Blackstone Code

An ordinary person without training can hold his breath for a maximum time of about thirty seconds to fifty seconds. Any longer than that and it will be difficult to maintain.

But after training, people can hold their breath for an amazing length of time!

There is a small island in the Eastern Ocean. The indigenous people on the island rely on the sea to live. These people are like mermaids, able to hold their breath in the sea for a long time.

Most people can hold their breath for about twenty minutes, and some may be able to hold their breath for thirty minutes.

But obviously, art teachers are the kind of people who have good physical fitness but have no professional training.

She didn't know that the more intense the activity in the absence of oxygen, the more oxygen the body would consume, and the sooner she would feel suffocated and die.

Her head was sunk deep into the soft sofa, and Fern's arms were like the steel arms of a crane, without any trembling or deformation, just pressing hard.

The art teacher's hands first shook her hands vigorously, then beat them, and finally dug them with her nails. Her nails were dug out!

Even though Fern's wrist was scratched with a lot of blood, his hand didn't move.

Her movements began to resist violently and then gradually slowed down.

After Fern strangled her neck for about fifty seconds, her body, which had almost no strength, suddenly began to struggle fiercely again.

This strength comes very quickly and is very fierce. This is the last attempt of the body when a person is about to die. The formation of strength exceeds people's understanding, so her resistance is particularly strong!

But no matter how great the power is, it can't be greater than Fern's strength.

After this sudden resistance, she became completely silent.

Fern retracted his hands, but the art teacher's death didn't look good.

He sighed deeply and began to pack his things. The small pieces of paper recording various criminal evidences were burned to ashes and then rushed into the sewer.

After cleaning up all the traces, he sat on the sofa next to the art teacher, covering his face with the hands that had just taken away the art teacher's life.

For the first time, he felt his heart flutter, and he fell deeply in love with the other person.

But in the end, he ended everything.

"You shouldn't be so curious, I told you before!" Fern lit a cigarette and said to the art teacher a little irritably.

"You should listen to me, why would I harm you?"

"You're really stupid!"

After smoking, his mood seemed to be better. He used his hands to help the art teacher arrange his hair, "We will be together forever, I promise!"

With that said, he carefully picked up the art teacher and walked to the basement.

There, there is his studio.

When the lights came on and countless tools were neatly and neatly placed together, he put on his apron and got ready to start working.

But this job is different from any previous one.

…

The next morning, Fern called Lynch.

"Mr. Lynch, the art teacher is dead." His voice did not tremble, and there was no sad emotion, just the most ordinary tone.

When Lynch heard this sentence, his first thought was that someone had killed her, but he soon knew that this answer was wrong.

With Fern around, there was no way anyone could get past him and kill someone, and the art teacher wasn't part of them.

No one would take action against an art teacher who was not a threat, at least on the surface.

Then the only possibility is that Fern kills her!

"You don't have to do that," Lynch said after a brief silence.

Fern didn't seem surprised that Lynch knew that he was the one who did it. It seemed that since they followed Lynch, nothing could be hidden from Lynch.

There was something on his face. I don't know if it was a change in expression or a subconscious change in his muscles. "She is too curious and wants to know a lot of things she shouldn't know."

"I tried to persuade her, but she didn't listen. She crossed the line. I had no choice but to kill her..."

At this time, there was a hint of sadness in Fern's voice, but it soon disappeared.

"Mr. Lynch, may I know who is ordering her?"

Revanchism has always been prevalent around the world, and the Federation is no exception.

Fern's inner sadness and anger at this time needed to be vented, and he needed a way to vent.

He wanted to know who was controlling the art teacher, making her continue to make radical attempts on the way to the abyss, and he wanted that person to pay the price for what he had done.

Lynch asked him to wait for a while, then called the nephew of the FBI director and took down a name.

He told Fern the name and information, "This person was her former boss. Later, someone moved the chess piece through him. I don't know who it is, but you can ask yourself."

"I believe he will tell you that he did it wrong after all."

"Thank you, Mr. Lynch. I will go see you when I'm done with this."

"It doesn't matter, I will go to Slem when I have time."

After Fern hung up the phone, he called Noel again, "Brother, I need your help."

Noel was having breakfast. After he asked the servants to leave, he asked, "What do you need from me?"

"She's dead.", almost the same reaction as Lynch, Noel soon realized that the troublesome woman was killed by his brother.

He is actually very happy. After all, there is a nail driven into the entire company from his brother. Once the nail starts to rust and become effective, it will be very difficult for him.

But fortunately, she died.

"I'm sorry to hear that, what do you want me to do?"

Fern told Noel the news that Lynch gave him, "Bring them here for me, I want to entertain them well."

Noel knew that this request was actually a bit excessive, but he would not refuse, so he agreed.

"You can see them tomorrow night at the latest!"

After hanging up the phone, Noel made a call to the current apparent leader of the Brothers Grimm, and then the entire gang began to take action.

And their target had just gotten up at this time.

As a senior civilian agent who is about to retire, this unlucky, slightly bald gentleman has no idea that fate has played a little trick on him.

He came out of the room wearing sleeveless underwear, yawned, took out the newspaper, and sat on the toilet while defecating and reading the newspaper.

At his age and position within the FBI, there was no need for him to be in the office so early—

It's not because of his high status, but because he is about to retire, so no one has arranged a job for him, and people can tolerate his "laziness".

After all, his serious work will dilute the power in the hands of others, so people still hope that it is best for him to leave nothing.

And this is what he hopes for. He will be able to retire in the second half of next year, and then he will be able to rest with a high pension.

He was thinking about his travel plans after retirement, and when he reached for the toilet paper, he found that there was no toilet paper.

He shouted his wife's name and asked her to bring some toilet paper. After shouting several times, footsteps were heard outside the toilet.

He frowned, and the footsteps were a little heavy, not like his wife's footsteps. Could it be that the children were coming?

He didn't know, but he knew it was best to wash away all the shit at this time.

As he reached for the sink cord, the door opened.

A black gun pointed at him, and all his movements stopped there.

His butt was not wiped until he was packed into a travel bag…

By the time everything around him lights up again, no one knows how much time has passed.

At this moment, there was no longer a Federation, he knew that because he knew he was on a plane.

The panic in his heart made him almost speechless. What was even more frightening was that his whole family was here.

"This guy stinks, wash him down."

Fern looked no different from before, a high-end shirt with a little embroidery, black trousers without any wrinkles, and shiny leather shoes.

His strong body and tall stature made him look very visually striking, and the contact person recognized him immediately.

More than once he had looked at the archives of the Brothers Grimm to analyze what could be exploited.

"Where is this...?"

The men under his command were mercilessly washing the contact person's body with water pipes, and were also brushing his buttocks with a horse-bristle brush.

The pain from being brushed was so bad that he gritted his teeth and did not cry out.

Fern replied politely: "This is Slem, Mr. Contact Person."

The contact's pants were torn off because some feces were on them, which made him ashamed and angry.

Because his wife, children and even grandchildren are right next to him, and as a civilized man, he has no pants!

He gritted his teeth and looked at Fern, "Where is the art teacher?"

He had actually realized that the presence of him and his family here was probably related to the art teacher.

Fern took out a pendant from his chest. It was a bone pendant. It looked like it was newly made. It had no jade and no signs of long-term use.

"Look, there she is."

The contact person's expression became even more bitter, and he didn't even know what to say.

He turned his head and glanced at the frightened but speechless family members, and finally begged, "This matter has nothing to do with them. If you want revenge, revenge on me alone is enough."

Fern smiled and put the pendant back into his clothes, "I have nothing to do with you, so why are you so cruel to hurt me?"

"She has nothing to do with you, so why can you be so cruel as to let her die?"

"Why are you asking me not to hurt each of these people when they are related to you?"

"Or is this your standard?"

Fern took out his pistol and fired directly at the group of people. Even though these people's mouths were stuffed, their screams could be heard.

A young man was lying on top of the others. He reached out and touched the blood that was rapidly leaking out of his chest, and his breathing became rapid.

"No!", the contact person's eyes almost popped out!