firm: "I understand! Lord Michael!"

"That's right." Li An nodded, dragging the blood-stained hammer towards the afro-haired man who had fallen headfirst into a mountain of garbage bags at the alley entrance.

The hammerhead scraped across the puddle, making a screeching sound that echoed through the narrow alley.

The guy with the afro who was hit on the back of the head by a brick is still alive. He has woken up from his coma and is struggling slightly in a pile of black garbage bags.

The wound on the back of his head, caused by the broken bricks, was still bleeding. He heard the sound of the hammer scraping the ground getting closer and closer, and he struggled more. He was still saying something in a weak voice.

Ang Lee stepped forward and looked down at the cannibal struggling in vain.

The man with the afro sensed someone standing in front of him. He struggled to lift his head, revealing a face smeared with blood, and opened his mouth to speak in a very low, broken voice:

"No...no...we are victims..."

Using his body as cover, Ang Lee flicked his left hand, and a twisting piece of flesh slung out from his finger and into the mouth of the man with the afro.

The afro-haired man's remaining words were abruptly cut off; his eyes widened suddenly, and he made indistinct "mmm" sounds.

The man with the afro began to struggle violently, his expression one of great pain.

But the flesh fibers had already slipped into his esophagus and then began to spread throughout his body, fusing with his tissues.

The man with the afro also began to mutate violently, turning into a deformed lump of flesh that was no longer recognizable as human in a short period of time.

His struggles grew weaker and weaker, until they became like the corpse of that burly man.

"What does this demon want? Is he trying to escape?" Veteran Boone stepped forward, his eyes red.

The veteran no longer hesitated at all; the expression on his face had changed from the fear and bewilderment of a homeless old man to the coldness of a soldier facing the enemy.

To veteran Boone, the twitching, struggling figure on the ground with the afro was nothing more than a demon in its true form attempting to escape punishment.

Ang Lee handed the still-dripping hammer to the veteran, the handle facing Boone, the hammerhead resting on the ground.

"You are the last one. Avenge your comrades and kill this demon yourself."

The veteran nodded earnestly, reaching out to take the hammer handle with both hands. His two hands, covered in calluses and old scars, gripped the handle tightly.

He raised the hammer high above his head, aimed at the neck of the mutated body on the ground, and slammed it down with all his might.

The hammer struck the fragile cervical vertebrae, breaking the neck bone with a snap. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking the sewage and garbage at the veteran's feet.

The veteran didn't stop; he raised the hammer and smashed it a few more times until the cervical vertebra was completely broken before he finally stopped.

Ang Lee patted the veteran on the shoulder with satisfaction. The veteran was still holding the hammer, his hands trembling violently from the force.

He exuded a murderous aura, his breathing was heavy and rapid, his chest heaved violently, and his wrinkled face was splattered with dark red bloodstains.

"Let's go, so as not to attract attention." Li An withdrew his hand and turned to walk towards the alley entrance.

The veteran finally came to his senses, looked down at the iron hammer in his hand, which was covered in blood and bits of flesh, and then glanced at the deformed corpse on the ground whose neck he had smashed with his own hands. He then slowly loosened his numb fingers, and the hammer handle slipped from his hand and fell into the puddle with a thud.

The veteran quickly caught up with Li An, his voice tinged with unease and apology: "I'm sorry, Lord Michael, I..."

Ang Lee waved his hand to interrupt him, "Don't worry, I'll get people to clean up the mess. The police won't be able to trace it back to us."