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                                                                                                                                                                驼背的进攻越来越快，剑锋到处，划过破空之声，让雨夜的下雨声和剑锋的声音融为一体，但无论他怎么进攻，都无法伤及到黑衣人的一分一毫。
                                                                                                                                                                时间一点点流逝，驼背的气力，在不断的消耗中，终究开始减弱，他的招式越来越涩，动作开始迟钝起来。就在这时，黑衣人突然出手了，那是一柄断刃，顶多只有两尺长，比起驼背的长剑，要显得短小多少。但就是这柄短剑，重重地敲击在了驼背的长剑的最薄弱的地方。
                                                                                                                                                                
                                                                                                                                                                
                                                                                                                                                                巨大的力道，将驼背的长剑立即正分，然而驼子并没有反应，因为他来不及反应，剑锋就到了他的脖颈前，驼背甚至都没有来得及感受绝望，冰凉的剑刃就已经架在了他的头旁。
                                                                                                                                                                驼背笑了笑，笑声中似乎感受不到恐惧，更多的是一种酸涩：“动手吧，我早就是个死人了。”
                                                                                                                                                                但黑衣人却并没有动手，只是说道：“我要的不是你的命，在我眼里，你本就和死人没有区别。”
                                                                                                                                                                “那你要什么。”
                                                                                                                                                            

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