The Death Knell

Because it is generally an underground environment, air convection should not be obvious.

But when the girl finished painting the magic circle with black powder on the rooftop and presided over the spirit seance ceremony, an indescribable cold air rushed towards several people.

It seemed to exist, but also seemed not to exist, but when everyone raised their heads, they found that the raven had changed its expression and was looking at everyone numbly.

This is a typical case of attracting ghosts. Now others can ask questions about the soul, and the more powerful the caster is, the less able the soul is to resist or deny it.

The time cannot be too long, otherwise this magic will have an impact on the body. Bobo immediately asked the soul in the girl's body:

"Can you feel what's attracting you? It's a visceral attraction."

"sun..."

I don’t know how many years this brother has been a zombie. His accent is worse than that of a Mexican illegal immigrant. The simplest three-letter word suddenly revealed the taste of cumin.

But fortunately I can understand.

Bobo stepped aside a little and pointed to the white fireball hanging high in the sky behind everyone: "Is it this sun?"

"not cold..."

The soul of the anonymous zombie said that it was not this sun, but another sun, and it was also very cold.

The raven's expression immediately became ferocious, his eyes turned white and he twisted his body, looking very urgent.

"Strange answer, is there a way to mark this soul? We can follow him." Su Ming turned to ask Bobo.

He didn't hear much from the sun and the cold. This might be a clue, but it's not useful at the moment.

"Raven should have a way. In fact, as long as the soul is stamped with magic, the magician has many ways to find a ghost." Bobo gave an affirmative answer. He also frowned and thought about the problem: "But we should put this soul Withhold it for now, and then find a way to hand over the gold pen."

What Bobo meant was to mark the soul first, then go through the official channels of the city of refuge and hand over a pen that could be used as a medium, so that if another person casts a magic similar to summoning spirits, everyone could follow the clues.

"Darkness, you are too dark, but I want to do more."

Seeing Bobo reveal his plan, Su Ming immediately put the blame on the orangutan. He shook his head while suppressing a laugh and patted his shoulder, ready to start preparations.

.............................

At present, the people in the refuge city still think that the people above are collecting relics to reshape the historical past, and it is also because Aiwujiwu began to collect various ancient items.

But these things are useless in their hands, so this gold pen cannot be sold anywhere, but must be handed over to the officials of the underground refuge city.

How to contact the official? The answer is very simple, if you have any difficulties, just call the police.

Su Ming led Harley to act openly, while Bobo and Raven fell more than ten meters away as emergency secret backup. After getting ready, Deathstroke destroyed a street vending machine with the lightest force. machine.

Not only did some of the soda inside roll down, but also the crystals used as energy sources. The entire device sounded an alarm and emitted black smoke.

Soon a police car arrived. After getting out of the car, the police detective looked at the scene and was very polite:

"Sir, did you accidentally damage this vending machine?"

Su Ming, who was hugging Harley, looked arrogant: "No, officer, I just didn't like it, so I kicked it a few times."

Perhaps because they were all white and Su Ming's clothes were very good, the police officer was even smiling. He nodded while placing the order:

"I understand, sir. In fact, I sometimes want to kick coins when they are eaten, but I'm afraid you have to come with us and discuss compensation issues with the relevant companies."

"Let's drive. Since you are so polite, I will go to your little police station with my dear."

Su Ming had no choice but to go to the police station first, then let Zhuo Sha read a few brains, figure out the internal organizational structure of the dungeon, and then find the department that corresponded to the relic.

"Yes, I haven't been to the small police station yet, hehe!" Harley took the initiative and got directly into the back seat of the police car, patting the seat next to her to let Su Ming in.

The car driven by the transparent crystal fixed on the tail fin began to drive in the sun. The city outside the window also looked very beautiful, and the people on the street were coming and going in harmony.

It was Bobo who was chasing the car on stilts after a hard time, but Raven still had magic to help him.

.............

About half an hour later, Deathstroke and Harley walked out of the police station under the auspices of the police officers. If nothing else, you could tell what was going on just by seeing that almost everyone had a cigar in their hands.

Not to mention the procedures for handing in relics and how to get paid faster, they were even asked where the prophet lived.

As expected of a government agency, the people here know a lot of things. Su Ming now knows a little about things that should be known or things that he is not interested in knowing at all.

Of course, after all, these people are still low-level public officials. They definitely don't know many confidential things and they won't be able to answer them if asked.

Deathstroke took Harley and the backup to meet up, and found a dark alley without surveillance to tell the progress of his new intelligence.

"It turns out that the prophet turned into this white sun on the day the city was built."

Su Ming directly addressed the issue that Bobo least cared about, which is why people laughed and said nothing when Deathstroke asked for information before, because everyone indeed knew where the prophet was.

People are in heaven.

"Energy aggregate? But even Noah, who built Noah's Ark, didn't sacrifice his own thoughts." Bobo would only think from a dark perspective: "I didn't know that this prophet would sacrifice so righteously, maybe it was a cover-up. .”

"No one said he was dead. The official name is 'Eternal Life'." Su Ming looked at the fragments of sunshine in the alley, not far from his toes. He hinted: "This giant city is now controlled by the parliament. , and each member of Parliament may hear the voice and instructions from the Sun.”

Bobo understood, and his lips turned downward: "Okay, it's the shadow manipulator type behind the scenes again, but this time it's just a big ball of light. Have you asked about the relic?"

"After asking, there is indeed a secret agency that is eating various relics circulating on the market, but these mysterious people do not belong to the jurisdiction of any department. They come and go without a trace. Even the police do not know their identities. They only Know that they tend to show up with very high-level passes.”

Su Ming laughed. This reminded him of many similar settings, and he naturally had corresponding plans:

"But when it comes to the number of second-hand goods, I guess Batman doesn't have as many stocks as I do. In this way, I will be invisible for a while and come back soon."

He is going back to receive a batch of antique garbage produced by 40K Universe.

Is it an antique?

Of course, it was a product made during World War II. Su Ming watched it come off the assembly line with his own eyes. How could this be fake?

Because of the after-sales three-guarantee service, Wilson Enterprises also recycled a lot of goods returned by customers and threw them all in the warehouse. After all, it costs money to dispose of garbage, but the land is not used. It has been like this for decades.

But can these returned antiques summon the souls of the users who are closely connected with them?

Uh... Let's not even mention that it's not within a pluralistic system at all, even if it is, there's no point.

The souls of people who die in Marvel will first go to hell to be washed, and then taken away by death to arrange reincarnation.

To put it bluntly, judging from the death-seeking character of Americans, if those consumers skydived fast enough back then, they should be in the fifth game now, right?

So these things are destined to remain the tears of the times.