I Became the King of Villains In the Game Chapter 117

  Chapter 117 Gallery of Bones-Part 1

   "Guang Yao."

  Beckman's brush touched the oil painting a little, and immediately stretched out his index finger, which burst into dazzling brilliance.

  The entire gallery is brightly illuminated, and a shadow appears on the ceiling, which is particularly eye-catching.

   "Damn it!"

  The man in the tuxedo cursed under his breath.

  The shadow moved quickly, along the ceiling and wall, and headed out of the gallery.

   "Where is the soul going? Go to sleep quickly..."

   Roderick's deep voice sounded.

  The speed of the shadow gradually slowed down, and finally stopped. Roderick raised his right arm high, pointing his fingers emitting black light at the shadow. The latter was trembling and twisting, as if struggling and resisting.

  Zi la...

  Mona took out her revolver and slid the magazine.

   She wiped her other hand on her waist, and a golden bullet appeared between her fingers, and then quickly pressed and loaded the bullet, and raised the revolver to aim at the shadow.

  A pair of cat's eyes appeared on the badge on her chest, and Meng Na's eyes flashed a purple halo.

  Boom!

  The revolver shot out a golden flame, and the bullet streaked across a golden light, just like sunlight shining into the shadow, hitting the shadow on the wall.

"what!"

  A scream resounded through the gallery.

  The man in the tuxedo in the shadows fell straight and hit the ground with a bang.

  In his left chest atrium, there was a penetrating wound the size of a baby's fist. The wound seemed to have been burned by high temperature, and it was charred and charred.

  The tuxedo collapsed to the ground, twisting and struggling.

   "Nice job, Mona."

   Roderick calmly praised, but the latter didn't respond, and kept his gun away.

  The paintbrush in Beckman's hand was getting faster and faster, and finally a black oil paint was drawn, dragging a long shadow on the painting. In this shadow, countless pairs of malicious eyes suddenly opened.

   "The power of the conspiracy really makes the hair stand on end. I named this masterpiece "Peeping"...It's great. Of all the paintings, I like this one the most!"

  Beckman stopped his paintbrush, announcing the completion with a look of excitement.

  The man in the tuxedo stopped struggling and stood still like a sculpture. When the painting was completed, his spirituality was completely drained, leaving only a dead body.

   "Are we saved?"

   "Oh Sun, thank you so much!"

  The guests suddenly felt grateful for the survivors, and thanked Beckman, Roderick and other shelter staff. Some of them understand the mysterious field, and some are seeing it for the first time today, but the whole is in a state of shock.

  Noah's clenched fists slowly loosened, and he sighed a little dejectedly.

  Floy quietly withdrew from the crowd, walked slowly to the place where the corpses of the circus members disappeared, and bent down to pick up the "small objects" that had fallen out on the ground.

   "These are important to him..."

   She thought to herself, silently picking up all the small objects in the blind spot where no one noticed.

  No one left.

   It seems that the matter has come to an end, and someone remembered the weirdness of this exhibition, and was going to ask Beckman.

   Roderick organized investigators to appease the guests, while Beckman on the side had a strange expression on his face.

  Puff Chi-!

  The crowd widened their eyes and saw a terrifying scene.

  The face of a noble lady in the front was even spattered with blood.

  Commissioner Roderick's chest was pierced by a black shadow-like paintbrush. His face showed disbelief, and he turned his head to look at the maddened Beckman.

   "Ahhh!"

  The lady screamed.

  Beckman turned his head and raised his hand to slap.

  With a bang, the entire head of the lady was beaten into pulverized blood, the sound stopped abruptly, and her body fell straight.

   "Hush."

  Beckman pulled out his blood-stained palm, stretched out an index finger and placed it in front of his mouth.

   Everyone suddenly realized that they could no longer make any sound and opened their mouths without words.

   "You... you're crazy, Beckman."

   Roderick clutched his chest, tried his best to delay the injury with black light, and squinted his eyes at the other party.

   "It still needs more, and you can also be a very good work, Mr. Correspondent..."

  Beckman looked around, seeing everyone's terrified expressions.

  "Everyone present can become a member of the painting."

   Panic begins to boil.

   All the guests suddenly realized that the most terrifying behind-the-scenes man behind all this was the gallery owner Beckman. Not only does he act as a double agent, but he also wants to take both sides and kill everyone.

   This is a madman!

  After recovering from the shock just now, the investigators raised their guns and shot at Beckman.

   Bang bang bang bang bang...!

  The oil painting "Peeping" that he had just painted appeared in the back of Beckman's mind. He was covered in black shadows and swallowed the bullet without causing any waves.

  The oil painting on the back of the head switched to "Pupil in the Painting". With a glance, the investigators fell down one after another clutching their hearts like straw in the autumn wind.

   "Beckmann!"

   Roderick scolded angrily, raised his hand and released a wave of black light.

  Beckman smiled, and the painting in the back of his head switched again, this time it became "The Deserter". I saw the corner of his mouth split open, opened his mouth and swallowed it, and directly ate the black light wave.

   Immediately afterwards, Black smoke rose from Beckman's body, and his momentum increased.

   "Death is also a delicacy."

  Beckman's deep laughter echoed.

  With his laughter, the entire gallery began to change drastically, and the wall coverings, carpets, and decorations "melted" one after another, as if the skin had been peeled off, exposing the underlying blood vessels, muscles, and bones...

  The entire gallery suddenly became a **** of flesh and bones!

  A pungent blood filled the air, and everyone fell into extreme fear!

  Beckman gently raised his hand, and a giant easel rose from the ground. He picked up the brush and began to paint. Soon, under the terrified eyes of everyone, Viscount Picot, Councilor Lawson, Countess Bradley and some well-known figures all froze, their eyes were empty, and they fell down expressionlessly.

   On the **** wall, their portraits slowly emerged, lifelike.

   Everyone opened their mouths wide and shouted, but there was no sound.

  Some people cried bitterly, some broke down and roared, but it was all like a silent drama.

   Silent hell, deadly silence.

   "Mr. Beckman! This is a taint to art! You are just a murderer who uses art as an excuse, a poor wretch who is immersed in himself!"

  Noah finally couldn't bear the suffering, defeated himself, and stood up bravely.

  He opened his mouth silently, but everyone could feel his anger and reprimand.

  They suddenly felt a burst of shame. In the past, this ugly and fat rich man was the object of their disdain and contempt.

  But now, the other party is the only one who dares to stand up.

  Under Noah's anger, his figure became even bigger, and his fat began to shrink, turning into bulging muscles. He strode forward, raised his fist and threw it at Beckman.

Snapped!

  Beckman raised a hand and received the menacing punch with a smile.

  The next moment, Noah was shocked to find that his body was out of control and was frozen in place.

   "It's a good model, Mr. Noah...I said that there is one of your works here, of course you did it yourself."

  Beckman said, turning the easel in front of him upside down.

  Everyone could see clearly, there was a tall and strong figure on the canvas, maintaining a posture of punching. Exactly the same as Noah, like looking in a mirror.

   "I've already thought of the name, it's—"The Shy Brave"."

  Noah suddenly felt that his spirituality was passing, and his body became weaker and weaker.

   Just when Noah thought he was going to completely turn into an oil painting and die, a puff of silver smoke floated in the Gallery of Bones.

   "Beckman! Let go of my brother!"

  A cold female voice appeared.

   Thank you beautiful woman—

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  (end of this chapter)

Chapter end