Secret: Those years when I was a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

14

"...Have you completely mastered the diviner's potion?"

In the Nighthawks Entertainment Room, several people who were having a lively discussion on the "Soothsayer's Code" summarized by Klein fell silent for a moment due to these words. The Nighthawks all turned their attention to the old "Secret Peeper" who was standing just now when he opened the door. After hearing that Klein had submitted his application for promotion, Old Neil hurried over wearing a black classical wizard robe, holding a felt hat of the same color in one hand, and a packed box in the other. He looked at Klein in surprise and put him on the table. I looked up and down several times.

"I must praise the goddess and thank you for your teaching." Klein laughed dryly and said seriously.

"You actually found inspiration from the motto of "Peeper of Secrets" and the experience of Dai Li..." Old Neil looked at him several times and for a while, then shook his head with a wry smile, "Life is scary. If it had been twenty years earlier, if it had been twenty years earlier, I would have..."

"Perhaps there is no difference, because the church does not have the recipe for "Secret Peeper" Sequence 8. "Klein said with relief.

"Perhaps there will be something in the temple...perhaps it can be found in the underground exchange, but I am also very glad that I was not promoted and lived in good health for decades. I praise the goddess." The old secret spy was in a low mood for a few minutes, and then adjusted himself. He smiled and raised the carton in his hand, "This is a day worth celebrating. By chance, Sallysette baked a lot of cookies and butter cakes. She just learned the skills from Mrs. Mary. You are in for a treat."

Everyone's expressions changed instantly.

"Mrs. Salister baked some snacks?"

"Cookies, what kind of cookies are they? Is there chocolate?"

"It's been a long time since I tasted Mrs. Salister's craftsmanship!" Leonard cheered, and the usually quiet Miss Seaga Theon showed expectant eyes, and even the most indifferent body collector Frye sat upright. After a few minutes, the silent entertainment room became active again. Old Neil opened the box with a smile, took out a piece of cake that was enough for everyone, arranged cookies of various flavors, and then went to make coffee for everyone.

Leonard quickly took away the first piece of milk cookie and put it into his mouth happily. After chewing it, it had no taste or texture.

Leonard:?

Leonard's expression changed somewhat. He lowered his head and pretended to be chewing, and whispered quietly:

"Old man, do you want to rob this too?!"

What's the fuss, it's just a cookie. The old voice of the mysterious parasite sounded, you can take it again, well, it tastes really good.

Leonard's face fell, he reluctantly swallowed the cookie that looked like a puddle of dirt in his mouth, and reached for it again. He carefully stuffed it into his mouth and chewed it experimentally. The rich taste of milk and crisp texture conquered his taste buds, and the cookie was still warm. Leonard felt so happy that he couldn't help but echo the parasite's words: "Yes, Mrs. Sally's craftsmanship is really good... She is also very kind-hearted, and she always takes the initiative to give to Mary in the workhouse. Madam, please help..."

The other Nighthawks heard Leonard's whispers. Although they didn't notice anyone talking to Leonard, his words were consistent with the current situation, so they just thought he was talking to himself.

The parasite, the "thief" angel Pales, caught a word that interested him and asked in a guided manner: workhouse?

Yes, the workhouse is the one down the street from Tingen. Leonard did not doubt that he was there. When he saw Old Neil starting to distribute tea and coffee, he quickly raised his hand to ask for a cup. He heard that Mrs. Salister had been involved in an extraordinary incident and almost died accidentally. Fortunately, she got relief. The then-dean of the hospital treated her until the night watcher came to rescue her. Mrs. Salister was always worried that Old Neil would be in danger. Fortunately, Old Neil had always remained at Sequence 9, and he had no fighting ability. He was basically a safe civilian.

The one sponsored by the Ernst Charitable Foundation? Pales mused, how much do you know about this foundation?

ah? Isn't this an old foundation that has been established for more than a hundred years? Leonard paused while chewing the butter cake. He walked away with the water glass, became nervous, and asked in a low voice, Old man, is there something ulterior about it?

No, it's very nice there, I'm just asking casually.

Pales denied it flatly and stopped answering after saying this. Leonard was so curious that he scratched his head and said nothing.

15

In the early morning, I opened the letter sent by the editorial department. They expressed their satisfaction with the first draft of the drama script in polite words. Along with the letter came suggestions for revision and the remuneration for the previous manuscript. I put these dozens of pounds into my wallet and understood the modification suggestions in less than a second. Except for occasional logical flaws, most of them were problems with details, and the words needed more polish.

This reminds me of some experiences that I don’t want to recall, such as being urged by that child to change my honorary name over and over again, until I changed my honorary name so that no demonic element could be seen anymore.

"Change it again, Lord, this is not good for preaching."

“Do we have to add “bloodthirsty” and “disaster and killing”? "

"Please stop using the term "cold murderer" as a reference! "

"Lord, I think the first version is better..."

Exhausted physically and mentally. ...Especially when this child said at the end, "I wish you can find the light and humanity in your heart soon." I didn't have these things in my heart. They were all lost when I set foot on the Star Sea. The poison of human nature brings only betrayal and fear, being abandoned because of trust, perishing because of attachment, and dying in the mud because of virtue, just like the imperfect sun. I think this sentence is like wishing me a good morning. Like poisoning.

Finally, I made some designs on the honorific name, "The Monarch from the Deep Dark Land." The Deep Dark Land does not refer to the abyss, but to the starry sky. Thanks to the fact that the sequence one of the Demonic Path is called "Filthy King", even if I write the word "Lord" clearly here, the Seven Gods will only think that I am acting in advance, instead of thinking of the peaceful "Decay" outside the barrier. king".

And the phrase "the nature of withering" can directly point to me.

After all, I am the only path to "withering", and the same is true for "decline".

Someone reported to me that the Witch Cult had sent an application for cooperation. One of their key members was preparing for promotion and they hoped to have the opportunity to cooperate in the future. The dark saint who received the other party asked his allies, and the allies responded with gibberish, so the dark saint had to roll on the ground for ten minutes in the form of a fleshy ball with damaged internal organs and various severed limbs and eyeballs. However, his spirit is relatively tough. In other words, those who are not tough enough will not be able to survive in the Aurora Society for so long, let alone become a Sequence 4 Saint.

It took him two minutes to put himself back together and become a human again. He asked me in the eyes of the witch who hesitated to speak and hesitated to speak.

This is a privilege granted to me by my allies because of my identity as a "remnant of the old days" and my carefulness that has not made a mistake for a thousand years. I have the right to make decisions on His behalf when His mind is unclear about big or small matters.

I replied to Kesma: I can consider it. Then he sent the witch away.

Among the high-sequence "Shepherds" of the Aurora Society, there are a few people who are relatively fresh and refined. It seems that only half of their brains are broken, and the other half can be used for thinking. The Dark Saint Kosma is one of them. To be fair, I am just an angel on the devil's path now, leading a sect that is like a drag bottle. The Aurora Society has its own angels. In the eyes of the allies' believers, I am obviously not qualified to be compared with their great Lord, and am only qualified to be His subordinate. The Holy Word Angel Stephen is the representative of this group.

So I'm just glad there are still sane people in this place who could call out allies to do justice when Stiver challenged me and nearly beat me to death.

But it is troublesome to maintain this sequence all the time. I have been pretending to be an angel for more than 1,300 years. Although this is reasonable as a "demon", after all, it is a way to kill and set fire. The Seven Gods will not let me go.

My magic potion has also been digested. Although the ritual of two to one promotion is not the most perfect, it has already reached the standard. It has been dormant for long enough. It is time to find an opportunity to "promote" to sequence one. ...But Fabuti is still in the hands of the Mother Tree of Desire, carrying his only Sequence One characteristics and uniqueness, and the other Sequence One that my allies promised to help me find is still missing.

It is not feasible to switch to the "Prisoner" path. The "Bound God" is also at the Mother Tree of Desire. The sequence of robbing the "Godly Sin" Si'a is worse than eating my own ready-made inventory. In the end, I have no real idea of ​​becoming a god. , let alone becoming a true god or something, I am the old one myself. I just plan to find an opportunity to tear open the seal to find my remaining half of the source material, completely accommodate it, and gain the authority to turn everything into chaos.

But so far, I still haven't felt where the "sea of ​​flowers" is.

I put aside the prayers of the members of the Aurora Congregation and my own believers, and responded to a few selectively. The prayer contents were all relatively common. The typewriter on the table started working on its own, and I began to revise the manuscript.

16

This time, the Tarot Club started as normal. After completing the transaction for the "Mind Reader" formula, and using his time to diligently study mystical knowledge and receive praise from Miss Justice, "The Fool" Klein shifted his attention. I came to the few pages of Russell's diary in front of me.

On the yellow-brown parchment, the slightly twisted and arrogant Chinese writing reads:

"On August 5th, I saw the strength of high-sequence powerhouses. It was simply terrifying. They had undergone a qualitative change in a certain aspect and became like gods. No wonder they are called demigods and half-humans..."

"On August 6, the strange attitude of the seven major churches towards potions made me feel strange. ... There must be secrets I don't know about."

"On August 9th, what happened in the past two days makes me not feel very good. The industrial revolution that I started with my own hands, the era of steam and machinery that I created with my own hands, will become a hotbed for the evil god to come?"

"Another thing happened today that made me a little happy. My high-profile act of reproducing Earth's literature attracted a fellow countryman, well, maybe a foreigner is more appropriate. He found me in a mysterious way, There is no doubt that he is a high-sequence strongman. If he hadn't asked me at the beginning, "Do you want me to ask Alexandre Dumas for copyright fees?" I would have a better impression of him! Damn it, he didn't understand what I was saying at all, too much I was so embarrassed that I wanted to use the props to blow up a hole and bury myself on the spot."

Reprinting, Klein almost laughed out loud. It seems that Emperor Russell, the copycat, is still a little ashamed! You can completely imagine how embarrassing the scene was. I didn't expect that there were other time-travelers in this world, and I didn't know if I would have a chance to meet them. Although according to Russell's statement, the other party was not from the same country, Klein still had some vague expectations. His brows relaxed slightly, and his fingers gently tapped the edge of the long bronze table, attracting everyone. of attention.

High-sequence powerful people can live for a long time, but Emperor Russell has passed away. Is this time traveler really still alive?

Thinking of this, Klein's mood became slightly depressed again, and then the description of "the hotbed of the evil god's coming" caught his attention, but after thinking for a while to no avail, he gave up his plan to delve deeper and stopped tapping. The movements of the long bronze table say to the "Hanged Man", "Sun" and "Justice" in front of them: "You can communicate on your own."

"The Hanged Man" Alger immediately said:

"Mr. Fool, Miss Justice, I just got a piece of information. Hurricane Lieutenant General Qilingos infiltrated Backlund to complete a task. He will stay there for a long time for this purpose... "

TBC

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*It turns out that Qidian will also notify the number of readers? I was shocked. I tried posting it and people actually watched it. Thank you!

*Do you think I would think about how to save Old Neil? No, I did the opposite. In this world, Mrs. Salister was not dead at all. They spent more than thirty years of happiness.