Tokyo: My Super Powers are updated every week

Chapter 297 The terrifying grip of the lion
The leader of the Matsuki-gumi was able to buy a house in Setagaya, a wealthy area recognized by the world, because three generations of the Matsuki-gumi's ancestors and grandchildren had been able to buy a house in Setagaya Ward.

The mansion occupies a large area and is in the standard Japanese style, with a courtyard and a pond that frightens the deer.

Usually when night falls, Team Leader Songmu will start a rich nightlife that is the envy of ordinary people.

However, he was not in that good mood today.

Kinjiro Matsuki was sitting on his knees in the hall, with a glass of boiled water on the table in front of him.

No one is around.

He heard the noise coming from outside, his right hand trembled slightly, and he poured himself a glass of water, trying to maintain the last dignity of his team leader.

Although he inherited his father's position as president, when he was young, he often participated in the fights between organizations, and he could be regarded as a ruthless person who licked blood.

Until he inherited the position of president, he gradually became pampered, lost the vigor of his youth, and became more gloomy and calculating.

He thought it was growth.

Now that I think about it, it was just degradation. The youthful energy was gone, and I could only choose to arm myself with scheming.

If it were before, he would never sit here, motionless like a mouse being stared at by a cat.

Kinjiro Matsuki thought.

The wooden sliding door suddenly made a loud bang, and half of the door was broken directly, and bright red blood was sprinkled on the tatami.

The man whose body was torn apart wailed on the tatami, climbed up and said: "Team leader, help!"

He burst into tears, left a few pairs of bright red handprints on the tatami, and died completely.

"That's weird."

Fluent English sounded, and thumping footsteps fell from the corridor outside into the room, as if a beast was approaching here.

Kinjiro Matsuki turned his head, and a giant man over two meters tall kicked down the remaining sliding door and stepped into the living room.

His thick neck was like a large mass of twisted steel bars, revealing terrifying muscle curves.

Sting looked at the Japanese man kneeling in the living room, scratched his head and asked, "Where is Muharrad?"

This sentence was spoken in Japanese, which was a bit awkward.

He didn't understand Japanese very well. He only had time to learn this sentence, and he couldn't understand Japanese.

But he didn't worry about communication problems. The earphones customized by the Secret Service could transmit the sound here to his companions, and the translator who was proficient in Japanese could explain to him clearly what the Oriental man in the room was saying at the same time.

Kinjiro Matsuki shook his head and said: "I don't know, that weird man just told me to stay here and not move.

He even killed my family.

In front of me, my mother, wife, and daughter were torn apart bit by bit with my hands, like shredded paper.

Even my thumb was torn off by him! "

At the end of the words, Matsuki Kinjiro could no longer hold back the fear in his heart. He shouted and raised his right hand. His thumb had long since disappeared, only a white oval bandage was wrapped around it.

"Ahhh!"

Sting ignored his screams of collapse, glanced around, raised his head and said: "Muharrad, I know you must be in this mansion.

Stop hiding, what's the point of this? "

As he spoke, he bent down and broke off the toes of the corpse and threw them towards Kinjiro Matsuki who was screaming in front of him.

A person's toes in his hands are the bullets that take away lives.

Snap, blood burst out from Kinjiro Matsuki's heart, and he fell backwards, unable to make a sound anymore.

The explosion that Sting imagined did not come, and he frowned slightly. He thought that this man had already been made into an explosive bomb by Muharrad.

Zizzi!There was a harsh sound, and Sting's expression changed. He immediately guessed that something was wrong with his companion, and quickly turned around and ran outside.

……

Sting ran out of the mansion and stopped in the hallway.

The moonlight is good tonight, and a head suddenly flies up from the wall covered with moonlight.

Her long blond hair was flying in the air, her cheeks lost their color, and blood splattered from her neck.

Sting stood there, his hands clenched into fists, veins stretching across his arms and neck.

He and Kano have been cooperating for some years. The two parties are not only colleagues and friends, but also have close and in-depth exchanges of feelings.

It's just that Kano is a non-marriage person and bisexual, so he has never agreed to Sting's pursuit.

"Muharrad!"

He roared, and crushed the wooden planks of the corridor with his feet. He fell down and stood on the ground.

A tall figure climbed out of the wall into the courtyard.

The man has short hair, a dark complexion, but not black, and no beard on his face.

"No nonsense, let's do it."

Muharrad shook off the blood on his hand and said expressionlessly: "After I deal with you, I have to welcome the next wave of guests."

"You are really arrogant!"

Sting laughed angrily, lifted his feet from the hole, and walked out of the corridor, staring at Muharrad in front of him with his eyes, "It seems that you have forgotten how I chased you around before.

Does the death of your subordinate make you dizzy? "

Muharrad did not speak, but stretched out his right hand in a posture of strength competition.

Sting smiled, quite confident in his grip, an unopened box of playing cards.

He only had to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger to break off a piece, leaving the entire box of playing cards missing.Not to mention the human body.

Any flesh and blood body that is pinched by his two fingers will become as soft as the yellow soil after a heavy rain, and the bones inside will be as crispy as Lay's potato chips.

He can even boast that he has the strongest grip in the United States.

If Muharrad competed with him, he might still have a chance to win, but he simply chose grip strength.

That's really asking for death.

Sting took long strides towards Muharrad, and did not simply trust the opponent to compete with him for grip strength.

He had been guarding against the other party's conspiracy. At this moment, his huge and heavy body took the light steps of a big cat.

It looks like he is taking a leisurely stroll, but in fact he can break out into a thunderous attack at any time.

Muharrad did not make any movement, one hand was still in his pocket, and his right hand was stretched forward.

He wasn't worried about any sneak attacks from Sting.

A man like this also has pride in his heart, which is pride in strength, such as his belief in Allah.

Sting's faith is that armor-like muscles, and this faith is destined that he will not resist any grip strength competition.

……

The distance between the two keeps getting closer.

When he reached the appropriate range, Sting grabbed Muharrad's right hand with his right hand and said with a ferocious smile: "You're done!"

As he spoke, his five fingers exploded with powerful grip.

Even if it is steel, at this moment, he is confident that he can flatten it into a piece of iron like a playing card.

There was no reaction on Mohanrad's face under Sting's crazy right hand.

The blue veins appeared on the palms and arms. Sting gritted his teeth, and a low roar like a tiger's roar burst out from between his teeth.

Even so, the expression on Muharrad's face did not change. He clenched his right hand suddenly and shouted: "Your brute strength is not worth mentioning in my eyes."

As he finished speaking, Sting could feel his right hand whining, and his muscles, bones, and even nerves were reminding him.

My own strength is far inferior to that of the man in front of me.

After discovering this, Sting had no fear in his heart.

As a martial artist, he only has a small space under his feet, but he has a vast world in his heart.

Once a dispute arises, life or death can be determined in a matter of seconds.

Rather than wasting extra time on fear, it is better to fight to the end with all your strength.

Sting twisted his waist, using his left foot as a fulcrum, and clenched his left hand into a fist, like a flying hammer hitting Muharrad's face.

Muharrad's right hand suddenly lifted, and Sting, who weighed nearly [-] pounds, flipped in the air like a child's toy. His left fist naturally missed, and his right foot suddenly enlarged rapidly in his eyes, giving him no chance to dodge.

boom!
A dull voice sounded.

At the critical moment of life and death, Sting chose to hit Muharrad's foot with his hard forehead.

He avoided the outcome of his eyes being kicked out by this person, but it also caused a slight shock to his brain.

Muharrad did not miss this brief opportunity and once again grabbed his right arm and directly lifted him up.

The left hand grasps forward with the claws of an eagle.

With a hiss, there was a soft sound. Muharrad's left hand had already pinched the pale throat bone, mixed with blood and skin, exuding a kind of enchanting beauty.

"Ho ho."

Sting's throat was filled with blood and his eyes widened.

His turbulent brain calmed down at this moment, and it was at this moment that he realized clearly that Muharrad had not used his full strength all this time.

why?
Sting could no longer ask this sentence.

It was obvious that his throat had been torn open and the wind kept pouring into it, but there was still a feeling of suffocation that made him unable to breathe.

His huge body became swaying, as if a man had drunk more liquor than he could drink.

Muharrad let go.

Sting could no longer stand. He fell back and made a thud on the ground. Blood overflowed from his throat, flowing through his neck and quickly forming a pool of blood on the ground.

The bubbles that bubbled up from time to time proved that Sting still had some breath left.

"It is really sad to have tenacious vitality that does not match your strength. This is also the punishment given to you by Allah."

Muharrad watched this scene and turned around to greet the next wave of guests.

According to his calculations, the CIA group that attacked him at noon should not miss this opportunity.

Sting could only be described as an unexpected visitor.

Let him vent his anger a little, the real owner is still that group.

Muharrad walked outside the courtyard.

Under the moonlight, the air vibrated invisible, and a tall blond figure suddenly appeared, standing on the ground.

The air at the scene instantly became anxious.

The fair skin, strong body and the way he appeared beyond ordinary people's imagination made Muharrad stay on the spot, and then a strong look of excitement appeared on his face, and he growled: "Dior, I finally see you. "

(End of this chapter)