Knight of the Light

In the shady and dark room, Marcos stared at the open door. After confirming that there was no threat, he quickly picked up his pistol and reloaded the disassembled bullets and magazines.

Click, the magazine is in place, the gun is locked, and the safety is opened.

Marcos ran out of the door with a gun and aimed at the stairs. His heart beats, his heart is calm, but his body is excited, and he can fight at any time.

The old-fashioned apartment staircase is narrow and dark, with wet ground and green mold on the corners. Some tenants came back in the middle of the night to vomit in the stairwell, disgusting and unpleasant.

Marcos' muzzle was facing down and up again.

The stairwell is not quiet, and every household is making a loud noise. The neighborhoods are too close, and doing something is like broadcasting.

After a few seconds, Marcos slackened in confusion and closed the door again.

Damn, what the **** happened?

Marcos touched his chest, and his lungs had just spurted out when he hit the top of his knee, a feeling of near-death. The psychological horror has not dissipated, but it is physiologically fine.

Entering the bathroom and looking in the mirror, he still has blood on the corner of his mouth. But the left lower jaw that was supposed to be red and swollen was safe and sound, even if I rubbed my finger a minute ago, it still hurts a lot.

"Who the **** am I causing?" Marco Kee squeezed his face, feeling that he looked much better than usual.

As an intelligence officer, life is not as handsome and exciting as in the movie, but instead is highly tense and dull all year round. Because of his hopeless future, Marcos contracted alcoholism in the past two years.

This is true of many Eastern Europeans now, including men, women and children. Life is hopeless, and you can only rely on the drunkenness of drinking to resolve the sorrow, and it is common to be frozen to death in the wild.

Because drunken freezes and freezes too frequently, the later Maozi gangs were too lazy to kill and use guns and knives. At night, they asked the target to drink in a tavern, then drunk and moved to the open air.

The next day the body was hard, the police came easily, and the accident was only after drinking.

Heavy alcohol abuse can easily lead to alcoholic cirrhosis, fatigue, burnout, depression, and dull complexion. It is easy to distinguish alcoholics by looking at their appearance.

However, Marcos reached for his liver and pressed it against his own liver in the mirror, recalling what happened a few minutes ago, "That guy has superpowers?"

No kidding, the US and the Soviet Union have carefully considered the idea of ​​superhumans since the 1960s, and invested a lot of money to do a lot of experiments.

After the outbreak of science and technology after World War II, humans invented computers across the ages, entered space, and landed on the moon. With the support of strong national power, nothing can stop the imagination of scientists.

The first satellite, the first astronaut, the first space station, landed on the moon for the first time, traveled to Mars for the first time, produced a spacecraft for the sun for the first time, or flew out of the solar system to explore the vast expanse of the universe.

Thirty years later, technological development has stalled. Ordinary people feel that their lives are changing with each passing day, but scientists are just tinkering with their predecessors, waiting for the next technological revolution.

In the nineties, it was believed that the top aluminous pot received alien energy. If someone really has mastered superpowers, it is not unacceptable.

Zhou Qingfeng's abnormal ability makes Marcos have to think seriously. Is this a scam? Illusion? little tricks? Are possible. But his body clearly stated that something magical happened.

"It's really through." Marcos shook his head, put on his clothes, and hid his pistol. He grabbed the business card left by Irene and hurried out.

If he is still a member of ‘Stasi’ or ‘KGB’, Marcos will not hesitate to report to his superior and wait for instructions.

But now there is a ghost superior.

Do you know how bad the situation is now? The huge Soviet empire is falling apart. A great emperor also came home from East Germany, so he had to wonder whether it was feasible to drive a taxi in Moscow?

History is full of absurdity and ignorance.

"This is clearly bullying me for helplessness."

Marcos came out of the apartment and ate early on the street. He didn't think much, and the status quo did not allow him to waste time. He pinched his business card and dialed the number above.

"Hello, this is Marcos."

Irene's surprise sounded on the end of the phone, and then Zhou Qingfeng answered the phone, "Mr. Marcos, I thought I would only receive your call tomorrow."

Marcos stood on the messy street below the apartment building, looked up at the broken house where he dwelled, and sighed: "No one will find an intelligence officer to sell small underground movies."

"No, no," Zhou Qingfeng interrupted: "The company now has a wide range of businesses, and we are not just making realist movies.

I was in contact with a group of Vietnamese before, and connected to a smuggling network that can communicate throughout Southeast Asia.

Now ‘Holy Light Entertainment’ is providing diverse spiritual food for hundreds of millions of people. We also rely on mainland China to provide a large number of low-end industrial products and have a strong demand for agricultural products.

This is a very broad market and is worth fighting for for a lifetime. "

Uncle Zhou was bragging about his group, and Marcos rolled his eyes straight on the phone.

The latter couldn't help but ridicule: "So you have worked hard to toss me, so you plan to make me a salesman and help you sell those books, magazines and videotapes?"

"That's not true." Zhou Qingfeng was not full, "Come to the company building in Causeway Bay. You can look at your office."

‘Holy Light’ has an eight-story office building in Causeway Bay. This place is well-known in hk, and every month there are so-called mistresses who find trouble through various channels.

Marcos has been mixed in ‘Holy Light Entertainment’ several times later, and this time it feels really different this time. He had heard the terrible rumors of this building and knew that the original owner of this place was unknown.

After listening to it, Lao Ma was only a joke. But he was an elite trained by the two largest intelligence agencies in the world. How could he be afraid of the illusory stories?

Today, Lao Ma was standing downstairs in the company, looking at the ordinary glass door. I was really scared.

Are those rumors in the past true?

The so-called **** night massacre, the doomsday, the bizarre disappearance, the brain puppet, Huang Man, etc., Uncle Zhou strongly requested that the last one be crossed out.

It's Marco's turn. He walked downstairs for a while, but walked in with a scalp.

The president's office is on the eighth floor, and Zhou Qingfeng has just returned. Seeing that the old horse appeared at the front and back feet, he asked Irene to make a cup of coffee for the other party and pointed to the sofa.

Yeah, really don't pay attention to the rules, because there are no rules at all.

Marcos glanced at random, very ordinary office.

The floor-to-ceiling windows face the Victoria Bay, but are blocked by other high-rise buildings and there is no sea view.

There is a large desk and two couches in the room. Bookcases, coffee tables, corner bonsai are all available.

Zhou Qingfeng sat on his boss chair, supported the table with one hand, and shook his body with the chair, facing Marcos and said, "I need some nuclear material, uranium 235 or plutonium 239."

Haha, Marcos made a funny laugh. He spread his hands, "I knew it wouldn't be easy?

Nuclear material, I bet you still want a weapon-grade concentration. Isn't this something you can get casually? Nuclear materials are closely monitored. The whole world is staring. "

Zhou Qingfeng shrugged, "So, why don't you do it?"

Irene just handed Marcos a cup of coffee. Zhou Qingfeng beckoned and forcibly snatched him from his hands.

Marcos took a sip in his hand and felt a violent blow. Uncontrollably surprised, he sat up quickly and asked with wide eyes: "How did this happen?"

"Just think of me as Yuri." Coffee fell into Zhou Qingfeng's palm, he took a sip indifferently, "Oh, you may not know what 'Yuri' is yet."