Chapter 46 Sherlock MoriartyTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 5591 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-09 19:51:14
In a single-family house in the East District of Backlund.
Compared to the average housing situation in the East District, this room was exceptionally spacious and clean. Of course, this was also because the room did not have the proper furniture. The desk was replaced by a door panel supported by two piles of wooden boxes, and the chairs were not quite matched, and there were two or three extra chairs, which were randomly stacked and placed in the corner.
This is one of the safe houses Douglas bought in the East District. Right now, there are two people sitting opposite each other in the room, and the atmosphere is subtly similar to a student who has not done his homework being called into the teacher's office. Douglas subconsciously straightened his back and sat upright, folding his hands above his knees, rubbing them together with a little uneasiness.
The young man with slightly curly black hair and wearing a monocle leaned against the table in a relaxed posture, flipping through the pages of the notebook spread out on the table.
"'Slice the tenderloin thinly, add eggs and starch, a little salt, a little beer...'"
Turning to the next page, Amon continued reading: "'Fry twice... two spoons of sugar, one spoon of vinegar, one spoon of lemon juice, you can use orange juice or tomato juice instead, and cook the sauce until it thickens'..."
He looked at the ingredient list and wondered what the dish should taste like. He flipped through a few pages and looked at the recipes for "Braised Spare Ribs", "Stir-fried Lamb with Scallions", and "Pilaf".
"What a good attitude."
With a snap, Amon closed the notebook that could be called a recipe book, and couldn't help but sigh, "I didn't see the role-playing rules, but you were very enthusiastic in cooking."
The person being evaluated was silent for a while before he weakly replied, "You have to eat every day... Acting is not something that can be completed in a week or two..."
And it's not like he didn't act at all… It's just that compared to the "apprentice" who is more inclined to restrain himself, the digestion of the "master of magic" requires more feedback from the outside world. The simplest and safest way is to directly sign up for the circus and become a real "master of magic".
But Douglas doesn't really want to perform the ball-catching act on the streets. On the one hand, he is socially anxious and wants to save face. On the other hand, abnormal behavior that is too public can easily be discovered by the church. So he is still figuring out the rules of the role and the specific way of acting.
"With the knowledge of the role-playing method, the normal speed for low-sequence potions to be digested is about one month."
"...?"
An emotion called "I don't understand but I'm shocked" was vividly displayed on Douglas' face.
Although he knew that role-playing could significantly increase the speed of digestion, referring to the church's tradition of at least one year and at most three years, the most daring estimate he could make was around three months.
The direct combat power provided by the "Master of Magic" is 0, so for Douglas, who is likely to clash with a higher sequence in the next two weeks, it is not cost-effective to spend time digesting potions to increase his ability limit. It is better to find something else that can provide combat power.
If the digestion time can be compressed to within a month, it would be safer to advance first... Thinking of this, his brows suddenly jumped and he asked, "Will my next sequence...have any improvement in combat?"
"No." Amon didn't know what he was thinking about, and suddenly smiled. "The 'Apprentice' path is formed very late. It is only when you reach Sequence 6 or even Sequence 5 that this path really begins."
This, this night is a bit too much, Sequence 6 is already a mid-sequence! Other paths are showing off, only the "apprentice" is being beaten? Douglas's eyes drifted a little, and he began to think about whether to buy a life insurance for himself, and fill in Verity as the beneficiary.
On second thought, I realized that there is no life insurance for extraordinary events in this world. The closest system is the church's death pension, which is paid directly for ten years based on the current salary level and has a higher claim rate than any commercial insurance.
...No, it's better not to take the money. He coughed lightly and tried to change the subject: "You asked me to pay attention to the 'Backlund Great Smog'... I tried to find some relevant information, but I still have some doubts."
Three days have passed since our last meeting. Today is April 14th, and tomorrow is the meeting time scheduled in the message released by Douglas.
To be honest, the quality of MI9's informants is really high. With the help of various channels, when Douglas went to church this morning, he found that a copy of the message he delivered in English had been obtained by Anthony, who was well-versed in linguistics.
Looking at the young vampire who was carefully comparing the text structure, God knows how much effort he put in to control the corners of his mouth from curling up.
He also gave a few correct but unfounded interpretations, which successfully led Anthony to an incorrect direction. After all, Douglas was a layman in linguistics, and his remarks were completely speculative, without any credible analysis or value.
But after feeling some signs of the potion being digested, Douglas couldn't smile anymore.
Rather, this is the real reason why he stopped acting.
Amon, who was sitting opposite him, had somehow stole his thoughts again and laughed, "Why resist? No matter what method is used, the core of digestion is inseparable from the deception and concealment that you hate. If deceiving strangers is less sinful, then isn't it also a sin to decide the target of deception based on the closeness of the relationship?"
Douglas had gradually gotten used to Amon's style of judging his thoughts at any time. He hesitated for a moment before responding, "You are right, but the basis of my judgment is not the moral standard, but whether I can accept it. Besides, my sequence is not to the point where I have to do evil to digest it... Sometimes, the consequences are good enough."
"Eh." Amon put on a surprised expression and raised his hand to adjust the position of his monocle. "So, you are even more heartless than I thought."
"…"
Douglas was about to say something but stopped himself. He clenched his hands on his knees into fists, then slowly loosened them. He felt that the way High-Sequence Experts think is a little different from his own.
He took a deep breath, pretended that this conversation had never happened, and continued the previous topic: "I mean... although I have done a lot of research along the clues of the 'big smog', I still don't understand what other more noteworthy connections this incident has with me. Uh, besides the witch sect..."
Although he had a relatively leisurely life these days, Douglas still did what he had to do. He searched through the old newspapers kept in the municipal library and found the archives of extraordinary events within the church. He first picked out an investigative reporter named "Mike Joseph" from the voluminous materials.
The reporter's several reports on the smog were reprinted by major newspapers and published on the headlines many times. The repeated appearance of a name easily caught Douglas' attention, so he began to look through Mike Joseph's past reports, combined with his incomplete memory, trying to find the key points of the incident.
After finding several iconic cases, Douglas took advantage of his position in the church to find the corresponding files, and for the first time learned the secrets behind the "Great Smog" incident from the perspective of the extraordinary world.
After discovering that the essence of the "Great Smog" was a sacrifice prepared by the Witch Cult and the Aurora Society for the coming of the evil god, and also a promotion ceremony for a high-ranking member of the Witch Cult, Douglas combined the two conditions that he was a member of the Gnostic Society in the past and that the Gnostic Society was a subordinate organization of the Witch Cult, and realized that "he" was also one of the accomplices of the "Great Smog" in a broad sense. He suddenly felt nauseous as if he had eaten a cockroach alive.
And I feel sick every time I think about it.
Not to mention that he is now being threatened by a "witch" to maintain superficial cooperation. This feeling is so disgusting - it's disgusting to the extreme.
At this time, Amon suddenly laughed and asked with interest: "I am very curious. The Lingzhi Society is mainly composed of 'assassins'. Why didn't 'you' choose the 'assassin' path at that time?"
"I don't know... the memories I inherited are not very complete." Douglas understood what Amon meant, but he couldn't give an answer. He didn't care much about this question, but when he got to this point, he couldn't help but be curious, "Will the 'Assassin' path be stronger?"
"Each path excels in different areas. The frontal combat capability of the 'Assassin' is much stronger than your current one, but it also has a fatal flaw..."
The God of Mischief narrowed his eyes and said briskly, "After reaching Sequence Seven, 'Witch', this path will force males to transform into females."
...Fuck! Douglas couldn't control his behavior for a moment, and jumped up impulsively, almost overturning the chair he was sitting on.
At this moment, all he had in his mind was the purest Chinese swear words and a useless thought:
If I had chosen "Assassin" back then, I could have changed my gender now!!!
After standing there in a daze for several seconds, he stretched out a hand, fumbled to straighten the chair and sat down again, looking at Amon with a complicated expression.
As if he knew what he was thinking, Amon said in one breath:
"'Apprentice' will not force you to change your gender. In addition to 'Assassin', the 'Earth' path will also force you to change to a female at a high sequence, and the 'Hunter' path will change to a male. 'Apprentice' and the above are not interchangeable paths... Of course, before you met me, if you were willing to risk losing control and going crazy, you could advance across paths. But now there is no chance."
As He was speaking, He saw Douglas, who was sitting opposite Him, bend his back very slowly and bury his head in his arms, looking as if he didn't want to face reality.
So He adjusted His tone and said, thinking He was very kind, "It doesn't matter. I am different from the 'tyrant' and I don't care whether the believers are male or female."
The survivor of the old days moved his shoulders, raised his head slightly, and revealed a pair of puzzled eyes: "'Tyrant'...? Uh, this refers to the Storm..."
When it comes to the difference between men and women, Douglas first thinks of the teachings of the Church of the Storm. But "tyrant" doesn't seem to be a synonym for the church, but more like a reference to the highest level...
Before he finished speaking, his expression suddenly froze and he forgot what he was thinking at the moment. Amon's smile faded a little and he raised his finger to make a gesture to silence himself: "Okay, let's get down to business."
Business... Douglas thought about the progress of the conversation and found that there was indeed no progress in business today, but he gained a lot of mystical knowledge that he didn't want to know. It felt like he seemed to have made a profit, but in fact he had lost a lot.
Amon changed his posture, shifting his body weight from right to left, resting his chin on his left palm, and said lightly, "Before you, besides Roselle, there were several others... um, 'travelers', is that what they are called?"
When this topic was mentioned, Douglas immediately became extremely focused and listened attentively.
"Before and after the 'Great Smog' incident, there was a 'time traveler' who played a huge role in it. His former name was 'Sherlock Moriarty' and he was a private detective."
Douglas was stunned for a moment. Three years had passed, and he couldn't help but feel some inexplicable respect for this senior...
Look at the name, it's really well-chosen! Holmes was silent after hearing it, the professor cried after hearing it, and Watson might pick up his cane and hit the head of this predecessor who loves to play memes.
After digesting the speechless emotions for a while, he couldn't help but ask: "And then?"
"Did you find any obvious loopholes when investigating the 'Great Smog'?" Amon did not answer directly, but instead raised a new question.
"Uh," Douglas frowned and pondered for a while before answering hesitantly, "If I have to say... I feel like the cause and effect don't match up, and some key details are missing."
In 1349, many extraordinary events with far-reaching impacts occurred one after another in Backlund. Since Douglas searched for materials along the timeline of the newspaper, he had a very clear understanding of the sequence of these events from the beginning, and also discovered some interconnected parts based on his own experience.
For example, the East District missing persons case and the subsequent murder of a human trafficker named "Kapin" by unknown forces, there is a complete chain of connections between the two cases, and even "Douglas" himself was part of this chain.
However, looking further ahead and examining the root causes of the smog, Douglas discovered that there was a lack of necessary connection between human trafficking and the goals that the Witch Cult wanted to achieve.
Generally speaking, the trafficked people are most likely used to sacrifice to the evil gods. The church's report mentioned the cleansing of the Aurora Society and the Witch Cult, but did not mention the whereabouts of the missing people, such as the number of deaths. This is unreasonable.
If they were not used by the Aurora Society and the Witch Cult, why did the Witch Cult order its subordinate organizations to collect population data for several years? Where did the tens of thousands of missing people end up?
As far as Douglas knew, this was the only unexplained clue in the whole series of events that lacked any connection.
"Remember this sense of disharmony," Amon said to him with a slight smile after listening to his narration, "This is a sign. Behind all the major events in the Extraordinary World in the past three years, 'That One' has been involved. Of course, He has used many identities. It depends on you whether you can discover Him or not."
He? Noticing Amon's address to the traverser, Douglas felt a little more respect for him.
To be able to use this pronoun, one must be at least a Sequence 2 or higher... Why do I feel like the senior travelers are all doing well? There was Roselle before, and Sherlock after. Both of them can be confirmed to be angel-level beings, and they have left many deeds in the extraordinary world...
After thinking quietly for a while, he looked at Amon with a strange expression: "You... asked me to investigate the 'big smog' just to tell me this news?"
"That's not a wrong understanding."
The latter answered casually while standing up slowly. He politely took off his wizard hat and pressed it against his chest. He did not bow, but he looked like he was ready to leave.
What do you mean by not wrong? Give me a definite answer... Are all high-sequence people riddle-like? Douglas muttered to himself and stood up. Before Amon left, he stopped Him with a try-it-out mentality: "Wait a moment, I have an unwelcome request..."
Amon nodded slightly, waiting for him to speak.
Then He saw the survivors of the old days take a few deep breaths, maintain a very serious expression, and begin to recite his own name in the Hermetic language with a somewhat awkward pronunciation.
Amon: "…"
To be honest, being called by his honorable name was quite unfamiliar to Him.
After all, there are faster ways for clones to communicate with each other. As for other beings who have recited this honorable name, they later became convenient clones.
It was almost, just almost, and Amon was about to give the other party a monocle as usual.
Feeling the illusory prayer sounds overlapping with the real sounds in his ears, he recalled that the last time this happened was when Mr. Fool used him to locate the Dark Wolf... Thinking of this, he actually felt a little nostalgic.
So He decided to listen carefully to the request of His nominal believers, and consider fulfilling it if it was not too excessive.
If it's troublesome, steal his memory and make him forget about it.
"...I pray for your attention, for your favor, for you..." Douglas had finished his prayer. He observed Amon's expression, gritted his teeth, and spoke the specific content of his prayer quickly but clearly, "...give your loyal believers something to protect themselves."
After the words fell, silence fell between the man and the mythical creature.
Douglas felt that it would take all his courage to look into those dark eyes. He could hear his heartbeat getting faster and faster, could feel the cold sweat oozing from his forehead, could feel himself starting to tremble slightly, and breathing seemed to become a difficult thing...
But soon, Amon snorted and laughed, and the inexplicable pressure in the room disappeared immediately. Douglas felt relieved and his mind became active instantly.
"You didn't ask me for help the last time we met." The God of Mischief dusted off the nonexistent dust on his wizard hat, put it back on his head, and when he looked up again, he had a subtle smile on his face. "I want to hear the reason why you changed your mind."
"Well... I just think that it would be a bit, uh, disrespectful to expect you to come to my aid at any time in a life-and-death situation. Wouldn't it be easier and more convenient to give me some help from outside so that I can solve the problem on my own instead of bothering you to do it yourself?"
After a brief pause, he continued very honestly: "Moreover, the price to be paid for 'please do it yourself' and 'borrow an item that can provide attack power' is different. I can't afford the former for the time being."
These are all true thoughts... Amon can draw accurate conclusions with a brief judgment. He touched his chin and laughed:
"Oh? Then what makes you think you can afford the latter? Even if it's just to make a talisman, it requires the correct rituals and supplies to please the gods. Now you are begging me with empty words, do you think I will agree?"
"My opinion is not important. If you give, it is God's tolerance and mercy; if you refuse, it is a test for me." Douglas stood straight in front of Him, as if he was a devout believer with a calm expression, "Everything is subject to your will."
The "forgiving and merciful" God of Mischief crossed his arms in front of him, tilted his head slightly, and seemed to be thinking.
Finally, He raised His right hand and made a grasping motion out of thin air, "taking" a thin glove out of the air and casually threw it to Douglas.
The latter looked slightly surprised, but quickly reached out to catch it. The moment he touched the glove, the cold leather made Douglas shiver, and his spirit trembled slightly, as if reminding him how dangerous the thing in his hand was.
"This is 'Creeping Hunger', a special item corresponding to Sequence 5 'Shepherd'."
Amon had a strange smile on his face and briefly introduced: "Its previous owner was the one who used to be called 'Sherlock', the 'traveler'."Chapter 47: Fear of MushroomsTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4451 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-10 15:30:02
The seal used by the predecessor of the time traveler... rounded up to a holy relic! Douglas couldn't help but look at the gloves twice more, stroking its cold surface, and couldn't help feeling a little excited.
Firstly, since this item corresponded to the level of Sequence Five, it must be very powerful. Secondly, being able to obtain items related to other time travelers made him unable to suppress his fantasies and expectations, and he looked forward to getting more clues related to time travel through Amon in the future.
Then Amon's words were like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, stating the reality coldly:
"Its negative effect is that it must be fed with the flesh and blood of a living person within 24 hours of use, otherwise it will turn around and devour the owner."
The flesh and blood of a living person... Douglas's expression froze, and he suddenly felt that what he was holding in his hand was not a treasure, but a time bomb.
He had some understanding of extraordinary items, and knew that there were certain restrictions on the preservation and use of such items, some of which were quite demanding, and some were just strange, but not difficult. These negative effects also largely determined the power that extraordinary items could exert.
After all, an extraordinary item that is difficult to use is futile no matter how powerful it is.
At the moment, "Creeping Hunger" is such an extraordinary item that is useful but destined to be unusable by him. In Douglas's cognition, feeding items with living people is as foolish and cruel as the rulers in ancient times praying for good weather with living sacrifices, which is no different from murder.
Not to mention using it, after learning about its negative effects, Douglas' first reaction was to send it to the church, seal it tightly, and prevent it from being spread out to harm the public.
The second reaction was that I felt like I had been given a hot potato that I couldn't get rid of, and that I was in a difficult situation:
He could not be cruel enough to exert the power of "creeping hunger" at the expense of others;
He was not stupid enough to carry this extraordinary item and never use it, thus causing the benefits he had obtained from Amon to be lost, while he still had to pay the corresponding price and face more risks;
It is even more impossible to return the "creeping hunger" to Amon!
Asking for things from those in higher positions, and then throwing them back to ask for replacements when they are not useful... This is simply because you think you have lived too long.
It's over. Douglas was in a state of collapse, yelling in his heart: Who could have thought that Amon would really give... and could easily pull out such a thing that could kill the situation!
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but look up and carefully examined Amon's expression.
He still had that leisurely look, smiling with interest, but his dark eyes revealed an undisguised mockery.
He even asked thoughtfully, "Any questions?"
Douglas shrank his shoulders subconsciously, his eyes began to wander, and after a long silence, he whispered in a trembling voice: "I was wrong..."
"What?" Amon seemed not to have heard clearly and took a step forward.
Obviously, there was not much difference in height, but this step caused the skinny Amon to block some of the light. The environment around Douglas suddenly became dim, as if dark clouds covered the sky, bringing a sense of oppression that was far heavier than imagined.
The already guilty survivors of the past shuddered, closed their eyes, and used up the last of their courage to surrender quickly: "I was wrong. I'm sorry, don't be angry. I shouldn't have lied to you, shouldn't have... uh, shouldn't have thought of taking shortcuts, shouldn't have been greedy and asked for your blessing... I won't dare to do it again. Please forgive me this time..."
Amon quickly extracted the key points from this pile of nonsense. He asked in a strange tone: "Acting...Are you digesting the potion?"
"I..."
"Any feedback?"
The courage that had been draining away like a flood seemed to return a little. Douglas obeyed his heart's will, swallowed what he wanted to say, and answered Amon's question first: "Yes, a little bit, when you gave me 'Creeping Hunger'..."
Adjusting his monocle, Amon suddenly laughed as inspiration flashed through his mind:
"Interesting, interesting.
"Your reasons and thoughts for asking for extraordinary items are real, but it still constitutes 'fraud', and the conditions are met when I meet your request... So, the role-playing code is to make people believe that you want to do thing A, but actually complete thing B?"
"..." Douglas couldn't help but open his eyes, with a hint of doubt in his eyes, "Since you know, why can I still feel the signs of digestion?"
If Amon knew the inside story from the beginning, it would mean that he had not been deceived, and his failed performance would naturally not receive any feedback.
"I had a guess, but I didn't expect you to be bold enough to use me as a role model." Amon admitted frankly.
Deceived, but not completely fooled. Logically, the role play should have failed, but His person and authority were too special, so the potion gave a small amount of honest feedback.
To be honest, without relying on stealing and deep parasitism to keep track of Douglas's thoughts, Amon is aware that the gap between his way of thinking and that of the old survivors is huge.
Just as He knew courage and sacrifice, but could not fully understand their meaning.
Therefore, although he intuitively discovered that Douglas's behavior was strange, because he did not know him well enough and decided not to steal his thoughts but to listen carefully to his prayers, Amon did not guess the correct result.
After all, Amon would never do such a suicidal behavior of "knowingly can't win and have no insurance measures but still want to try".
Interestingly, the last person He knew who dared to cross several sequences to intimidate others into digesting the potion was also a remnant of the Old Ones.
Should we say it is a common trait of the old survivors, or the influence of the top of the sequence, or simply that their mouths are faster than their brains... Amon adjusted his cognition slightly based on the two experiences without paying much attention, and said in a light tone: "If you can hide one more layer, or even more calculations, you will be quite qualified as a 'Master of Magic'."
Still hiding? How else can he hide? The magician is like a thousand-layer cake per person, right? Then he should change his name to pastry master? ... Douglas was speechless and confused for a while before he asked tentatively: "You, you are not angry..."
Amon glanced at him, shook his head and smiled: "I like all loopholes and frauds. Of course, this does not mean condoning them. Know your limits and don't give me the opportunity to punish you."
His only believer received the hint from his words, his eyes flickered a few times, and finally he lowered his head respectfully and whispered: "...I praise your tolerance."
Yes, this sentence sounds much more pleasant than before. Amon expressed satisfaction and pointed his index finger at the glove that was full of resentment but dared not move:
"Now it doesn't need human flesh and blood.
"But he will sing praises to the 'True Creator' three times a day, morning, noon, and evening. He is also afraid of mushrooms and will not use them if mushrooms appear within five meters of him."
Douglas: "...?"
The corners of his mouth, which had just shown a tendency to rise, became stiff again, and he felt confused and incomprehensible again.
Forget about the "True Creator", but can anyone tell me why a glove would be afraid of mushrooms…?
-
Black Olive Street is a relatively main street in the East District. It is of medium quality, which means that the workers living here have initially escaped from the stage of worrying about their next meal. They have a job and a relatively stable income, a little hope for their future life, and a small room to shelter from the wind and rain.
This street is also home to more hawkers, more pickpockets waiting for opportunities, and homeless people ready to transform into the former. During the period when workers go to work or leave work, the bustle here is no less than the department stores in Qiaowu District filled with customers.
Therefore, when Francois Lupo took off his Church of the Storm robe, put on a neat but ordinary shirt and wide-leg pants and stepped into the street, he did not attract much attention.
Of course, his strong and sturdy physique and the naturally majestic temperament still made the East District residents around him consciously or unconsciously keep a little distance away from him. They secretly guessed in their hearts which gang this person belonged to and that he looked like a good fighter.
Francois himself was unaware of this. Although he was surprised by the chaos and disorder in the East District, his mind was more focused on the next party. He carefully confirmed the number of each apartment building along the street, and finally found the number 18b written on the note.
Recalling how he felt when he saw that string of English characters, Francois' breathing became heavy and his heartbeat quickened slightly.
On the one hand, he was excited to find his kind in a different world. On the other hand, he had adapted to the identity of "Francois Lupo", the captain of the Storm Church's Punishers, in the past few months. He inevitably acquired the common characteristics of the Storm Sequence Extraordinaries: frank, straightforward, not good at, and not willing to conceal or control his emotions.
After all, there is nothing that I, the "angry people," cannot solve with one punch. If there is, I will punch you again.
Francois was an extraordinary being who was good at fighting, so he did not have too many fears. With one hand in his pocket, he calmly stepped onto the rotten stairs and went up to the second floor with a teeth-grinding creaking sound.
There was only one room on the second floor, and the door was closed. Francois stood in front of the door and listened attentively, but heard no movement.
He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.
That's right, April 15th, 7:05 in the evening.
Without further hesitation, he put away his pocket watch and confidently knocked on the door in front of him.
After waiting for a few seconds, footsteps were heard behind the door, followed by a question in English with a slight accent but clear enough: "Where are you coming from?"
There was a gleam in Francoia's gray-blue eyes. He took a deep breath and replied in a deep voice, "Australia."
The door opened, and a young man with messy black hair, pale yellow eyes, and a scar on the side of his face appeared in front of him. The two looked at each other for a few seconds, memorizing each other's facial features, and then the young man stretched out his hand, smiled and introduced himself: "You can call me Douglas."
"Francois." He stretched out his hand and shook it vigorously.
Douglas stepped aside to let him in and closed the door. Francois looked around the empty room. There was no furniture, only a simple table made of door panels, and three or four wooden armchairs were placed around it. There were gas lamps installed on the walls of the room, but only the one near the table was lit, illuminating half of the room.
The two sat down separately, keeping a distance from each other. Francois held the extraordinary item named "honesty" in his pocket and asked casually, "Are you from MI9?"
"Honest" is a pen corresponding to Sequence 9 "Audience", which can be used as long as physical contact is made. It can enhance the holder's observation ability, making it easier for the holder to tell whether the person being talked to is lying.
Although the ability is very simple, the advantage is that the negative effect is also very weak. Six hours after using it, the holder's emotions will be less controllable, and there is an urge to tell others his secrets. But as long as the will is firm, or he uses this pen to write down one of his secrets, the negative effect will be offset.
Francois, holding Honesty in his hand, saw Douglas raise his eyebrows and showed a little surprise, but he did not dodge or avoid: "I am not, but I guess, you are already a Beyonder?"
"Yes." Francois leaned back in his chair, not trying to hide his identity. "I am an official Beyonder of the Church of Storms."
In his opinion, he had the support of the most powerful Storm Church in Loen, and he was also a mid-sequence extraordinary person of sequence seven. He had good strength and background, so it should not be a problem for him to be the leader of a small group.
When he suddenly came to this strange world a few months ago, he was also confused and bewildered. But the identity of the Extraordinary Person of the Church provided him with convenience. As he learned more and more about the Extraordinary World, Francoia found himself a little addicted.
Who hasn't dreamed of being a superhero when they were little? With the vision and experience from his previous life, he accumulated merits within the church and soon became the captain of the "Manufactured Punishers" team, determined to one day infiltrate the church's upper echelons.
It was not until he discovered someone passing messages in English in the underground market that Francois realized that he was not the only protagonist of the era who had "traveled through time".
After a moment of disappointment, his ambitions expanded a bit, and he felt that his vision should not be limited to the church.
Starting your own business is what a real man should do!
So Francois showed his strength very frankly, hoping to take the lead in the conversation and accept his first younger brother.
Then he heard Douglas, who was a lot thinner than him, say "Oh" without any emotion and said with a smile: "What a coincidence, I... um, I'm from the Church of Mother Earth."
Francois was silent for a moment, then emphasized, "I already have a Sequence Seven, and I control a team of Mandated Punishers."
"Great, great." The other person nodded in praise sincerely, but showed no admiration or surprise at all.
Looking at Francois with a slightly confused look, Douglas couldn't help feeling a little envious, although he didn't know what he was thinking.
This brother from Australia has a very outgoing personality. It seems that he has not suffered any harsh beatings from society since he traveled through time. For example, he was threatened by a Sequence Three who showed up without warning to become a believer...
Well, everyone has their own experiences in life. There will be no harm if you don't compare them... He cleared his throat and was about to talk to Brother Storm about an important matter when he suddenly heard three knocks.
The wooden door was knocked again. Before Douglas could move, he saw Francois stand up and ask a question for him in a clear and loud voice: "Where are you coming from?"
All right. He flexed his left hand, which was wearing the Creeping Hunger, and looked toward the door expectantly, hoping that it was Winkel Einhorn who came.
But when the door was pushed open, a tall and thin boy appeared.
Douglas sighed lightly and was about to look away when he suddenly stood up, snapped his fingers, and lit all the gas lamps in the house.
A few orange flames immediately illuminated the room brighter, allowing him to see the boy's face clearly.
Douglas frowned and asked in a deep voice, "Is it you?"
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Brother Storm: I understand, I have traveled through time, I have magical powers, I have a good position in the church, I am the protagonist of the era! Not only do I want to compete with the Pope, but I also want to develop my own secret organization!
Leonard: I used to think I was the protagonist of the era...
Emlyn: I used to think I was the savior of the vampire race...
Alger: I was also a traitor of the Church of Storms in the past...Chapter 48: A MistakeTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 5131 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-11 15:30:02
The boy had a pair of cunning big eyes, and he felt that he looked very familiar. Finally, with the help of spiritual guidance, he managed to remember -
Isn't this Little John?
It was Little John who deliberately gave false clues to try to induce him to investigate Cortina during the investigation of the fire case in the East District. It was Little John who passed information to Winkel Einhorn among the intelligence given by Cortina and Terran.
"Who is he?" Francois looked puzzled, his eyes wandering between the two people, stroking the pen of "Honest" with his fingers, distinguishing the emotions of the two.
The tall and thin boy narrowed his eyes slightly and introduced himself: "I'm Little John."
Could it be that Little John was also a "time traveler"? Douglas recalled the situation when he first met him, but because there were too few details, he could not be sure. Just as he was about to ask further, he saw Francois stepping forward to block him and said very confidently: "He is lying!"
"Varied..."
Douglas and "Little John" both changed their expressions slightly. The former, whose sight was blocked, hurried to get out from behind Francois to get a grasp of the situation; the latter gently closed the door behind him.
The moment the door closed, Douglas' spiritual intuition moved slightly, and he felt that the room seemed to become more... "closed" and "occluded".
Almost at the same time, a raging flame suddenly erupted from under Little John's feet, flowing along the walls, ceiling, and floor, and in an instant, it enveloped the entire room. Several pillars of fire sprang up, like iron bars, trapping Douglas and Francois in a prison made of flames.
The clear water ball that had just condensed in the hands of "Navigator" Francoia was immediately evaporated by the explosive high temperature, causing the strong man who was confidently posing as a protector in the previous second to show a look of shock.
"…Hey." Douglas poked his head out from behind him and looked around the environment that was no different from the Flaming Mountain, his expression distorted. "I paid rent for this house. If it burns down, you have to compensate me!"
Francois's hand trembled, and the remaining clear water created by the spell also spilled onto the ground, and turned into white smoke with a sizzling sound. He couldn't help but look back at Douglas, thinking, is this the time to talk about money?
If you don't think of a solution, you're going to die!
Douglas felt relieved at this time.
Manipulating fire is the hallmark ability of the Hunter Path. It can suppress Sequence 7 Francois, which means that the "Little John" in front of him is not Little John at all, but Winkel Einhorn himself in a certain disguise.
With a thought, Douglas spread spiritual communication through the "Creeping Hunger" on his left hand, driving his soul to start the "journey".
His figure and gloves were transformed into translucent starlight, like a reflection of the spirit world. In a blink of an eye, Douglas disappeared from the flame "prison" and appeared at the other end of the room, keeping a relatively safe distance from "Little John".
Ignoring Francois, whose eyes and mouth were slowly opening wide, Douglas stared at Little John with a wary look, but with a smile on his face: "You made such a big noise, aren't you afraid of attracting the attention of that witch?"
"Little John" glanced at his face and replied coldly: "Even if you turn into ashes here today, no one will find out."
"We are all official Beyonders. It will not do you any good to provoke the Church." Douglas pretended to be relaxed and retorted with a smile, "It's not like you haven't used this method before, right? But it didn't work."
In fact, when Douglas had just used "Creeping Hunger" to "travel" and briefly crossed the spiritual world, he found that the state of the room he was in in the spiritual world was a little strange.
Combined with his intuition when "Little John" closed the door, Douglas guessed that the other party probably used some method to isolate this room from the outside world, so he dared to use fire in a big way. Otherwise, the room would catch fire and attract more attention, which would be very disadvantageous for Winkle who was avoiding being hunted down.
But on the other hand, this also proves that she was not bluffing, but really had the ability to kill two people here.
Francois in the flame prison was still in shock, and he didn't understand what the two were talking about. He could only threaten them, "Yes, I belong to the Holy Wind Cathedral! Don't, don't be so impulsive!"
Little John, who started fighting as soon as he entered the room, didn't even look at him, but just asked Douglas calmly: "Why?"
"Because the witch has an insider in MI9, it is useless to try to use official forces to deal with her."
Douglas quickly gathered his thoughts, stared into Little John's eyes, and said sincerely, "Believe me, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' She has something on me, too. If I don't resolve this issue, I will lose my job, my family, my freedom, and even my life. We have a basis for cooperation.
"Besides, aren't we all, uh, compatriots from Earth? We have a natural alliance, and cooperation can bring us long-term benefits. Only by surviving can we have a future.
"Do you really want to waste your time playing hide-and-seek with the witch? Why did we come to this world? Can we go back, and how can we go back? If we can't go back, how can we survive?
"At least, we shouldn't have to live in hiding and worry about being photographed all the time."
As he spoke, he slowly raised his right hand and extended it to the other party, making an invitation gesture: "Come on, everyone doesn't like freedom. If it were me, I wouldn't refuse."
The latter was silent for a while, then raised his head in Francois' direction: "Where's he?"
"Huh?" Douglas turned around and looked at Brother Storm who was completely out of his mind. "He...he has nothing to do with this. We just met today, no, we just met five minutes ago."
"Oh? Then can you guarantee that he is not the witch's spy?"
"Because I am the witch's spy...I mean!"
Seeing the sword-like flames rising from Little John's hand, Douglas immediately took a step back and clarified loudly: "I was forced! Who would take the initiative to say that they are an undercover agent? Who else can understand the message conveyed in English except us earthlings!"
"Little John" raised his hand to chop, then paused and raised his eyebrows.
"So what? Who can guarantee that you won't be tracked back?"
"I just teleported, my friend. I can go directly from one place to another. Forget about tracking. You also know that witches can become invisible, right? If I want to harm you, I can just hide the witch in the room and wait for you to come. Why are you still talking nonsense? Besides, you also have the means to seal this place off from prying eyes, right?"
Thinking of the fact that Douglas escaped from the fire cage in an instant, "Little John"'s eyes flashed, and he finally retracted the long sword made of fire.
The room fell silent again. But soon after, the boiling flames gradually weakened and died out, leaving only the blackened walls and floor, and the smell of smoke in the room.
Douglas looked around the unrecognizable room and the corners of his mouth twitched.
If they didn't have to cooperate next, he would have wanted to hang this arsonist on the beam and rob him of compensation.
Hold on, hold on... He turned around and was stunned for a moment.
The tall and thin boy had disappeared, and standing in front of him was a tall and dashing red-haired woman who was not much shorter than him.
Winkel Einhorn, who finally revealed his true colors, walked past him and randomly picked a chair to sit down. He crossed his long legs in leather boots and stretched them out. His sitting posture was so arrogant that he took the initiative. He even extended his hand to greet him and Francois, who was still on guard: "Sit down."
For some reason, Douglas's urge to hang this guy up and beat him became even stronger.
He walked over, took Francoia with him and sat down, patted the Storm Brother on the shoulder, and said apologetically: "I'm sorry, there are some things I haven't had time to tell you. Please listen first, and I will explain after it's over."
Francois looked here and there, and finally nodded.
We are natural allies, why don't you take me with you? He pricked up his ears in indignation, ready to hear what the big deal was.
Then I heard that annoying red-haired woman chuckle and say, "I believe it now. The witch would not choose such a slow-witted guy as her eyes and ears."
Francois, who was once an "angry man", jumped up as if he had been poked in the ass with a fire poker as soon as his butt touched the chair, with veins faintly appearing on his forehead: "Who are you talking about——"
Douglas was so scared that he immediately switched to the "Creeping Hunger" herding soul, and used the powerful force of the "zombie" to push Francois back.
Then he turned to Winkle in silence: "I'm not surprised why you have been hunted for so long."
The red-haired hunter spread his hands and shrugged, his expression full of innocence: "Dear, this is not my fault. Who knows why that damn witch kept biting me? I can't think of anything else that is worth being so crazy about except love."
Hiss, European and American population habits... there are no Chinese compatriots. Douglas felt regretful for a moment, then calmly complained: "Speaking of which, the 'Witch' sequence can change a man from a man to a woman. Maybe Cortina, the witch, was a man before."
Winkle and Francois were obviously unaware of this knowledge, and their expressions became somewhat interesting.
Douglas suddenly remembered a shocking line in Russell's diary:
"The witch tastes really good!"
...Well, Senior Huang Tao is really brave. He cleared his throat, dispelled the erotic images in his mind, and said to Winkle: "Do you know the witch's sequence, abilities, extraordinary items and fighting style?"
After all, it was a matter of life and death. Winkel glanced at him and replied, "Sequence Six, generally known as the 'Pleasure Witch', in addition to her beauty and charm, her combat power cannot be ignored. She can control spider silk and frost, can use mirrors to move positions or resist damage, can be invisible for a short time, and has mastered a lot of black magic...
"As for the extraordinary items, I don't know much about them. I can only guess that she has at least one Sequence 5 item with powerful divination abilities."
As he listened, Douglas couldn't help but sigh again that the frontal combat capability of this route was far beyond his expectations. The "Witch" sounded like a support, but in fact it was a critical hit, spellcasting, and high agility... a weird profession.
After briefly reviewing the information, he asked a question: "The witch herself has a good ability of divination. Why do you think she also carries extraordinary items for divination?"
"Because I have a powerful anti-divination item of Sequence 5 that can change one's appearance." Winkle said this with a sigh of anger and amusement. "Can you imagine? After I got this item, I thought I could avoid that guy's perception, but I was still intercepted once, twice, three times..."
She didn't go into detail, but her gnashing tone made Douglas and Francois imagine what a ridiculous and helpless scene it was. She ran away, she chased, like two strong magnets, always having to be on guard against when the other would "whoosh" out.
"So," Francois suddenly said, "you are here now, nothing will happen to you?"
After seeing Winkle's strength, he knew that her opponent must be strong as well. If a battle occurred, he was worried that he would not be able to escape unscathed.
As if he had thought about this question a long time ago, Winkle fiddled with the ends of his dark red hair and said casually, "Her extraordinary items should have some kind of restrictions, or the conditions for use should be harsh. In short, they will not be used frequently. It has not been a week since she last tested me, and now is the 'safe period'."
Brother Storm thought about it again and asked curiously, "Why don't you try to escape? Extraordinary items have a range of perception. Maybe after you leave Backlund, you will have a chance to get rid of him."
Douglas, who was sitting next to him, stretched out his leg uncomfortably, then retracted it, trying to resist the urge to kick his brother.
Although he knew that Winkle had her reasons for not leaving Backlund for so long, he was still worried that Winkle would suddenly go crazy and leave, and he would have to handle this mess by himself. After all, he had a job and family here, so he couldn't just leave whenever he wanted.
"I'm glad to see that your brain is still functioning normally," the red-haired hunter replied. "I don't want to leave, of course I have my reasons. And running away won't solve the problem. Forcing me to leave the chaotic and easy-to-hide environment of the East District may be one of the witch's goals."
As if she remembered something, her expression darkened for a moment, but soon returned to that arrogant, yet slightly provocative smile.
Francois, who was ridiculed for nothing, silently clenched his fists, but had to comfort himself that a man's heart is as broad as the sea, and he cannot be as tolerant as an emotional woman. He should stay calm and not take action...
It's definitely not because I can't beat him, it's definitely not...
Winkle turned to Douglas and motioned for him to tell him what he knew.
"She has at least one helper in the 'Arbitrator' path. I'm not sure of the specific sequence..." The latter hesitated for a moment, stretched out his hand to forcibly wake up Francoia, who had closed his eyes as if cultivating himself, and asked, "The Storm Church has a good relationship with the military, right? You know that the level of a lieutenant roughly corresponds to Sequence 8 or Sequence 7?"
When he and Tyrone first met, Tyrone was wearing an MI9 uniform, and Douglas saw the shoulder straps representing his rank.
"It's most likely Sequence Eight." Francois opened his eyes reluctantly and gave his opinion. "MI9 is different from the military. There are too many noble children sent by their families to be gilded, which will occupy most of the magic potion resources. The internal review is strict, and the promotion of military positions is also linked to the promotion of magic potions. If it is only a lieutenant and he is over 35 years old, he probably has no resource support and will not exceed Sequence Seven."
"To be on the safe side, treat me as a Sequence 7. I am a Sequence 8 who is not good at fighting. With a Sequence 5 Beyonder Item, I should have no problem fighting against a Sequence 7."
Francois: "...Wait."
He looked a little frustrated. "How come everyone of you has a Sequence 5 level Extraordinary Item? Did you inherit a title or pick up a gold nugget? Such an Extraordinary Item starts at 8,000 pounds. Teach me, how did you do it?"
As a captain-level figure of the "Made in Punishment", he had only touched the corresponding level 2 sealed objects a few times during missions!
...What? Sequence 5 Beyonder Items are so expensive?! Douglas quickly calculated the difference between his weekly salary and the price. He felt dizzy and felt that he would never be able to repay the debt he owed to Amon in his two lifetimes.
Winkel spread his hands and said, "I robbed them. The witch has been spreading news about me in the underground market to instigate others to hunt me down. One of them was carrying a lot of extraordinary weapons and items... If you really want them, put yourself on the wanted list, and someone will always give you the right things."
Francois, who couldn't imitate such toughness, looked at Douglas silently.
"It's borrowed, you have to return it, don't read it anymore." The latter's expression became even more hopeless, "Let's get down to business. In fact, I know very little information. With the witch's charm, maybe she will have other helpers..."
"Not necessarily." The red-haired hunter put forward his own point of view, "She has instigated others to attack me many times, but she has never come forward to cooperate with others, and has never used more people to deal with me. The witch seems to have an obsession. She wants to kill me personally."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I have plenty of experience being hunted by her."
"…That's great news. But what if this is just a smokescreen and she's deliberately misleading you, waiting for the last group of people to rush out and beat you up?"
"? What a surprise! That scene was too funny. I don't see why she had to do that."
"She sent people to chase you and beat you up, so why would you not do it yourself?"
Winkle raised his eyebrows and said with some contempt: "Oh, she is injured and doesn't want to take risks."
"Uh, are you sure?"
"I did it."
"...I don't understand." Douglas raised his hand and rubbed his brow, feeling that this matter was beginning to head towards the Humanity Behavior Awards. "You were able to severely injure her, why did you fall to this point?"
"It may sound complicated, but actually," one of the people involved in the confusing behavior winked at him and pointed to his chest, "the original owner of this body and the witch had a fight in the suburbs, and the feud should have ended there.
"Unfortunately, I came back to life for 'Winkle'."Chapter 49 RaidTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 6174 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-12 15:30:01
Tyron led a standard team of five people and hurriedly walked to the intersection of Black Olive Street. The sky was a little too dark. Behind him, a young MI9 agent looked up at the shape of the clouds and whispered, "It looks like a rainstorm."
The people around had been evacuated in advance, and the six of them found Apartment 18B according to the street number. Before stepping onto the narrow stairs, Tyron turned around, looked around at his team members, and said in a deep voice: "I repeat one last time, the target and his accomplices are extremely dangerous, and direct killing is allowed. Everything comes first for the safety of the people and yourself, do you understand?"
The team members responded in unison with a small but clear voice: "Understood!"
Next, two team members carrying phlogiston backpacks and holding steam high-pressure rifles were at the front, with Terran in the middle, and the remaining three team members guarding a sealed object together at the back of the team.
They climbed the stairs in this formation, keeping a certain distance from the very fragile-looking wooden door. After exchanging glances and counting to five seconds, the two team members holding rifles raised their rifle barrels, which were as thick as an adult's wrist, and aimed them at the door socket, and pulled the trigger at the same time in tacit understanding.
"boom!"
The two gunshots overlapped into a deafening sound, and a huge amount of steam gas gushed out from the exhaust port with a grille at the rear end of the rifle, and the hazy white mist instantly flooded the entire corridor.
In order to avoid the hottest moment of the steam, Terran and others stood slightly back and waited until the steam dissipated a little to both sides of the corridor before rushing forward.
But then they were surprised to find that the wooden door was still standing there and looked intact.
-
Inside the room, the three people's eyes were fixed on the door, with different expressions.
"Steam high-pressure rifle." Francois' tone was very firm, but his face was slightly pale. "This kind of controlled weapon... is almost only distributed to the military and intelligence agencies."
Douglas's expression was tense, but he was not too panicked. He just turned to look at Winkle and asked, "Is this a side effect of your seal?"
After all, at this moment, the wooden door that had been bombarded by heavy weapons still remained intact in an inexplicable logic, with no signs of damage at all.
This means that people outside will not be able to enter for a short period of time.
The red-haired hunter let out a long "hmm" and said, "Yes, it can isolate the enclosed space from the outside world, including the corresponding spiritual world. To break this blockade, one can only rely on the power of the mysterious side… It's probably the extent of my full-strength attack."
Brother Storm looked around the room. It was indeed very closed. The only entrance and exit was the door. There was not even a window. He couldn't help but complain: "The safe house you chose doesn't have any safe passage?"
Douglas shook his head. As an "apprentice" who could penetrate walls and unlock locks as easily as eating and drinking, he didn't need a safe passage.
The current problem could no longer be solved by a safe passage. He and Winkle exchanged glances, and both saw some suspicion and vigilance in each other's eyes.
But then, Winkle raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender and said with a smile: "Forget it, it's too late to doubt each other at this time. It's better to think about whether to fight or flee."
Seeing the other party's body language showing signs of avoiding internal conflict, Douglas slowly relaxed the strength of his left hand, which had been secretly clenched behind his back.
Although it was unknown what reasons Terran had for mobilizing the power of MI9 and how he had obtained the address, the current situation did not allow for any further disagreements between the two of them.
He raised his hand and pointed at the wall opposite the door: "There are residential houses on both sides. If you want to break through, you can only break this wall to the next street."
As he spoke, his eyes fell on the third person in the room with an apologetic look: "Francoya, you have nothing to do with this matter. After breaking the blockade, I will use the seal to take you to a safe place immediately. You can take this opportunity to leave."
"Hmm?" Francois, who had been concentrating on listening to the noise outside the door and was always alert, suddenly showed a hint of joy when he heard this.
Indeed, whether it is a witch or a hunter, it has nothing to do with him.
As long as MI9 didn't catch him in the act of appearing in the same place with a foreign spy, they would never be able to find out about the inside of the Church of the Storm, and they would never be able to trace the matter back to Francois.
But when Francois was about to say yes, he hesitated.
"If..." He asked uncertainly, his Adam's apple sliding, "I mean, if you get caught or something, I..."
"Wait a minute," Douglas interrupted him immediately, his expression hard to describe, "At this time, you should give us some blessings instead of curses."
The tall and strong Punisher took a deep breath, suddenly took off his coat, tore it open, and used one of the pieces of cloth to cover the lower half of his face.
Facing the surprised looks of the other two, Francois said firmly: "I'm not leaving. Come on, let's solve this mess together."
"But..."
"That's enough! I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions." He growled in a low voice, somewhat irritated. "Don't you think about it? There are only three of us 'travelers' in the entire Backlund. If something happens to you tonight, how can I find a way back by myself?"
In the previous dozens of minutes of communication, Francois, whose sequence and seal level were inferior to each other, finally let go of his initial arrogant mentality and listened carefully to Winkel and Douglas exchanging information and making plans, and occasionally contributed some new ideas to them.
Since traveling through time, the mentality of thinking that he is the protagonist of the era has gradually been shaken during the communication with other "time travelers" who also came from that extremely developed era.
He originally thought that his time travel was an accident, a coincidence that could not be explained; before he got used to the new name "Francois", he had many sleepless nights thinking about his misfortune.
However, this unwillingness and fear were once buried by the trivialities of life and obscured by the light of the extraordinary world. After reading all the church materials he could get his hands on and finding no clues about "travel", his heart was already cold.
If Francois had not encountered the note written in English, and if he had not met these two unlucky guys who had the same experience as him, he would probably have deceived himself for the rest of his life.
It's so much fun to deceive yourself about how extraordinary your existence is, and to deceive yourself that there's nothing wrong with life here.
But, but——
Like an explanation, or like talking to himself, he let out a long breath and laughed at himself: "The feeling of being abandoned once is enough, I don't want to experience it a second time!"
-
Outside the door, Terran's palm stroked the surface of the wooden door inch by inch. The rough ring-shaped texture scratched his skin, and the "sheriff's" sensing ability continuously fed back information about the surroundings to him.
He was obviously also thinking: "Is there anything unusual on the opposite street?"
"No sir, everything is fine."
After nodding, Terran stepped back and calmly arranged: "The encirclement will be tightened. Notify other teams to strengthen their defenses. We will activate the seal."
"Yes, sir!"
The agents, whose attention was all focused on the mysterious door, did not notice that their leader quietly took something out of his pocket and held it tightly in his hand.
-
"Just go out the front door." Winkle crossed his arms over his chest and insisted on his own idea. "Since it's MI9 that's here, they must have enough manpower to surround us. Only by taking them by surprise can we disrupt their plans."
Her idea obviously exceeded the expectations of her two teammates. Francoia reminded: "But according to common sense, the frontal attack is the strongest..."
The hunter grinned and made a mocking sound: "I am not you, little sailor. I am sure I am stronger than them."
God damn little sailor… Francois' expression froze, but he heard Winkle continue, "Besides, it's obviously impossible for the witch to sneak into the MI9 team. She must be waiting nearby under the cover of an insider, waiting for the moment when I escape the encirclement and relax my mind to make my move."
"And you," Winkle, who had dark red hair and sharp eyes, nodded at Douglas and Francois, "while I'm attracting their attention, move to a higher place to observe and determine the witch's location. Then we can get rid of her together."
"But the fact that the witch could kill you alone is just a guess, right? There is no evidence."
"So what? Anyway, we don't have any more intelligence, and the previous plan is in vain. Let's just listen to Emperor Roselle and 'take the enemy's path and leave them with nowhere to go'!"
...Emperor Roselle is so unrefined that he copied this old joke from the millennium!
Douglas secretly complained while switching the "creeping hunger" to the traveler soul, ready to "travel" at any time.
He placed his right hand on Francois' shoulder, preparing to take him with him on a brief journey through the spirit world to avoid the sharp edge.
Winkle, the attacker, was at the forefront. A layer of red flames rose up and covered her arms. Then, as the hunter twisted his hips and exerted force, the flames condensed into a huge fire fist, which smashed the door panel.
At the moment when the communication between inner and outer spaces was restored and the spiritual world returned to normal, Douglas' spiritual intuition suddenly trembled.
The flying flames, the fragments of the wooden door and Winkel's figure blocking his view too much. Without giving it much thought, he immediately activated his spiritual power, causing the human leather glove on his left hand to suddenly become transparent and sparkle with starlight, starting a "journey", taking his own and Francois' figures with him, fading as if they were about to melt into the air.
But the next second, a long and cold scream pierced into the minds of the three people with a bone-chilling chill, bringing them pain as if someone had inserted an iron rod into their temples. They couldn't help but scream or shout in pain, and all their movements, including spiritual transmission, were interrupted by this scream that directly attacked the spiritual body.
Douglas, whose "journey" had failed and whose spirit was in turmoil, forced himself to open his eyes. He saw the black muzzle of the steam high-pressure rifle outside the door, saw Terran who was the first to rush into the room, and saw the MI9 agent behind him who put a strange-shaped bone flute to his lips, ready to blow it again.
His first thought was to reach out and grab the shoulder of Francois, who was bent over in pain due to the scream and had lost contact with him.
No matter what kind of seal it is, as long as it escapes the attack range, it is equivalent to non-existence!
But then, Douglas felt a chill on his spine, as if some unreal existence with a chilly breath invaded his body and interfered with his movements. His outstretched right hand suddenly swung stiffly and funny, as if he was unsure whether to extend or retract.
During the one-second delay, although Winkel and Francois had initially gotten rid of the influence of the scream, Douglas was still unable to activate the "travel" to escape!
At this moment, Terran, who was stopped by Winkle at the door, did not try to break through immediately. Instead, he took advantage of the chaos and clenched his right hand, crushing a brilliant gem that had been hidden in his palm.
With a slight "click" sound, a blood-red illusory door that was beyond the expectations of both parties suddenly appeared on the ground, emitting a dazzling light.
Both the MI9 agents and Winkle's side instinctively closed their eyes to avoid being affected by the light.
When the agent at the end of the team, holding the bone flute seal, opened his eyes, all that was left for him was an empty room destroyed by the previous attacks.
Both the enemy and his teammates seemed to disappear in that instant!
The agent was stunned for a moment, then rushed into the room and confirmed that there was really no one here except himself. He couldn't help but suspect that he was the one with the problem and was thrown to other places by the sudden appearance of the monster.
He immediately began to sweat and rushed back to the street. Fortunately, other MI9 personnel who were ambushing nearby quickly came over and asked him what happened.
The agent who found himself still in the real world breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly explained the situation.
"Disappeared? Disappeared along with the enemy?"
The adjutant who assisted in the operation was also shocked. MI9 did not use the seal with the "teleportation" effect! This must be a trap set by the enemy! But to find out where they were teleported to is not a task that can be accomplished by just a few teams.
Considering the various possible consequences of this accident, the adjutant felt a slight stomachache...
-
Almost at the same time, in the dense forest near a tributary of the Sotak River in the northwest suburbs of Backlund, the sounds of heavy objects falling to the ground were heard one after another.
Douglas fell face down on the ground with a mouthful of mud. The moment he landed, he used his back and waist to support himself with his elbows, and rolled several times to get away from the spot.
Others may not know, but he has experienced "spiritual travel" using "Creeping Hunger", so he immediately realized that the strangely opened blood-red door played a similar role as "travel", "teleporting" everyone within the range to such a place.
The specific principle is no longer important. What is important is that since Terran used this method, there must be a preset trap here!
As if to prove the wisdom of his action, several sharp ice cones shot towards everyone from the depths of the dense forest with the sound of breaking through the air.
Douglas rolled over and jumped up after scrambling as fast as he could to avoid the ice cone. A large flame rose up on his right hand side again, melting part of the ice cone. The MI9 agents who were dragged along reacted a little slower, and one of them was pierced through the right shoulder, letting out a scream.
Winkle waved dozens of fire crows and leapt into the depths of the dense forest where the ice cones were coming from, shouting, "Hurry up and get rid of these people, come and help me!"
Francois, who had also climbed up from the ground covered in dust, rushed forward two steps without hesitation and knocked down a man holding a steam high-pressure rifle, trying to take his weapon away. The two men immediately wrestled with each other.
"Stop them!"
Having the advantage in numbers, Terran followed the order and led the way in chasing after the red-haired hunter.
Except for the one with a shoulder injury, the remaining two agents immediately turned to Douglas, and then watched the other's figure fade away, as if melting into the layers of shade of the trees.
Tyron keenly felt a gust of wind behind his head. Without even turning his head, he put his hand holding the gun under his armpit and calmly pulled the trigger.
As a result, after two gunshots, the only response was a handful of soft mud hitting the back of his head... Oh no, there was a stone wrapped in it, which made Terran's head sink forward uncontrollably.
This simple and unpretentious attack method really made Tailun dazed for a moment. Throwing stones during a special battle was really an unheard-of fighting method...
Realizing that his team members failed to stop Douglas, he glanced at Winkle, who was much faster than him and whose figure was almost submerged in the depths of the dense forest. He made a quick decision, and with the cover of a tree, he turned his body quickly, raised his gun with both hands, and looked to the side to get his vision ready to deal with the threat from the rear first.
But he was surprised to find that two team members were running towards him, and behind them, Douglas, as if covered by a shadow, raised his revolver silently.
Seeing that, it was too late to warn them. The third syllable of "Watch out behind you" was interrupted by gunshots before it was uttered. The two agents who were running immediately stumbled and fell to the ground, with stunned expressions on their faces.
Several bullets pierced their legs and lower abdomen, and blood gushed out, soaking the soil.
"Very good, just stand there and don't move." Douglas quickly stepped forward and kicked away the guns they struggled to take out, while carefully pointing the gun at the two prisoners.
On the other side, Francois, who had knocked his opponent unconscious with his fist as big as a casserole, stood up unsteadily, spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, grabbed the steam high-pressure rifle and aimed at Tyron with a fierce look.
Being pinned down by two men, Tyron still held the gun in both hands. He glanced at the faces of several team members, as if hesitating.
Seeing him like this, an agent immediately shouted: "Sir, go! Leave us alone!"
Oh my god, the people in MI9 are of such high quality... Douglas, who was pretending to be a fierce and ferocious man, couldn't help but sweat in his heart.
He was not prepared to sacrifice innocent people who were unaware of the situation. The previous shooting was only to restrict their movement. He hoped that this posture could threaten Terran and make him explain what arrangements the witch Cortina had made here.
"Listen!" Douglas pretended to point the gun at the agent's head and shouted, "Tyron, it's not too late to turn back now! This situation is no longer good for you. You can't gamble your future and the lives of your colleagues on this kind of thing!"
The agent who was under gunpoint listened and couldn't help but exchange glances with his buddies beside him. He always felt that there was something wrong with the lines.
But before he could think further, he heard his superior call his name: "Colin."
The agent named Colin looked at Tyron and listened to him calmly say, "You have been working under me for six years. You are always the bravest and the one who rushes to the front. Everyone feels relieved when they go on missions with you."
Ignoring the surprised or confused expressions of others, Tyrone named another person: "Wilson, although you often violate office rules, secretly smoke, and take away office equipment, as long as things are handed over to you, nothing will go wrong..."
Just like that, one sentence at a time, he gave a brief evaluation of all the agents present, even the one who was unconscious and unable to hear.
Francois took the time to give Douglas a questioning look, as if asking, "Should we stop him?"
The latter did not speak, but had a vague feeling of uneasiness. At first, in the deep forest where Winkle had chased them, there were occasional flashes of fire and dull roars. Now, whether it was because of the nightfall or because they had gone far away after fighting, the naked eye could no longer detect any signs of fighting.
Maybe I should really kill someone and let him know...
Such a thought flashed through his mind, but was immediately firmly rejected. Douglas finally raised his hand, aimed at the tree trunk next to Tyron and fired a shot as a deterrent. However, in the flying sawdust and diffuse gunpowder smoke, he noticed a strange smile on the other party's face, and noticed that the other party's finger on the trigger was slowly pressing down.
Gunshot!
Almost instinctively, Douglas, who was facing Terran, immediately curled up and flew away from the hostages. At the same time, he activated his spiritual power and used the "Creeping Hunger"'s ability to "lurk into the shadows" to quickly hide himself in the shadows of nearby trees.
As early as when he threw out the ball of mud wrapped in stones, he took the opportunity to "bribe-weaken" Tyrone, which would cause the opponent's attack power against him to decrease. Even if he was hit by one or two bullets, as long as it was not a fatal position, he was sure to maintain his mobility.
Bang, bang, bang! After firing five shots in a row with almost no interval, Tyrone turned and ran deep into the forest. Douglas kept his sights on Tyrone. When he saw that he was running away, he jumped out of the shadows and immediately prepared to switch to "travel" to chase him. At the same time, he turned his head to check if Francois was injured.
However, after turning his head, his movements suddenly stopped, and he could hardly believe his eyes.
The two MI9 agents who had served as hostages now had a bloody hole on their foreheads from a bullet, through which one could still see the gleaming metallic sheen of the bullet casing.
Their eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead, looking in the direction their superior had left. There seemed to be a hint of confusion and astonishment in their eternally frozen expressions, and their lips, which had not yet closed, seemed to be about to utter a question that could never be asked again and would never have an answer.
Douglas's hands trembled, and the bullets that were supposed to be loaded into the magazine fell to the ground. Above their heads, heavy clouds and rain accumulated, squeezing out the last ray of sunset. Accompanied by bursts of muffled thunder rolling across the sky, the long-brewing rainstorm finally kicked off.