To Four Thousand Years Later

When the first ray of sunlight shone through the cracks in the tomato and shone on Francis' face in the morning, he opened his eyes silently.

To be honest, Francis didn't think he had a good night's sleep. He didn't sleep much the night before and just slept for a few hours when he was ambushed by Pazzi's assassins at the foot of the slope. Thanks to them, he and his nephew Leonardo had to walk to Florence with no time to sleep in the second half of the night. This is not the same as simply staying up late on duty. Originally, after Francis planned to throw away his things, he would take Leonardo to Wild Rose to drink a bowl of warm broth to relieve the chill, and then find a hotel to catch up on sleep. Just like what the guard said... at five or six o'clock in the morning, you can't expect too much if you want to drink something warm.

In the end, everything was ruined by those bastards. He didn't drink the hot soup, and he didn't sleep. He also personally executed the deputy he had brought up before, and crossed half of the city to steal, kill, and set fire to other people's homes. And now being chased and killed, but can only shrink in the wooden barrel, unable to move at all, not even a bedding.

What is this?

"Okay bastards. We've got another bill.

Francis grunted, trying to crawl out of the tomato bucket.

He felt his body was stiff and cold, his joints creaked when he moved, his hair, scalp and ear tips were cold, and his head was heavy and painful—but it was better than he imagined.

Originally, Francis thought that if he huddled in this kind of place for the night, at least a cold would be unavoidable. But now it seems that Yu is doing well... Except for being a little tired, hungry, thirsty, and not getting enough sleep, he doesn't feel the weakness of being sick.

It is easy to get into this bucket, but difficult to climb out. Francis spent a long time trying, but still knocked the bucket down. He shook his head, crawled out from inside, picked up a tomato that had fallen on the ground as if nothing had happened, wiped it on his sleeve and gnawed a bite.

"It tastes good, but a little sour.

Francis sat on the roof of someone else's house, took out his bottle of limoncello from his pocket, ate someone else's tomato with this liqueur, and commented: "But at least it quenches my thirst.

He wiped his face after eating and drinking. After urinating on other people's roofs, he clapped his hands and prepared to continue his escape career.

Although Francis has not figured it out yet. How exactly did Francesco's resurrection operation...but he was roughly sure. As long as I can escape a little farther. There will be nothing because he heard clearly last night that Francesco "is looking for" a man who is about 1.78 meters and weighs about 86 kilograms.

But Francis was shorter and lighter than that. the most important is. Francesco knew himself—but he didn't directly ask his men to arrest Francis, which showed that his action of holding him with a pillow yesterday was correct and effective. Francis speculated. He may have judged his own size through his strength, weight, and the length of his calves... Francis admired this keen observation. Because before, he even knew how Francesco was wrong.

Because he had a rifle, a pistol, a wine bottle, a long bishou and three magazines hidden in him. The weight is naturally heavier than the real weight. Francis's legs are slightly longer than ordinary people's. If Francesco judged his height by the length of his calves or the span between his knees, he would definitely guess that he was a little taller. And Francis is still wearing high-soled riding boots now. When he changes into flat-soled cloth shoes, he can go down even shorter. In any case, not the man Francesco was talking about. No matter how good the relationship between Francesco and the Police Chief of Florence is, it is impossible for him to order the police to go door to door and arrest everyone who was not at home last night. So as long as Francis can go back as soon as possible, there won't be much of a problem.

That's how it should have been.

But when Francis was nimbly and silently jumping on the roof, he suddenly felt a warning, and immediately stopped his movements.

He knelt down and looked around, but saw nothing. Not a single one even looked up to see themselves.

The scattered people on the street in the early morning were moving slowly, but Francis was motionless. It was as if time stood still and slowed down here... His ears gradually heard rustling noises, his vision became dim, and the scene became dimmer. Only those passers-by had a faint gleam on their bodies. And beside Francis, on the originally empty roof, there appeared a pale blue figure, approaching him tiptoely.

Francis was slightly taken aback. Next, the field of vision in front of him instantly collapsed and returned to its original state.

The phantom-like turquoise figure disappeared again. Francis paused for a moment, trying to re-enter the previous state and then darkened. The man Francis saw from the corner of his eye also paused suddenly.

The moment the figure hesitated for a moment, and then stepped forward again, Francis pulled out the pistol hidden under his arm with his right hand in his arms, opened the safety, broke off the hammer, and pulled the trigger, aiming at the figure's gun. A shot in the chest!

Francis was known as a quick shooter before he joined the gang. From the time he draws the pistol to the time he pulls the trigger, the whole process takes less than a second. The invisible person was instantly hit in the chest by a bullet, and immediately appeared. The scene was very unusual—Fomincis saw a bright figure begin to “fade” visible to the naked eye, and the transparent coat all over his body was torn apart from the point of impact, revealing the real person underneath. A girl with pupils and small freckles, holding a short knife in her right hand and a rope in her left hand, looked at Francis in doubt.

Francis always felt as if he had seen her somewhere, but he couldn't remember it for a while.

She blurted out subconsciously, then stopped her voice immediately, and quickly turned over and got up. It was as if what hit her before was not a bullet, but a small stone. The townspeople were startled when they heard the gunshots. The shouters fled in all directions. The police would arrive here soon, but Francis didn't dare to run away at all. Because the freckled girl turned over, her body was like the distorted air on the fire, and began to distort and become transparent again at a speed visible to the naked eye. Before she could escape into the shadows again, Francis fired again without hesitation. He was already deeply aware of this person's hostility—she really wanted to kill herself. Well, since the police will arrive in a while anyway, there is not much difference between shooting and shooting twice.

But after this shot, the result was much better than before.

There was only a scream, and the girl stumbled out of the distorted air clutching her abdomen. Her dim yellow pupils were full of madness, and because of the pain and anger, her originally pretty face became violent.

She yelled, "Damn Patsy bastard! Lied to me!"