I will be crowned king

"boom--!"

The slightly red gun barrel spurted out fire like dragon's breath, and the firework-like barrage mixed with gunpowder smoke hit the suspect. Under the kinetic energy of the lead bullet, his chest and neck were torn apart like glass that had been thrown to the ground.

Seeing the suspect smashed into a pile of coal on the ground, Lisa, who was holding the shotgun, was quite satisfied and even raised her chin proudly.

The great Sheriff Lisa once again saved the people of Beluga Harbor from evil criminals!

Of course, there were some minor setbacks in the process (referring to almost being lost), and it also caused a little trouble for the people of Beluga Harbor (referring to the multiple use of grenades to blow up the streets, which destroyed many wooden sheds and houses). ), and almost exposed his identity (referring to being found to be a spell caster, but the suspect was dead anyway, so no one knew)...

But compared with the results, all of this is obviously worth it!

If there is anything that makes the girl particularly regretful, it is probably that she could not capture the suspect alive. After all, a living suspect is more valuable (because a certain guardian failed to fulfill his duties, Lisa cannot distinguish between "important" and "important". "valuable" difference).

As for the other one, it was because the other party did not plead guilty in the end, which resulted in her not being able to say "In the name of the Sheriff, the criminal is sentenced to death!" when she pulled the trigger!

Lisa thought this sentence was very handsome.

She practiced everything from movements to expressions no less than twenty times, and the mirror at the headquarters can prove this - it still retains the craters left by the shotgun.

"Well……"

But because the suspect did not plead guilty in the end, all the hard-practiced movements and slogans turned out to be useless... As soon as she thought of this, the happy Lisa immediately puffed up her cheeks angrily and stared at the "crushed coal" on the ground with vicious eyes. ".

Although she was angry, Lisa did not forget her important duty as a "sheriff"; she squatted down and began to search among the "debris" on the ground.

[Article 9 of the Sheriff’s Code: As a Sheriff, you must never let go of any details related to criminal acts. 】

Although the suspect's body was first blown up by a grenade and then hit by a shotgun, it was still "complete" - at least all the pieces were still there, and even if they couldn't be put together, it wouldn't hinder the search for clues.

But what makes Lisa particularly disappointed is that the suspect, perhaps because he was eager to escape, did not carry much with him at all; there were no signs or badges to prove his identity, no weird magic props, and no weapons with special shapes...

There was only an ordinary short knife, a few silver and copper coins hidden in his clothes, which were stuck to his skin due to the explosion, and the boots that were barely intact on his feet.

Lisa picked up the evidence in disappointment and carefully hid it under her coat, preparing to hand it over to Anson or Karl for disposal later.

After doing all this, the chief sergeant picked up the weapon he had dropped on the ground, adjusted his collar and scarf a little, and took out a "cigarette" from his pocket again, holding the cigarette in his hand behind his back, deep and shallow Walk your feet in the direction you came from.

Five minutes later, Stormtrooper soldiers carrying shotguns finally arrived at the scene one after another. They stopped ten meters away from the center of the explosion with "tacit understanding" and froze in place.

A huge irregular hemispherical pit was blasted in the center of the street, which looked exactly like a forty-eight-pound mortar shell falling from the sky; gunpowder smoke mixed with the stench of various domestic garbage wafted out from the center of the pit, making the The soldiers were inaccessible.

The houses on both sides of the streets were even more miserable. They were completely covered by the "blizzard" rolled up by the explosions. Many of the shaky wooden sheds were simply destroyed. Only the houses buried in the black and white snowdrifts could be seen. "Component".

Those houses that were originally "sturdy" were even more miserable. Many were blown away by the air waves in the first round of explosions, hit the ground like toys and then completely disintegrated, turning into broken bricks and rubble everywhere.

As for the craters left by the lead bullets, the rags and rubbish thrown everywhere, the damaged wooden sheds and smashed walls... they are countless; the cries and screams could be heard one after another, even in the neighborhood next door. Clear as day.

It didn't look like a "sheriff" was chasing the escaping suspect at all. It looked more like two evenly matched armies had just launched a bloody battle on the streets, and the process was quite brutal.

"Clean up the scene... There is one more person, go and call Commander Alexei over."

Carl Bain sighed helplessly - although it was not that he had not guessed the consequences of the matter, the fact that it caused such a big fuss for the first time was still far beyond his expectation.

"Oh, right!"

Before the herald could run away, the chief of staff raised his hand to stop him again: "Tell your regimental commander, when you come here, remember to bring more people - at least a whole company!"

"Is this to arrest the murderer?!"

The messenger's eyes shone.

"This is to save people!" Carl Bain rolled his eyes:

"And then... maybe the entire community will have to be rebuilt as well."

……………………

Meanwhile, the Big Teapot Tavern.

In the quiet tavern, the only sound that could be heard was the steaming sound of the big teapot.

The trembling guests were lying on the table, and other than constantly looking around with their peripheral vision or craning their necks to look at the street, they did not even dare to leave their seats easily.

The soldiers of the garrison and the "sheriff" have left, but the movement outside has not stopped. In addition to the messy sound of iron boots and gunshots, there was also the sound of explosions from a distance not long ago.

The tavern owner was lying in front of the bar, wiping the spotless table with the dry rag in his hand over and over again, repeating the action mechanically as if he was possessed, desperately trying to reduce his sense of presence.

The big hot teapot was still sizzling, and the boss, who didn't even raise his head, kept looking around with the corner of his eyes, secretly observing the actions of the guests and the movements outside.

Soon, the streets seemed to have quieted down; although patrolling soldiers could still be seen on the streets, they all carried their weapons behind their backs, just like they usually did when patrolling, except that the number was larger and they all seemed very hurried.

Even the guests who were still timid at the beginning gradually relaxed their vigilance and began to cautiously gather at several tables in small groups, lowering their voices and discussing in low voices; some of them were still lying on their tables and fast asleep...or pretending to A deep sleep.

Teapot Street is the newest of all the communities. The people who live here are all the poorest immigrants and indigenous people, who have no contact with each other and want to live in other communities.

But this does not prevent them from getting together when they encounter danger. After all, whether immigrants or indigenous people, it is natural to stick together when encountering difficulties.

After a while, the tavern owner finally put down the rag in his hand and planned to leave the bar quietly without saying anything.

The moment he turned around, a voice suddenly blocked his way.

"Ahem...have a drink."

The shocked boss slowly turned his head and found that a thin figure suddenly appeared on the bar in front of him.

The man was wearing a tattered and faded old coat, which exuded a strong fish smell. His messy hair covered most of his face like seaweed under an old top hat, and he was holding a rather delicate pipe in his mouth. .

The tavern owner remembers a guy.

These days, he often comes to his pub; unlike those "real regulars", he never asks for hot water, sometimes a glass of beer, sometimes a beer mixed with water, and sometimes he even orders a fish...

Coupled with the fact that the other party always had a briar pipe in his mouth, the tavern owner probably guessed the other party's identity: a down-and-out nobleman or a bankrupt wealthy businessman.

This kind of guy is definitely not uncommon in the colonies. It is usually difficult for them to get rid of the past right away. They will spend all their property in the fifth to six months after arriving in the colony, and become as penniless as all the residents of Teapot Street.

The tavern owner had no sympathy for this kind of guy, and just wanted to drain him of his last few coins. He even looked forward to the moment when the other party would trade the pipe with him for drinks.

So he immediately put on a smile and said, "What would you like to drink?"

"Have a glass of beer." The man paused and hesitated for a moment before saying:

"...mix some hot water, it's too cold."

"Yeah, it's getting colder and colder lately."

The tavern owner quickly took a cup, poured half a cup of beer and placed it on the table. He stared at the pipe in the corner of his mouth: "Six copper coins."

The man was stunned for a moment: "Isn't it three?"

"That was the price before." The tavern owner inadvertently raised the corner of his mouth:

"The weather has been too cold recently and firewood is so expensive. We can't help but raise the price."

"Of course, for the sake of our friendship these two days, if you are short of money recently, I can buy you a cup of hot water... As for the time you stay, you can calculate it according to the price of the drink."

The man suddenly fell silent.

The tavern owner didn't say anything. He deliberately pushed the half glass of wine forward, hugged his shoulders and waited patiently, while his eyes kept scanning to a certain corner of the tavern.

The soldiers outside the door were still coming and going, and they were becoming more frequent.

After a while...just when the tavern owner was about to leave, the man suddenly took the pipe from the corner of his mouth, and gently placed it on the bar with his clenched right hand trembling.

"Bring me...a full bottle."

The deep voice sounded like he had made some kind of determination.

"no problem!"

The tavern owner, who was ecstatic inside, agreed decisively and immediately took a whole bottle of wine from the shelf behind him and placed it in front of the man.

But when he went to get the pipe, the other party didn't let go.

"I want to ask something." The man suddenly said:

"Actually, it just suddenly occurred to me, but no matter how I thought about it, it felt wrong."

The tavern owner timidly retracted his hand, glanced at a corner of the tavern, and then smiled at the man: "Please tell me."

"That's the... police chief just now. She said that the murderers finally ran here." The man said slowly, silently picking up the half glass of wine:

"And you said those three people rented the loft and never met them after that."

"Yes." The boss blinked:

"What's wrong?"

The man put down his wine glass and pointed to the door that was shattered by the grenade: "But just now one of them ran out from here."

"Uh..." the tavern owner's expression changed slightly:

"That's what I said, not to mention I don't know those guys - why do you care about this?"

"I don't care, I said... this is just what I suddenly thought of." The man still said slowly:

"I just think that if the three of them opened a room here for the first time and were covered in blood, the usual tavern owner... would be very impressed by such 'guests'."

"How could it be that in just a few days, the other person's appearance was completely forgotten?"

"So I suddenly thought of a possibility: you actually know them, but you don't dare to tell others because they are the murderers of soldiers." The man continued:

"You allow them to hide in your tavern so that they can have a place to hide in the limelight - because Teapot Street is a remote and dirty place, and usually the big shots won't want to come."

"But... they're coming."

The smile on the tavern owner's face gradually disappeared.

"But actually the most interesting thing is the guy who suddenly ran out just now." The man changed the subject:

"It's interesting, right? In fact, the police chief and the soldiers didn't find any clues or evidence at all, and he suddenly ran out - as if he deliberately told others that he was the murderer. Isn't this stupid?"

"But I don't think so. I think he is very brave; this gentleman most likely intends to use himself as a bait to make the soldiers think that the murderer has escaped and attract their attention."

"And his accomplices... are probably still in this tavern."

"Who are you anyway?"

The tavern owner's face turned completely cold.

"Are you unhappy? I'm sorry."

After a gentle apology, the man finally let go of his right hand on the pipe, and at the same time stretched his left hand towards the bottle: "I just have nothing to do and want to chat with you."

The tavern owner snorted and reached for the briar pipe on the table.

The moment he touched it, his pupils suddenly shrank, and his whole person was stunned as if he was petrified.

This pipe... is a magic item!

Click——

The sound of the hammer being knocked suddenly sounded in my ears. The man in front of me suddenly had a revolver in his right hand, and the muzzle of the gun was pressed against his chin.

"But to be honest, I think you and your accomplices are still not very smart." The man continued. The wine bottle held in his left hand and his body cleverly blocked the line of sight, so that the people behind him could not see the revolver in his hand:

"I'm not guessing that the murderer should still be hiding in this tavern, but I know 100% that you are hiding here... I just don't know who it is and how many accomplices he has, and he has been lying in wait for so many days."

"So...thank you for your message just now, I can finally confirm that there are really only three people - after excluding the ones who ran away, you and the guy in the corner are still left, right?"

"who are you?!"

"who I am?"

The man put down the bottle, put down the bottle in the boss's horrified eyes, raised his hand and took off the hat and wig on his head, revealing a thin face like a musician:

"Commander of the White Whale Harbor garrison...Anson Bach."

As he finished speaking, Anson lightly tapped the bar with his knuckles; instantly, the tavern owner heard a loud noise coming from behind him.

"boom--!!!!"

Along with the choking smoke, the wall behind him collapsed, revealing the street behind him.

As well as Lieutenant Colonel Alexei who came to inquire, and his entire company of line infantrymen who were in position with their guns raised.