Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me

Brass bullets and spiritual tarot cards entangled with each other and shot towards Meursault, who was rushing towards him.

In the face of this situation, he did not panic, his deep-set eyes swept away indifferently, the cruel smile on the corner of his mouth became more and more obvious, his left hand acted spiritually, and when he turned his wrist, the faint blue dagger was directly loaded with bullets in the air. , along with the sound of steel crashing, the broken blades and bullets with altered ballistics sparked in the air.

Meursault, who had defused Klein's attack, stomped heavily on the ground and kicked his legs alternately, completely giving Klein no chance to organize an attack again.

Storm-like punches fell crazily on Klein's arms folded in front of his chest and forehead, forcing him to step back.

It can't be like this anymore, just relying on my strength, I will be beaten to death here sooner or later... Klein's arms are swollen and painful, the suffocation in his chest is difficult to exhale, and his breath is gradually messy.

All of a sudden, he kept staring at the fast glances around him, a flash of light in his mind, his crossed arms suddenly let go, and he punched the opponent hard.

boom!

Looking at the violent fist wind, Klein didn't completely lower his arms after all. He barely held it, and was directly thrown out. With a bang, he knocked over the few chairs in the room, and hit the unstable wooden bed with a harsh sound. Squeak, and the dust from the roof trembled and fell.

This is not an order of magnitude at all. I was almost beaten to death by this punch, and I almost didn't have to calculate... The full punch of Meursault, the "hunter" just now, really made Klein's eyes bloodshot and his vision blurred. , the entire horizon was covered with a faint dark red.

In his mind, the spiritual warning was crazy, and Meursault, who was in sight, had a fierce look in his eyes. He took a big step and slipped in the muffled sound of ventilation, and his hard knees slammed out, intending to directly smash the gram from the bottom up. Ryan's jaw!

Klein watched this scene calmly, and he had already squeezed three trait tarot cards in his hands that were unable to fall.

He deliberately attacked the opponent's attack just now, just want to follow the powerful impulse to open the distance, and take out his unobtrusive and lethal weapon.

This is that although Klein's limbs are sore, he is almost stretched out on the edge of the plank bed, but his left hand is still empty on the wooden handle of the revolver, and the tarot card in his right hand is ready to go.

Seeing Meursault attacking fiercely, his knees almost touching his face, Klein's wrist suddenly trembled.

Under the guidance of the hazy picture that appeared in his mind, he made a decision in an instant.

Sure enough, in reality, Meursault's body, whose face was painful and fierce, suddenly slackened, and a terrifying sound came from his throat, and he fell silently back.

Meursault clutched the wound with a tarot card inserted in his neck in a panic, and waving it wildly, opened the sharp weapon that had pierced the trachea, and thick blood streamed from the gap in the palm of the hand. Spitting out, he could only look at his futility feebly, feeling the passing of life, and the consciousness in his brain gradually emptied.

Am I going to die?

No, I managed to be called an Extraordinary. Compared with those nobles who only hold champagne and talk nonsense, I am a superior person... Meursault's deep-set eyes condensed again, his eyes rounded with anger He stared at Klein who was standing in front of his body, like a ghost about to take revenge.

boom!

The gunshots of the idiosyncratic large-caliber revolver once again cut through the silence of the night, accompanied by a few screams of ladies, and the "executioner" of the Zigman Party - Meursault, died on the filthy floor of the East End inn. , die without resting eyes.

Klein, who was unable to lift his left hand, couldn't lift it again after forcibly fired a shot, his palm trembled, and the heavy revolver fell heavily to the ground, announcing the end of the fight tonight.

Klein took a long breath and slumped in the small room. His limbs were sore, every joint was protesting with pain, and he was almost unable to move.

In a trance, he saw Meursault's corpse lying flat on the floor facing his feet, gradually emitting a little crimson light, lingering around the corpse's chest.

It seems that the continuous burst of gunshots and fighting just now startled the surrounding residents. In addition, the owner of the hotel has also been sold by the Zigman Party, and no one came to check it for a while.

Fortunately, the security in the Eastern District is not good, otherwise I must have been arrested by the police, and then I was put on the name of homicide and put in jail. At that time, I would really have no chance for revenge, and I could only rely on the "secret". Beloved, help me out of trouble...

"But where is Ian?" Klein, whose body was soft and his eyes were bloodshot, turned to the door with difficulty, and found that there was no trace of anything other than the corpse living next door. "That's right, his life experience has probably driven him. Actively stay away from here..."

As he spoke, Klein's eyelids couldn't stop falling, his consciousness was blurred, and the exhaustion after a high-intensity battle seemed to drag him into the abyss of coma at any time.

"Mr. Moriarty! Mr. Moriarty!" Suddenly, a still immature voice recalled Klein's spirit. The panic-stricken Ian was shaking his body gently, his mouth opened and closed.

He turned his head blankly, feeling the power of the backtracking in his body, his spiritual vision turned on silently, and after confirming that there were no more likely ambush attackers around, he breathed a sigh of relief and said weakly:

"I fell asleep just now?"

"No, I saw what you were whispering when I came, but I didn't hear it clearly." Seeing his new employer regain consciousness, Ian immediately helped Klein to sit up, looked around for a week, and quickly left. , dragged in a man in a worker's uniform who was standing in the thick blood plasma, who was blocking the door, and carefully closed the almost broken wooden door with a broken latch.

After doing all this, he hurried back and helped Klein, who had regained most of his strength, stand up.

"Ian, first..." Klein, who was about to explain to his assistant to deal with the scene, suddenly froze, his left hand touched his face subconsciously, and the tip of his finger touched a coldness that shouldn't be here .

When did I put on that human skin mask?

Suddenly, a chill that symbolized unknown danger hit his back, and cold sweat instantly wet his back.

Ian, who turned around when he heard his call, was startled, and saw Sherlock Moriarty's face was extremely abnormal, with dull ice-blue eyes and pupils trembling slightly.

"Mr. Moriarty?" Ian called tentatively.

But Klein was cautiously looking around, as if he hadn't heard him, and nodded dully after two seconds, like a puppet.

Klein, who didn't notice anything abnormal, finally noticed Ian, who was still standing in front of him with a confused look on his face, coughed a few times, and returned to his usual mature and kind face. Some miserable sneers said:

"I seem to have lost my head just now, and I'm a little confused."

As he said that, he took the initiative to move to Meursault's face, which was facing upwards, with a mixture of unwillingness and resentment. After there was no contamination, it was carefully pinched with fingers.

He felt the scorching heat emanating from the surface of the characteristic, and carefully put it into his side pocket.

"Mr. Moriarty, what is that?" Ian, who had discovered the "Hunter" feature when he entered the door just now, who mistook it for a gem, asked carefully.

He has been mixed in the East District all the year round, and he knows very well what he should move and what he should not move. Although Ian just failed to recognize the essence of the characteristics and only regarded it as some kind of special gem, he still did not have any crooked thoughts, but decided to Wake up your employer for the first time.

He is very clear that in the Eastern District, some things must not only be obtained by luck, but also must have corresponding strength, and have life to get it!

After a simple treatment of the characteristics, Klein, who probably blocked the escape of spirituality, heard his question, considered for a few seconds, and decided to say truthfully:

"This is what Beyonders will leave behind after they die, but some are like this, which can be directly used as potion materials, allowing people to obtain 'gems' with extraordinary abilities, while others will be combined with items to form some exuding A powerful weapon of negative influence."

"This kind of thing has all the shapes, it may be a doll, a bunch of hair, a mirror, but they are all objects with extraordinary power, which can cause death at any time."

Considering that he may face similar dangers in the future, and at the same time, Ian, who is his assistant, cannot be kept out of the world of Beyonders forever~www.wuxiamtl.com~ Now teach him some common sense and avoid danger. is the best way to handle it.

Just as Klein was groping for other items on Meursault, ready to continue explaining some common sense to Ian, a light crimson and thin gray-white mist occupied his eyes.

"That human-skin mask is still in the bathroom. The one on your face is a projection that I urgently summoned from history. The maintenance time is almost up..."

The ethereal and gentle voice of "mystery" echoed in his ears, reminding him not to reveal his secrets.

Klein's movements were imperceptibly stagnant for half a second, and then quickly returned to normal. Slowly supporting his knees, he stood up and said:

"Ian, find out if there is anything of value in them, and I'll wash my face."

"No problem." Ian, who even made a living from this, didn't think about it, and quickly responded to the task. Familiarly opened the coat on the corpse and searched for money and weapons that might be hidden everywhere.

Klein took a deep look and paced into the bathroom that was not covered by a wooden door. Sure enough, he saw the magical item he used for disguise under the incomplete greasy mirror.

He recalled the "secret" entrustment just now, picked up the human skin mask, and put it directly on his head.

Unsurprisingly, the cold touch irritated Klein's skin. His face did not appear to be too bloated with two masks on, but the moment when the real mask was attached to his face, it was recruited from history. The projection of , had already dissipated, and an illusory ripple appeared on Sherlock Moriarty's face in the greasy mirror.

In the rare tranquility, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and made a weird face, half laughing and half crying like a real clown.

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