Special method? Could it be said that you have to give in to a trick? But their eyes were quite gentle, and they didn't look like they were going to take action.
"Okay, Mr. van der Rohe, thank you for your cooperation with the investigation, but please do not leave Faslanka until the case is closed. If necessary, please be sure to notify the police officer of the Shipley-on-the-Rhine Police Station, otherwise you will Become a fugitive." The middle-aged police officer finally warned.
"Ah...no, no problem."
Wait, is this the end? Just say a few words? Isn't this a little too hasty?
Weinerson obviously felt that the matter was too simple. After all, this was a party involving the arrival of a hidden existence. Normally, these official police would not let him go so easily.
In Weinerson's blank eyes, Hollington had already led the middle-aged police officer at the head out of the dark and damp corridor. The young police officer following him at the end suddenly stopped after taking two steps and turned his head abruptly toward Wei Nasen said something.
"That's great, you're lucky."
"What?" Weinerson looked confused.
The bookish, silver-haired young police officer smiled slightly and raised the bronze lantern in his hand slightly forward.
"Under the illumination of the fire of the soul, you have not fallen. Generally speaking, it only takes 12 seconds, and the darkness hidden deep in your heart will be clearly outlined."
"We're honestly surprised and lucky to see you're okay, otherwise you would have been banished."
After saying that, he quickly followed the middle-aged police officer out of the corridor and disappeared into the darkness.
"exile?"
When Weinerson heard this unfamiliar word, he instinctively felt something strange. After two seconds, he suddenly widened his eyes and looked at the two people disappearing into the dark corridor with horror on his face. An ancient title appeared in his mind. ——Clergy!
.........
On the banks of the Rhine River, on the second floor of Langchamp Library!
"Captain, the detection feedback of the inner fire has produced results. There is nothing wrong with him. He is a very pure soul, not contaminated by unknown evil."
The person speaking was a young silver-haired police officer with lazy eyes, slender cheeks and a bookish face. He was currently in an office, reporting to a handsome middle-aged police officer.
"But I still have doubts. Everyone at the party that night has fallen, but he has not. Captain, is this a problem in itself?"
"Many times we need to believe in objective facts and cannot speculate based on self-awareness. This is not rigorous."
After the middle-aged police officer finished speaking, he inserted his hand invisibly into the pocket of his black windbreaker and took out a simple golden pocket watch. This was different from other ordinary pocket watches. It was engraved with many small incantations and squirming details. Bloodshot.
Staring at the strange golden pocket watch in his hand, the middle-aged police officer softly uttered the Gruen word "backtrack", then opened it with a click, and saw that the hands inside were slowly moving in a clockwise direction.
Tick...tick...
After glancing at the time, it clicked shut, then clicked open again, and even after clicking it twice in succession, it still turned clockwise.
"There is nothing wrong with him, at least as far as is known, there is nothing wrong with him. He has experienced extraordinary events without dying. He is special enough and lucky enough. For the Night Watchmen, this kind of luck is needed."
"By the way, that mysterious power came last night. Faslanka is destined to be unstable recently. Besik, please inform Frank and Elena to pay more attention recently!"
"Yes, Captain!"
.........
Hetonmare, the capital of the Kingdom of Ghent, Silver Cross Street in the Zotland District, the branch of the Holy See of St. Honavitch in the Kingdom of Ghent, in the underground church.
Archbishop John Ruskin, wearing a black and red robe and holding a dark red cross, sat in front of the bishop's desk, stroking the parchment with ancient patterns and yellowing surface on the table.
"Mr. Black Sheepskin, in the name of the Archbishop of the Honavitch Church, I would like to ask you about the changes in Faslanca, the third trading area of Ghent!"
...
"Mr. Black Sheepskin, in the name of Sleep and Crimson, I order you to respond..."
...
This, why didn't Sealed Artifact 1-101 react at all?
Is there something wrong with the direction I asked? No, that's not right.
Archbishop John Ruskin immediately changed his rhetoric, but the black sheepskin still showed no reaction, as if it was really just a plain ordinary parchment...
.........
Southwest of Florence, the outer ring of the Scandinavian White Desert!
Like a creamy snow-white desert glowing quietly in the dark night, a dilapidated, old-fashioned three-masted black sailboat with no logo, no flag, and no national symbol sailed in the icy cold wind.
Jack D. Sparrow, wearing a robe painted with lightning waves and a three-cornered hat on his head, stepped on the sail and looked up at the empty and lonely desert ahead, as well as the chicken-shaped stones, camel stones, seal stones and mushrooms standing everywhere. stone.
"Sure enough, in addition to being able to travel on the ocean, the Black Pearl can also travel in the desert. If you think about it carefully, you can't help but admire the magic of the ghost ship."
Jack whispered alone, and at this moment, a sailor wearing the same blue clothing ran onto the deck from the cabin and shouted to the back of the man standing on the sail.
"Captain, secret message from Faslanka Church..."
Faslanca? Could it be the Viatu Sacrifice? Is she now desperate to get her hands on this ancient relic?
Jack looked up and stared at the towering tip at the top of the mast. A black gold coin with ancient patterns engraved on it kept hovering on his fingertips...
.........
Gothic tall buildings and wide streets made of black bricks are the main colors of Mink Street. To a certain extent, this street still retains its unique medieval flavor.
The crimson radiating earth, the slightly eerie moonlight shines in from the glass window on the second floor of Frank's apartment, covering the grid wall lamp on the wall next to the desk with a thin layer of gauze.
Weinerson paced back and forth in the room, thinking about the intentions of the group of clerics. His brows raised slightly, and his amber eyes grew deeper.
Jason mentioned in his diary that the clergy are a group of complete lunatics. They serve the gods and master the extraordinary. They are very dangerous existences in themselves.
This group of lunatics came to me today because the original owner attended a mysterious party three days ago. They found a suspected ancient and secret sketch of Honor at the scene, and thus suspected that the failed art student believed in an unknown evil god.
But what they didn't know was that the original Weinerson had already died in that party, and now standing in front of them was Chen Xiuyuan who had traveled from another time and space.
But having said that, was that sketch really drawn by me... uh... by the original owner before I traveled through time?
But why did he paint this picture? He should know that there are many ancient hidden existences full of malicious intentions in the world.
Weinerson took two steps forward and suddenly paused. With the light of the red full moon outside the window, his eyes moved down and landed on the bronze ring again.
This bronze ring, which allows people to enter a mysterious space, looks so abnormal, strange and indescribable under the crimson moon!
The portrait on the sketch paper is it, the hidden existence prayed for by the original owner is it, maybe my time travel is also because of it...
