Doomsday Wonderland

This was not the first time for Lin Sanjiu to experience other people's memories and personalities, but this time, she could hardly tell where she ended and where Constantine began.

There was some kind of force that crushed her mercilessly, squeezing the pieces of her and Constantine together like a big steel hand; she couldn't even tell the question "Who am I?" "Whether the personality of this idea is her, Constantine, or a fusion of the two.

Is this a copy of the Twelve Realms, or is it a huge city called the City of Freedom, an unknown number of time and space away?

Lin Sanjiu opened her mouth slightly, and the unfamiliar voice melted into an unfamiliar song, which was slowly dispersed by the microphone in the dimly lit club.

Constantine's level is only average; but she is very interesting tonight.

In the empty club, there were only two tables of men opposite, and two or three bottles of half-drank spirits on the table. Everything was as she had mastered and planned; no matter which side they were in, they knew nothing about the dark net heading towards them.

She had heard about the cadre named Juan, but now she saw that the man was as loose and tasteless as chewed sugarcane bagasse. Even if she was completely unprepared and a batch of goods was actually delivered, this person alone would not be considered a threat.

Of course, Constantine had no interest in singing for the dead.

It's just that tonight is a bit important, so she would rather come and see it in person.

When Juan led a group of people into the club, she was the security guard who stood in the shadows and opened the door for them. No one noticed that she was not actually a man. After all, she was half a head taller than the tallest person in the group.

Constantine lowered his eyes slightly and watched the group of people walking past him one by one, almost with a bit of joy, secretly wishing them success tonight.

It was at this time that she saw the young man with his head half lowered, his long hair disheveled covering his face, his hands in his trouser pockets, and he walked past her silently.

The dozen or so people did not sit down in the hall, but went directly up the stairs to the rooftop. About ten minutes later, they came down again and found two tables on the side of the stage to sit down. After looking at the place where they were about to start, the tension and excitement floating around them was so strong that it seemed as if they stretched out their hands. Can be encountered.

Constantine stretched out his arms to them from afar, and his long velvet gloves shone in the light. Along with the next lyrics, she withdrew her hand, and her light golden fingertips slowly touched the face of the young man in the crowd in the distance.

The men who glanced at her probably thought this action was part of the singer's performance.

Now when she took a closer look, she realized that he didn't seem to be a teenager; he was just as thin as a teenager, wearing a large coat, but it made him look more like he had not yet fully developed. But he looked to be at least eighteen or nineteen, so he should be an adult - for adult men, Constantine could safely send them on their way.

Juan didn't seem to feel at all that there were at least four people around him who didn't regard him as their leader. Constantine was born to be extremely sensitive to power, power and manipulation; the secret obedience and quiet loyalty of those people seemed to revolve around the same young man...

Juan asked him something, and the young man looked at Constantine and shook his head.

She wanted to laugh.

It was quite a bit of entertainment tonight, something she didn't often see in her life.

After a few inaudible conversations, the young man suddenly picked up the unmoving brandy in front of him and slowly wet his hair. Several people around him were stunned for a moment; but he just stretched out his hand and pushed his soaked black hair back, revealing a narrow face.

As if he was half shy and half uninterested, he lowered his eyelids slightly.

Wet eyelashes, cheeks with wine dripping down, tip of nose, glossy lips... The golden-orange liquor seemed to have condensed the halo, and the face shone like honey, except for the shallow pair of eyes. The pupils suddenly became empty.

...It's such a pity that such a child will die tonight.

It's all death, if only she could do it herself. When Constantine thought of this, he slightly suppressed a longing gasp. But no, the plan is the plan.

"Okay, no need to sing, wait until I come to you!"

When Juan led people upstairs, he turned around and shouted loudly to the stage.

She stopped singing and watched them walk out the door.

She thought that was the last time she saw the child; but she didn't expect that only thirty minutes later, he would open the door of her dressing room with a wounded face and a pale face.

When Constantine saw him in the mirror, she almost groaned - she managed to maintain the illusion of a "female singer" for another minute or two with great difficulty; it was too difficult, if she pretended to be longer, She was probably trembling all over.

"I kid you not, this club is very soundproofed."

His hair was dry, and when it slipped through his fingers, it still smelled of wine. A small pistol was buried deep in his black hair, almost obscured from view.

"However, I saw the general process on the rooftop from the surveillance camera... Are you the last person left? Welcome back."

Constantine was half-bent, and his eyes were at the same level as the person in the mirror. The difference in appearance between the two in the mirror was so stark; even when she looked at it, she felt as if the next second, she would press her lips down and suck out his blood.

Of course, Constantine was just a normal woman.

She stretched out her hand, pushed back the black hair that covered his face, and whispered: "You still look better like this, don't you?"

The Adam's apple in the mirror slid up and down.

A pair of eyes can be both light, transparent and bright, and also dark and empty.

"Drop the gun," she ordered in a murmur.

He opened his hand obediently, and the Scorpion submachine gun fell to the carpet with a muffled sound.

So...so good.

He was so good that people would kill him with just one shot.

"I've wondered before why not many people have seen the supplier in person..."

As he spoke, his eyes never left Constantine's eyes in the mirror, as if he were afraid that if he opened his eyes, Constantine would disappear. I don't know if it was because of the injury, but his voice was hoarse. It felt like the edges of his nails were scratching her spine.

"So, the person you put on the train..."

"There are also troubles around me that need to be solved."

On the contrary, Constantine didn't understand - this should be something he could think of immediately. As soon as she learned that someone was going to attack the most important shipment in recent times, she knew who to send aboard.

He doesn't seem stupid enough to be unable to figure this out.

Constantine's answer made him frown.

"You originally wanted to use our hands to kill the people you wanted to kill for you. Then the second car you arranged will kill us all when we relax our vigilance... right? "

Constantine smiled slightly.

Her hand that wasn't holding the gun pressed on his bare shoulder, using the warmth as a point of support; she stretched out one foot and kicked the gun away from under the chair. Scorpion submachine gun.

In just two sentences, this boy - no, this young man, with his uninjured leg, had quietly moved closer to the chair.

"I almost forgot, the gun is still here." Her voice almost came from her nose.

After Juan waited for the group to leave, she couldn't help it and drank a little brandy alone in the dressing room. Constantine also didn't expect that he would need to take action tonight.

The gun was obviously kicked away; but the face in the mirror suddenly smiled, making her doubt his age again for a moment.

"I really have a doubt."

He seemed to know that every time he opened his mouth to speak, he was extending his life by a few seconds.

"It seems that your surveillance coverage is not large...or you can't see clearly at night." He leaned on the back of the chair, raised his head slightly, and the back of his head was almost against the muzzle of her gun, using her gun as a pillow.

Constantine's fingertips gently caressed and caressed the trigger.

He must have heard that little sound too. At this time, it seemed that the whole world had died, and only the two of them were left; in the silence closed by the dressing room door, even the moist curling of lips and tongues when they opened their mouths to speak could be heard.

"Then tell me?"

"I didn't kill the person you put on the train."

Constantine felt his eyebrows jump slightly.

He caught it; and she knew he caught it. "When I came to the door of the second carriage, I felt as if I had been abandoned. There was no sound or light inside."

Knowing that he might be talking nonsense, Constantine still couldn't help but ask: "Oh?"

Because the surveillance coverage of the club she saw was indeed not large enough, and she also thought about why the shootout ended so early and so violently.

"So I climbed out of the train," he whispered in Constantine's ear, as if telling her a story, "and climbed onto the second carriage. I slid down the side of the carriage and looked in the window. One glance..."

"What did you see?"

The two figures in the mirror seemed to be rubbing each other's ears, UU reading www.uukanshu． net The smell of blood and the metallic smell of bullets are intertwined with each other.

"Total darkness."

"Are you deliberately making me angry?" Constantine bit his blood-red lips and almost laughed.

"No, you don't understand."

But he suddenly seemed serious and said in a calm tone: "Moonlight, the light in the first carriage, the light of neon signs, the lights of nearby buildings... the outside world is not pitch black. I mean, it's as dark as ink. ...Only in the second carriage, there were masses of thick black like ink. The light reflected in, as if shining on the weightless masses of ink. The masses of ink black rolled slowly in the air. "

Constantine straightened up. She has no interest in fantasy.

"Your subordinates are also rolling together in the darkness. One of them has an image of the Virgin carved on his arm..." He raised his eyes and said.

Their eyes truly met for the first time.

Constantine shuddered and had goosebumps on his skin.