Black Bullet Volume 7 Novels & Stories

" Let's see about that." Bianca aims her gun at me. The hammer is turned off, so she can't do any harm until she cocks that gun. I strike at her first, hitting the gun out of her hand with the weapon in my hand. The gun falls out of her hand, sliding to the corner of the room. Bianca lunges at me, throwing blows upon blows as I duck. We fall into a brawl, me trying to hit her as much as possible with the wood in my hand. She grunts, groans as she throws another punch my way. Her knuckles come in contact with my bleeding head, doing more damage. I hissed in pain.

Elizabeth " Black, black, black ace, have you any bullets? 🎶 Yes I, Yes I, Yes I do. 🎶 One for the joker, one for Queen, and one for the little diamond that just got his b--tt kicked. 🎶. (clicks gun) Standing above Diamond with a cruel smile and a wild look in her eyes, Elizabeth finally pulled the trigger, shooting down at her teammate. She laughed wickedly as she continued to fire the gun unstop. After firing 12 rounds of bullets, the barrel was empty and the bloody massacre was finally over. Seeing that her work was done, Elizabeth continued to laugh hysterically under the bright moon light. As soon as she was done, she gathered all 3 bodies of her dead teammates inside the car she cam

Fallon realized that the dark beast-rearing method from the Nefarious Deity Sect suited the Dhuta Beast quite well. Moreover, its level surpassed Tack's zombies by a lot, which upset Tack. Tack's position as leader lasted only a day. It was like playing a game and winning only a day of being the leader. Carla and Norm next heard a mysterious voice that taught them the Blackness Technique. The technique could absorb the light all around them. It could catch the opponent unawares while fighting. They could even use it on anyone they wanted to. All four of them were given an opportunity each in a short time.

At least three bullets made it to his chest and as he adjusted his aim to where I was now, I jump instinctively, my claw lengthening, the gun falling on the ground, useless. I went straight for his neck faster than he could aim. His gun pressed uselessly against my flank as I grabbed whatever I could and pulled. I felt the cartilage of his oesophagus shatter under my grip, the blood pouring on my hand as my elongated claws dug all the way through, scrapping on the spine on the way. Whatever warm flesh and muscles were there, came out as I pulled my fist away. Blood sprayed on my face, I felt the warm wet trickle splash on my skin and drip down in a disturbingly soft caress. The metallic scen

Soon, the three men stood together in silence, smoke curling into the night air as they anxiously waited for news. "Belle is a fighter," Park finally broke the silence after exhaling a stream of smoke. "She's not going to give up now that she has you and Neo." Ethan lowered his gaze and took another drag. "She is," he admitted quietly. "She's always been brave." His voice cracked. "But I'm still scared." He released a shaky breath. The nicotine did nothing to calm him. Fear and doubt continued to claw at his mind, threatening to consume him whole. "Belle is a mother now," Darvid said thoughtfully while flicking ash from his cigarette.

"I'll go in first. Like it or not, we're going to do what we have to do to take them down." Seven nodded as a low menacing growl erupted from deep within his throat. I could see that he was in the mood for some payback. I peered down the hallway, and several hunters turned with assault rifles in hand, so I gunned them down, trying to spare their lives where I could. Walking down the hallway, I kicked a weapon out of reach of one that was alive as I passed. The man popped up and grabbed my leg, but Seven ripped out his throat and blood splattered over his fur. He looked up at me and spat out a chunk of the man, and nodded, ready to go.

Steven’s smile vanished, and he raised his hand all of a sudden. Bang! A custom bullet shot toward Dustin at a speed far beyond that of an ordinary round. Steven’s face was filled with confidence. At this range, not even the strongest Martial Saint could avoid the shot. The bullet reached Dustin in an instant. But the next moment, Steven’s face froze, and his pupils dilated in disbelief. Dustin had caught the bullet between two fingers and smoke was still curling from it. “That… That’s impossible…” Steven stammered. “That bullet was crafted by the legendary blacksmith, Raymond Leroy! Not even an Apex Martial Saint could block it, and you caught it with your bare hand!”

She almost didn't dare to open her eyes, afraid that the bullet would just be closer, but she did. Standing in front of her, snarling, was Blake. His brown hair grew longer by the second and fur erupted along the edge of his shoulders, poking out from the now ripped seams of his jacket. She could see the fear in Colonel Bronn's eyes as a beast of his own creation stared him down. He held a bloodied hand to his chest, the red streaks leaking onto his uniform. Her brother had swiped the gun out of his hand and it had skittered across the floor and under one of the tanks. Blake made a horrible howling noise, something trapped between human and wolf, and lunged for the Colonel.

She cut herself and held out her hand in the air, so the blood dropped into the sacred bowl. " Hold your hands together so the cuts meet," he said. I turned and faced her, her pretty face was a charm on its own and I found myself struggling to concentrate. I stretched out my hands to her, she did the same and placed her cut palm on mine. A spark was felt and I knew she felt it as well. The fire began to burn so well. Our wolves began to collide and I was struggling to breathe. It seemed the two wolves were trying to become one and we were the ones being affected by it.

Survival was more than just pulling a trigger; it meant knowing when to pull it, who to aim at, and making sure they never got back up. Traitors hid behind expensive suits and fake smiles, knives ready to strike my back. But they forgot one thing: I played by the rules until someone played me dirty. And when they did, the retribution I served was tenfold. No one played me for a fool and lived. The cigarette had burned down to the filter. I crushed it into the ashtray, grinding it until the ember died. The tray wobbled on the edge of the table. My hand shot out to steady it, but the booze in my system dulled my reflexes. It tipped over, shattering into a thousand glinting shards.