Blood of Mercury

The wind is like a knife.

The previous explosion did not bring warmth to this northern city at all, and large snowflakes began to fall.

A man dressed in ruins curled up in the corner, looking at the gray sky with cloudy and lifeless eyes.

His neck was cracked and blood was dripping. There were two gray-black marks with blood scabs near the wound, and the vicinity was full of blisters, and even pus had begun to flow.

A pungent burnt smell came along with the howling wind.

He awkwardly tightened his collar with his left hand, and with a slight movement of his right hand, he frowned in pain.

I saw that ten nails on his hands were violently pulled out, and three thick iron nails full of rust were nailed to the knuckle of his right finger.

This is a dying wild dog, as anyone can see at a glance.

"sorry Sorry…"

A whimper rolled in his torn throat, tears of remorse in his eyes.

That blighted master was so merciful - even if he wanted to assassinate him, he didn't blame him, but let him go.

The Blighter was right—he wasn't.

He himself knew that he was just collecting money and fighting disasters with others.

Just like a dagger stained with blood, there is no need to repent for killing someone.

But at the end of the day, he had never seen an assassin who would be forgiven by his target. If he was forgiven by others, he would laugh at the useless pity and ridiculous innocence of the other party, but because of the sentence "you are not wrong", the pastor of the Lord of Darkness was deeply moved.

How many people can understand me?

No one ever.

Except for the blighted master with a noble heart.

—But, he betrayed it himself.

Unable to bear the torture, he finally leaked all the questions that the wither master asked him.

As a result, the pastor of the Lord of Darkness was pessimistic and hopeless, full of deep guilt.

I can't even keep secrets... I'm so useless, I'll freeze to death here.

"...It's snowing."

Leng Leng, the priest of the master of darkness stared blankly at a snowflake falling on his wound, the strange cry of coolness and stinging pain made him cry uncontrollably.

He felt that death was coming.

No one will force a priest to be strong before he dies - he is not a full-time assassin, nor has he undergone rigorous training, and it is not his fault that he is weak.

However, in the endless cold that made his whole body stiff, he couldn't help but think of the warm left hand that the wither master patted on his right shoulder. Warm almost hot.

It seems...to be...

Muttering vaguely, he briefly lost consciousness.

City of Fortune, Sewer, Lower Level of Rib Street.

Roland and a group of thugs stood in front of a crossroads.

"Don't come here yet, I'll test it," Roland didn't turn his head, but said solemnly with his back to the crowd, "Don't worry about me. If my life is in danger, I'll get a hunch."

"Mr. Orlando, please be careful."

Deckard's tone was full of worry, but also with a little respect.

After determining that the culprit of the continuous explosion was the professor, he completely relaxed his vigilance against Roland. He even felt guilty for his previous doubts about him.

Just now, he had sent out the news that the professor was the culprit through the contact information between the three magic sword wizards.

Deckard has decided that if Mr. "Orlando" is really in any danger, he will be rescued even if his identity is exposed!

He watched Mr. "Orlando" in a black robe resolutely walk into the first fork, and sighed deeply.

There are not many people who can still have such a noble heart these days.

Even if Mr. "Orlando"'s golden-level alienation seems to favor a certain evil god, it cannot hide his kind soul. Just if it is outside, then the evil spirits can indeed offset his merits, but this is a city of wealth, a place where it is impossible.

What happened to the communication with the evil god? The laws of those hypocrites don't apply here! Here is the nation of those of us who yearn for freedom!

Deckard's right hand was already faintly pressing on the ritual dagger around his waist.

His ceremonial dagger is a rare weapon that can be used once a day with immobility.

If Mr. Orlando really senses any danger and cannot escape, let yourself save him.

The young magic knife wizard is ready to go.

After Roland stepped into the shadows, he felt the breath of the undead in his chest, and the walking corpse beside him immediately retreated in fright.

Before, Roland hid in the crowd, so that the breath of the dead in this small black box was hidden by the breath of the living. Therefore, no one noticed that these walking corpses subconsciously didn't want to approach Roland.

And when he got away from the crowd, the breath became obvious.

Squinting at the walking corpse that was gradually receding, Roland stood in the sewer and generously took out the mark that the professor gave him.

Roland had already calculated the time and location of the next explosion when he exterminated those walking corpses just now, so without any consideration, he directly ordered—

"In the name of unity, mutual assistance, equality, and reproduction," Roland opened his mouth and said softly in a very gentle voice, "No. 3 and No. 4, detonate in five minutes; Seven to nineteen, detonate in sixteen minutes..."

"...And, No. 2, it will detonate in seventeen minutes."

After the order was completed, Roland took out the small black box from his arms and hung it behind the head of a walking corpse who was afraid of himself and kept retreating. It roared and moved forward slowly with fear.

Afterwards, Roland took out a bottle of potion from the suitcase, reached out and lightly pressed it, pouring all the potion into his stomach.

"This is... the twenty-sixth."

Glancing at the label on the potion, Roland then threw it in the corner.

But he seemed to think of something immediately, sneered, took out the No. 27 potion and poured a third of it on the empty bottle of No. 26.

"Although I don't think there will be such idiots, but you have to take precautions, right?"

Roland murmured, and tore a piece of paper from the notebook in his arms, scribbled something on it, and stuck it on the forehead of the screaming and struggling walking corpse.

Then Roland led the walking corpse to the end of the passage, skillfully pressed the switch, and opened the secret door.

There have long been boring thieves on the forum who have drawn the topography of the sewer of the entire City of Fortune. Under the secret door detection feature, all kinds of secret doors and traps are naturally clearly marked.

Although some of the treasures inside were taken away by the thief long ago, this also cannot hide the value of this topographic map.

For example, the secret door in front of Roland leads directly to the bedroom of the undead in Rib Street. UU reading www.uukanshu.com If the timing is right, he can go in and steal some things when he is not at home.

Of course, on the other hand, it's not impossible to wait for him to do something when he is at home.

"Then, on the twenty-sixth, it will detonate in seventeen minutes and thirty seconds."

Just when Roland made these actions, another ten seconds passed. So strictly speaking, this walking dead friend with a warm heart will detonate about forty seconds after the second explosion.

If Roland remembered correctly, the person who drank No. 2 seemed to be... Old Tom, right?

Roland sneered, and put the body parts of the undead stuck in the back of his head. The walking corpse, which was walking forward like a donkey with a carrot **** in front of him, was sent into the secret door. After closing the secret door, the mechanism shattered.

Then he took a second to adjust his expression, and happily walked out to the crowd waiting for him outside.

"There is no danger here. Come in."

"It's great that you're all right."

Everyone let out a long sigh of relief and deeply sighed that good people really have good rewards.

————

Today's second update, please recommend.

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The ten strings trembled...

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