Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me

The dance music in the golden hall continued, and the pink box seemed to be empty at this time, with only a few female workers tidying up the room, trying to clean up the **** produced by ladies and girls during the day before the evening peak.

Tick, tick.

In the closed utility room, bursts of pale white mist scattered wantonly, and a girl in white gauze slowly walked out of it with a gloomy expression.

On his fair right arm, wisps of faint black air were entwined, and a **** scarlet sticky piece of flesh was clenched fiercely in the palm of his hand, and slender fingers pinched bloodshots.

"Insects that fell from the mother tree!" The ethereal and tactful voice became low, and he stared fiercely at the pieces of meat that were constantly beating in his palms, trying to break free at any time, the tighter he squeezed.

Finally, his accumulated anger reached its peak.

boom!

The chunks of meat that smelled of sulphur burst and exploded, and before the sticky residue fell to the ground, it festered into a pool of sludge under the extreme "distortion" and "corruption".

"Unfortunately, this body has reached its limit, otherwise I can try to devour this part of the power." As an incarnation of the same person of the old days, Xia Lu Tamara Treville is not worried that she will be desired because of this The brainless thing of the mother tree is polluted in reverse.

After adjusting his state, He walked out of the closed utility room with a natural look. His blue-purple eyes ignored the puzzled cleaning lady at the door, his gaze penetrated the wall, and after a while of searching, he locked in tonight's dinner.

Xia Lu, who had a gripping and happy expression, slowly licked her lips, and the steps she took were lighter.

It seems that even He himself did not find out that he also used the inefficient method of devouring flesh and blood to maintain the stability of the body. Why not choose the cleaning lady who is at hand, and no one cares when she dies? Why not abandon this identity and go to the chaotic Eastside?

The girl with a delicate face and a marked figure opened the door, and the side belonging to the "witch" occupied the high ground of the mind.

Now He has become her again.

............

The old-style hired carriages were mixed in the crowded crowd, and the coachman sitting in front was relaxed and did not look angry at the road congestion.

The gentleman at the back has already said in advance that this trip will be charged according to the time, and he will be stuck for a while when he is happy.

The curtains in the car were pulled tightly, and Mike, who had rough skin, was leaning against the wooden wall at the back of the car, his face still pale.

He has been a reporter for so many years, and this is the first time he encounters someone shooting himself. If Sherlock hadn't reacted faster just now, he would have returned to the kingdom of God!

Fortunately, I found an experienced detective as a bodyguard in advance... Klein, who was sitting beside him with lingering delusions, slowly swallowed.

"Sherlock, who do you think attacked me just now?" After a long silence, Mike cautiously glanced at the partition between him and the driver, then lowered his voice and asked carefully.

With his eyes closed, Klein felt the direction of the "spiritual body lines" around him. Klein, whose brain was sore and exhausted, closed the "substitute", kneading his forehead, and replied:

"At least not the supporters behind the Golden Rose."

Just now, when he stopped the shooting, picked up Mike and fled to the crossroads, he had not encountered other attacks, and he had vaguely heard the voice of Jin Rose yelling at the bodyguard.

They also seem to be surprised that someone in front of their house dares to draw a gun in the street.

The spirit was still tense, and Mike, whose face was pale, wiped away the sweat that did not exist, nodded slightly, and agreed with this statement.

"I think so too. If they were afraid of revealing what happened behind Golden Rose, Lopez wouldn't have to tell me so much. Even if they dragged me in the hall, no one would care."

An experienced reporter after all, after the initial panic, Mike began to think about this question, but was unable to come up with an answer.

This is not necessarily, what if they just want to create such an illusion and deceive people who are inclined to Kapin?

Having seen many modern works of literature and art, he is immune to many strange reasons. Klein, who has a high degree of acceptance, slandered in his heart, but he did not directly express his conjecture. He just gave his employer a meaningful glance.

As a "clown" who has digested the potion, Klein can be sure that even if the shot really hits Mike, it won't be enough to kill him.

Klein, who was sitting on the side, adjusted his body, his left leg was placed on his right, and a coin spun down from the air, facing up in the dark palm wrapped in gloves.

Sure enough, if hit, Mike still won't be mortally wounded.

Klein, who confirmed his guess through divination, coughed lightly. Seeing that his employer's attention was attracted, he said softly:

"Maybe, the other party didn't want to kill you, but just wanted to make others look more real?"

As he said that, he put away the coin in his palm, and his icy blue eyes looked at Mike sincerely.

After watching Klein turn on his spiritual vision, his eyes gradually became deep, and Mike, who was still a little flustered, slowly calmed down, and began to think along the lines of thinking proposed by Klein.

"You mean they want to be thought that I was attacked by Cappin's men to keep my mouth shut from me revealing the human trafficking thing behind his back?"

Looking back on his sobriety at the time, Mike felt more and more that his guesses were very close to the truth.

"This is just a possibility. If the truth is true, it can only be said that it is very crude and has little effect." Klein nodded slightly, without expressing absolute approval, and still tried to guide Mike's thinking.

His face had returned to normal, and Mike, who no longer appeared to be trembling, sighed unhurriedly, and his tone basically returned to normal.

"No, Sherlock, you have been living in a holy place of knowledge like Renburg before, and you may not know much about the practices of these gangsters and high-level officials."

Mike felt more and more that his guess was close to the truth, and his tone gradually became more certain.

"If they really hit the bullet, if I really tried to expose Kapin, and even achieved some results, no one would make an issue with this attack, maybe they would still use it as a card It's hard evidence that Ping wants to kill people, trust me, those big shots will make other newspapers and police stations 'believe'."

"Then what are you going to do in the future?" Seeing that his hint had an effect, Klein asked in a calm tone.

After all, he is not a professional, nor is he an Extraordinary of the "spectator" pathway, and he is unable to make the other party's way of thinking completely follow his own.

Heh, if I have the ability to "nightmare", I might be able to try the dream in a dream, the degree of certainty of the memory of the chaotic target in the subconscious, blurring his cognition... Klein rubbed the cane that he had been holding in his left hand. , the body relaxed, listening to Mike's long-deliberate answer.

"I, I don't want to report this **** directly."

He caught a glimpse of Klein's inquiring gaze, and couldn't help but dodge his eyes.

"Sherlock, you're still single, right? You may not understand it well. I have my own family, and my home is in Backlund. If I really offend such a bottomless gang, my family will suffer. "

As he spoke, his speech speed gradually increased, as if to hide something, he quickly said:

"Of course, I will continue to investigate the various problems faced by the grassroots, organize it into a report, and submit it to a caring big man, and I will also talk about issues such as human trafficking. This is the best I can do so far. Good help."

He was still chattering, gradually ignoring his raised pitch, no longer caring whether the driver could hear him or not, and just lowered his head and explained alone.

Klein, who was sitting beside him, slowly closed his eyes, the cane in his palm was placed horizontally, and his right hand unconsciously pressed the mechanism that came out of the cane, silent.

............

On the first floor of the apartment near the Backlund Bridge, the leisurely Aegron held the bronzing novel with his palm in his hand, and sat behind the front desk, relaxing his body.

Dangdang.

He slowly pulled his eyes out of the lines of the book and raised his head in confusion.

In the not-so-bright apartment hall, a man of medium stature was tapping his knuckles on the desk at the front desk.

He stared at a relatively sparse blond hair, his scalp could be vaguely seen from the twirls of his hair, his light blue eyes were sharp, his square face and his serious expression all the time gave him an old-fashioned feeling.

Aigron looked at his black-tone formal suit, and inadvertently glanced from the inside of the coat, over the slightly exposed square in the pocket of the suit ~www.wuxiamtl.com~ put down the novel in his palm.

"If you come earlier, all the tenants here will come back."

The serious and old-fashioned middle-aged man was expressionless, took out a key from the side pocket of his coat, and pushed it onto the table at the front desk.

"I need to keep this house safe."

"Actually, you don't have to be so cautious. His Royal Highness will definitely not live in such a place by himself." Aigron gave him a strange look, and his thick palm picked up the brass-colored key reflecting the dim light on the table and put it in. in the drawer.

The straight, old-fashioned man who was standing looked at his movements and replied solemnly:

"Since it is the task of His Royal Highness, I will treat it with the highest standards."

They are all soldiers who have been favored by Prince Edsack, but now, one has become the periphery of MI9, and the other is the leader of the group.

It was the newly promoted "Knight of Retribution" who handled the follow-up affairs of Rosago before.

Due to physical reasons, Aigron, who was semi-retired, had no intention of arguing with him, nor did he reveal the idea that the occupant of the house was Sherlock Moriarty.

Although he can trust his former comrades in arms, he never trusts the so-called integrity of an intelligence agency like MI9.

At least for the sake of His Royal Highness, they wouldn't take the initiative to find out who would live in that house.

"Is there any action planned on it recently?" Although he was old, Aigron, who still had a bit of youthful air, touched his unshaved beard, "absenteeely".

The cold-looking man's body suddenly became tense like a conditioned reflex, and after he deliberately controlled it to relax, he answered vaguely with a stern look:

"Always be prepared to encircle and suppress."

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