"We don't need to make such a fuss." He commented, "The rebels are just a joke. We all know this. The defenders must be avenged, but we should first hold a funeral for the deceased and properly dispose of his body."
Agatha was standing in the tower with a red wall, and outside the window were the roofs of blue houses. He completely missed the point. "Members of the Tower have their own funerals. Sir, this city is about to play a dirge for the dead. Our ambassador is here to liberate the city he protects." She looked at the face of the Director of Public Security. It becomes increasingly difficult to look at. "Don't you know yet? It would be easy for the White Envoy to deal with the rebels, but he won't do it. They are not his real enemies."
Maybe he understood. "Are these your true words? Did the White Envoy say this?" Derrida asked.
"That's my more euphemistic statement." Bai Zhizhi said nothing, but Agatha knew his purpose. "As a police officer, I just hope that the order of San Carlos will not be destroyed. No one knows the importance of truth and rules better than me." I also know the cost, Lord Commander.
Derrida Serif's collar was strained and his expression was full of distrust. "Then what exactly is our enemy?"
"The commander discovered that the assassin is a demon." Agatha pointed out. She dared not say more.
"So the fog outside is all brimstone from hell?"
"You know what I'm talking about." The detective lady replied calmly. "Not to mention black magic, the nameless ones will definitely be more rampant in places like San Carlos. The patrol can ensure that there are things hanging on the crosses inside the red walls every day, and the streets in the civilian areas are abandoned and become demons. Breeding soil. How long has it been since your demon hunters were dispatched?"
Her random excuse left Derrida dubious. But anyway, his bad expression softened slightly. "Those slaves and low-class people are inherently dirty. The Public Security Bureau has limited manpower, and we have to maintain trade and supervise the black market. This is not Blumnot, and its governance methods are not applicable."
"Then it seems that your method is not very good. A demon assassin can sneak into the red wall and even let two distinguished gentlemen facilitate him to assassinate the messenger sent by the Sky Tower headquarters. Do you think the responsibility should be placed on Whose head is it?"
"I cannot deny that there are indeed many loopholes in our governance, but the biggest loophole is manpower." Derrida said plausibly, "Besides, San Carlos was founded by Motog survivors and locals, so it will inevitably follow our shared laws. .The local people will only accept such rule."
Maybe the chief of security really didn't understand what she meant, and Agatha didn't want to say more to him. The news about the long night light really made the director furious, but he only dared to show his temper in front of Agatha. Bai Zhishi's order has been issued. Even if he has any objections, he must first act according to the order. She began to understand why the White Envoy had to come in person. Your Excellency Dean has the same status as the Director-General of the Affairs Department, and his rigidity may not necessarily make the nobles of San Carlos as desperate as the White Envoy's coldness.
Our real enemy. Agatha looked at the back of the Director. Our enemy is not the Unknowns or the Rebels... we are the enemy. It is the red wall of San Carlos that the White Emissaries want to smash, your laws and your very existence. The rebels who murdered the garrison were not alone. He wants to reestablish order in the Mist City once and for all. San Carlos is a vassal country close to Brumnot, and the White Envoy has never been there... I am afraid that the local nobles have never known the leader of the Sky Tower. They would pay a terrible price for their indolence, and Agatha wanted nothing to do with these guys who didn't even know they had a noose around their necks.
The rain washing against the stone walls seemed to be the only sound between heaven and earth. Blood-red water droplets wet the wall. It's time for me to rest. The detective lady sat down on the plush sofa and stretched out, but then she let out a cry of pain as the movement pulled the wound. "My dear Miss Minerva!" she murmured to herself, "you have no idea how much I miss you."
…
"What's the patrol doing with a long night light? Aren't the streets bright enough?"
"It's the messenger's order. He wants to light the lamp outside the wall."
This conversation happened countless times, and Talmon's patience had long since worn out. As he unlocked the warehouse door, he pretended not to hear the patrol knight's questioning and complaints. Forget it, it’s not me who wants to explore the civilian areas anyway. They would quiet down after a while, go back to their rooms and put on their armor, and then the next batch of people would repeat their boring nonsense.
The shaft made a high-pitched whine, and no matter how many times he opened the door, the sound never diminished. Half of the neat cargo box was illuminated by the light outside the door. Talmon used a crowbar to open it, causing sawdust to fly. This shipment was supposed to deliver Sir Busby's order, he thought. Later the Controller took possession of them again. Now no one's order can be used. Chloe's Excellency wants to requisition them and send them outside the red wall.
He didn't feel any difference. Whether they are messengers or noble lords, they all have weird ideas. Access to civilian areas had been closed the previous day, people were clamoring about insurgents and assassins, and the curfew had been advanced by half an hour. As a result, what should we do? In Talmon's opinion, if one day the Sheriff really decides to clean up the streets, they'd better go to the refugee shack streets in the outermost part of the civilian area. As long as each family captures and kills one person, the number of demons in San Carlos will be reduced by half.
What happened half an hour ago - the eaves of the warehouse were very long. He stood under the dry vault and witnessed the team of demon hunters galloping towards the city gate in the rain. People along the road looked around one after another, whispering to each other as if ants who had found grains of rice were touching each other's tentacles. When the red-walled door opened, mist poured in, and people scrambled to close the windows, squeezing their faces against the water-stained glass and trying to stare out. They never looked at me like that. What's so interesting about a knight guarding an equipment warehouse? He didn't carry the warehouse on his back.
Talmon slammed the screaming iron door shut, took out the chain and stringed the handles together. He didn't lock it because the items hadn't been distributed yet. As soon as he went to the lounge to take a drink of water, the next wave of disgruntled patrol knights came to pick up their new equipment. The messenger's order only contained a few words, but I had to say one sentence of explanation dozens of times. When will these big shots get out?
There is not a drop of water in the cup. Talmon had no choice but to turn to the kettle. He filled himself with boiling water and poured the overflow on the back of his hands. The sting almost made him throw the cup. Nameless anger was building in his heart. Talmon cursed and turned around to look for the pool, only to see a dripping figure pulling out the chains from the warehouse.
"Leave me alone." He shouted, picking up the spear with his unburned hand, and angrily smashed open the wooden door of the lounge. "Stop! Which team are you new to? Don't move if you don't understand the rules-" The second half of Talmon's words was stuck in his throat.
The man in front of the warehouse turned around, revealing a skull-like face. His eyes were so sunken that he couldn't see clearly, his lips were just a piece of skin, and his high cheekbones and nose bridge seemed to pierce the skin.
There is no way this hungry ghost could be a patrol cavalry. "Who are you?" Talmon asked warily.
The figure suddenly fell forward.
A cold touch covered the burning burn, and he felt his whole body cooling down. The rain hadn't stopped yet, and this thought crossed my mind. He heard the harsh grinding of the shafts and the murmur of people talking, but could see nothing. Talmon found that the darkness in front of him was a ball of dry hair. what happened? He felt his grip loosen and the spear fall to the ground.
The thin figure retreated into the rain curtain under the steps, but it was much clearer than before. In his hands were a chain, a crowbar, and a butcher's machete. Muscles are gradually bulging out from under the skin until he is restored to an adult male with a normal physique.
He didn't fall down, but rushed to me. Talmon realized. But he couldn't figure out how this guy got here. He couldn't think anymore. A huge amount of blood and broken bones flowed out from the opening torn by the sharp instrument, and the internal organs and skin membranes fell down. Did anyone see it? Why haven't the patrol knights arrived yet?
"Devil." He finally heard the warning echo in his throat, and the gurgling sound of water being pushed away by heavy objects.
…
Agatha in the red-walled tower was awakened by the noise, and news of fires and assassins kept reaching her ears. She jumped out of bed and leaned against the window to see the torrential rain pouring on the ruins of ashes and charred wood. "Fight back?" she said to herself. "Are these people crazy?"
Everyone knew that the rebels were in disarray after the White Envoy arrived in San Carlos, and their only way to survive was to escape. Agatha could not imagine that there would be any brave men in the rebel army who dared to face the Sky Realm. "Or is the demon association fanning the flames?" Demon hunters have also been dispatched, so they should be anxious.
In either case, the Red Wall is no longer a safe haven. The detective girl hurriedly dressed up and got into the carriage in the rain. The carriages in San Carlos were just ordinary carriages, the road was wet and slippery, and the bumps were very unpleasant. When she finally reached her destination, she felt that her injuries had worsened.
She was greeted by the candlelight of the church. "You came earlier than the appointed time, Mademoiselle Poirot," said the priest.
The carriage stopped in front of a church. The driver drove the horse into the hayloft, then took off his leather clothing and put on the armor of a cross knight. The detective lady was shaking the water off her coat. She thanked him politely. "It's not that far in advance," she replied. "The weather was really bad. The horses' hooves were slipping in the puddles. Fortunately, I came by car, otherwise I would have broken my leg on the road. God bless me. I finally saw my friend intact." She walked into the ceremony where the priest was preaching. Hall, sitting in the first row of benches.
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