The middle-aged police officer from last night? Is he here to find me?
Weinerson's face looked a little unnatural, and he subconsciously wanted to leave quickly, because whether here or on Earth, he was instinctively afraid of the police profession.
"Hello Mr. Vandero, my name is Joseph Paxton. Nice to see you again." Joseph took off his hat and saluted, and the unhurried and gentle voice still came from his throat.
"Hello, Officer Paxton, I have something urgent to do, so I'll take my leave now!"
Weinerson quickly raised his left foot and just took a step forward. His expression suddenly fell into a trance, and he felt as if his soul was being stared at by something. In an instant, dense cold sweat stood up on his entire back.
What's going on, why do you feel this palpitation?
Oops, I can’t lift my thighs without any strength, it’s so heavy.
Seeing his left foot raised quickly and then slowly falling down, Weinerson's eyes suddenly shrank, and he turned his head stiffly. At this time, Joseph Paxton did nothing but held the cane with both hands. , looking at him with a gentle smile.
"What's wrong with you? What happened?" Joseph Paxton asked with a warm face.
"I, I don't know, I can't move, I, I feel like I'm being stared at by something." Weinerson looked at the lively crowd around him warily and answered blankly.
"Unable to move? Like you're being stared at by something? Are you sure, Mr. Vandero?"
"Definitely, I feel like something scary is around me, and really, something bad might happen to me."
"Your current mental state tells me that you are afraid. What are you afraid of?"
Joseph's expression changed from warm and warm to serious: "Perhaps you should think back to what happened in the past few days, such as some kind of gathering, some kind of ceremony, or some kind of prayer."
Hearing Joseph Paxton's words, Weinerson was startled for a moment, and then a wry smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"The party, yes, it is a party. All my friends died during the party, including Kleiss Ting and Vercino, but their deaths had nothing to do with me."
"I know this. Now the police have enough strong evidence to directly prove that the deaths of Kleis Ting and Vercino were an accident. To be honest, I really want to know what happened and find out what happened to you." What happened to these two poor friends, but you need to cooperate with me.”
"I can't remember. I almost completely forgot what I did that day. Officer, you may not believe it. After the party, my memory seemed to have a gap and I couldn't remember anything."
"The psychological quality is good, very strong." Joseph nodded invisibly.
"You should be able to tell that I am telling the truth. I feel that this horror is approaching step by step. What should I do? What should I do?" Weinerson looked directly into the other person's eyes and said almost in a pleading tone. .
Joseph listened quietly and spoke slowly: "Of course I can tell. Whether it is the content of what you said or the results of our investigation, at least every word of yours can stand up to scrutiny now, but I don't know how you can Those of you who survived, all your friends at that time degenerated into monsters.”
"Just believe it. To be honest, I don't know how I survived. Maybe it's really the blessing of the God of Sleep and Crimson." Weinason breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's the blessing of the gods, but!"
Joseph threw out a turning point. He lowered his eyes and said in a very firm tone: "You are still highly suspicious. I didn't arrest you temporarily before. I just wanted to see what you would do. But now you have exposed your flaws." .”
"A telltale sign? Did I reveal a telltale sign?" Weinerson asked blankly.
"That's right."
Joseph coughed and his expression became extremely serious, as if it were a piece of thousand-year-old ice: "Look at what you are carrying in your hand?"
Hearing the words of the gray-blue-eyed police officer Joseph, Weinerson looked down. Suddenly, he saw the brown paper bag holding the lamb in his hand, black bread, peas and other things disappearing, replaced by a pale face and dilated pupils. , a human head with a bloody face, and maggots shining in white are twisting and twisting inside.
"ah!"
Weinerson screamed and wanted to throw it away, but the bloody head covered with maggots seemed to be stuck to his hand. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get rid of it. The bugs had begun to crawl onto his hand.
"Mr. Weinerson, please cooperate with the investigation and go back to the police station with us. If you are proven guilty of murder, you will be hanged." Joseph said, the black cane in his hand was gone, only the bright revolver The pistol shone with a suffocating luster in the sunlight.
"Let's go quickly. If you have anything to say, we'll talk to the police station."
Joseph pressed the barrel of his gun against Weinerson's back, signaling for him to go first.
Just as Weinerson was about to take a step, suddenly a blond lady next to her grabbed a newspaper vendor and started a struggle. More and more people were watching, and the surroundings suddenly became chaotic.
good chance!
Weinerson didn't have time to think too much, he ducked and dodged, rushed into the crowd, and ran wildly towards the other end of the street.
"Hmph, if you want to catch me and hang me, there's no way."
After all, I am someone who has read online articles. I am a time-traveler. Being hanged by you would be too embarrassing for other time-traveling seniors... Hey, wait, what are online articles? What is a time traveler?
No matter, there are surging crowds all around now, and he doesn’t dare to shoot at will. As long as I can escape to Pulitzer Harbour, and then take a steam train along the Rhine River, escape all the way to the capital Hetonmare, where there is a large population. , there are probably millions of people added every day, and even the police can't even think of finding me.
If they set up a checkpoint on the waterway, I would go to the steam train station in the north of the city and take the steam train all the way south to Hutton Mar. The nearest train is at 8am, so I still have a quarter of an hour to escape.
Not long after, Weinerson had already reached the corner of the street. In front of him was the intersection, to the east was the Port of Predz, where Mies and Gropius were transporting goods at the Pier of the Port of Predz, and to the south was Mink Street, where Frank's apartment was. Not far away, heading north, is the steam train station, with nearly three steam trains running to Hetton Mar every day.
"Three directions, where am I going?"
Weinerson looked at the intersection, suddenly froze again, and blurted out unconsciously.
"Go to your home..."
The human head in his hand suddenly spoke ferociously and answered his words in a solemn tone.
What? In astonishment, Weinerson looked up at the head in his hand, revealing his deep and cold gray-blue eyes, Joseph Paxton!
"You, how could you do that?" Weinerson's eyes widened inexplicably, and suddenly the world started spinning, and the next second he suddenly opened his eyes.
Still in the square at the intersection of Mink Street and Attician Street, still standing at the entrance of the newly built Divination Club, surrounded by people still crowded with leaflets.
Weinerson stretched out his hand and touched his forehead. Dense cold sweat was wet and cold, and he felt the same on his back.
"Fortunately, fortunately it's not true. It was just a hallucination..." Weinerson exhaled slowly and relaxedly, because the scene was really terrible.
After relaxing slightly, he felt the strength coming from the soles of his feet and arms. He clenched the ingredients in his hands and prepared to go home.
Suddenly, when he turned his head, he saw a figure standing behind him, about six feet tall.
The figure wore a black tuxedo, a black silk top hat, and held a gold cane in his left hand. He had a handsome appearance, a straight nose, and deep gray-blue eyes.
Joseph Paxton!
Weinerson couldn't help but take a step back, as if he was trapped in an endless loop. For a moment, he didn't know whether he was in reality or still in an illusion.
The figure held the cane, took off the black half-high silk top hat, bowed slightly, and smiled warmly.
"The Night Watchman, Joseph Paxton."
