The Legend of Fatality

Bai En never thought that he would be followed by others, especially as a victim. But this may be the case in this world. Many people will call this kind of thing destiny, but in Bai En's view, this is nothing more than pure maliciousness in the nature of the world.

"Fatlin Association." Major Fernandez-Calder said.

"Yes." Eichmann replied, looking down at the report he had written.

"Never heard of this organization."

"It's a shame, that's true." Eichenmann sat stiffly in his seat, his fingers forming a minaret in front of him. His serious rhomboid face was tight as always. The report lay on the large oak desk in front of him, letting it roll.

On the other side of the oak desk is Calder, he is a senior officer in the temple of Rilmas Gaitan, and he is also a diplomat of the great empire Gaitan.

His room is as cold, old and obscure as its owner. He has a garlic-nosed head filled with blood, and his hands often tremble unconsciously, which is caused by his long-term hobby. The various colors of liquid in a crystal bottle on a low table not far away prove this.

However, when you face him, it is hard to believe that alcohol has damaged his nerves. His eyes were deeply embedded under the prominent feather-shaped eyebrows, exposing his inner tenacity and wisdom brought by old age.

"Do you have any further information?" Calder asked with interest, leaving the report intact in front of him.

"Yes." Eichmann said seriously. "One of the crew told me that several of their crew were missing. Some people, such as the mage Bai En, I arranged for people to monitor."

Calder pursed his lips, which were cracked by dryness, and when he reached for the silver plate beside him, his arthritis fingers shivered.

"What the **** do you suspect?" He asked, his fingers picking a shrivelled grape from the bowl.

"Worship the evil power. I do n’t know what type it is, but there are trades of prohibited items. Bai En has blood stains left in the tavern room-I think it ’s human blood-we could n’t measure it accurately, but the blood stain range Not small."

"It's all a small problem, Bigan."

"Really." Eichmann said. "But I don't want to see it develop."

Calder stuffed the grapes into his mouth and chewed slowly, feeling the taste.

"Does your follower still have that person?"

"Ryan Ador, my team member, yes."

"I do not like him."

"No one likes him. This is the key to the problem."

Calder swallowed. This action made him look painful. The old man had to work hard to move his body forward on the chair and put his hands on the desk.

"Listen to me." He said, staring at Eichmann with his gloomy eyes. "This is a difficult day. Al-Urik is watching everything. The people here will use any excuse to weaken us. This is not our country-you have to be careful."

"I always act carefully." Eichmann said motionlessly.

"You, yes. Just tie the dog. If not enough, add a leash. Don't cause me trouble. If this matter involves a decent person, I can't stand it."

"Is this the problem?" Eichmann said coldly. "What are the consequences?"

Calder gave him a tired look. "If we need to solve someone, we will solve him. But do it secretly."

"I get it." Eichmann said, standing up and bowing. "So, did you allow me to investigate?"

"Of course, as usual." Calder looked at him intently. After a while, his mottled face full of age spots became milder. "How long have you taken a break recently?"

"I ... enough." Eichmann said hesitantly.

"You need more rest. You look terrible, there is no vitality in your eyes, your hair is turning gray. This should not happen, it should not happen at your age."

"I feel great."

"You don't look like it," Calder said. "I'm serious, man-relax. Give the task to your assistant. Maybe you don't need to spend so much time on these guys. I mean, evil never rests, but we are not. If you have anything Things, or something upset you, you should tell me. "

"Sir, this is a good suggestion," he said without expression. "If I have any ideas, I will definitely come to you."

"You must do this." Calder shook his head helplessly and reached for another grape. "I wish you good luck, you have to be cautious and not risky."

Eichmann stood up from his chair, stood upright, and saluted.

"Thank you, sir. But, really, there is no luck here-it's all in" The Legacy of Gaitan ", yes or no. So your wish is good, but it doesn't matter."

"Of course," Calder rolled his eyes and said, "You are right, Eichmann. You are always right. Now leave my office and leave me alone."

Eichmann left the major's room, and the two torches on the wall outside the door were interrupted by the figure standing in the distance. Renne stood tall above the silhouette formed by the firelight.

Acherman wore a long leather jacket that all his companions liked, and the broad side of the hat covered his eyes low. Two flint pistols snuggled around his waist, and each one was engraved with the passage from the Sacred Book of Gaitan, and also shone with the light of holy water.

"What have they done?" He asked.

"Meet an orphaned priest who took orphans, and whipped a few beggars." Ren said, he looked a little sleepy and half awake.

"Pastor? I don't understand."

"A Grenier priest, taking in some orphans in Mouse Lane. There is nothing special about it." Ren rubbed his face, and when he massaged his face with leather gloves, his flat nose was red.

Ryan is much taller than his master ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ is also much wider. He has a bare head and is covered with old scars like delicate patterns. A long-handled iron hammer hung around his waist, sandwiched by a broad-bladed short sword. His nose was interrupted more than once, and one eye could never be fully opened, giving him an expression of suspicion.

The two passed the empty building, which was tall and gloomy. The brick walls are covered with tiles, and the plaster paints the entire wall, with wooden protrusions at the top, and the crumbling tower and circular dome at the top. The lintels of the houses protruded their heads from the narrow alleys, blocking the moon ’s light and immersing the earth, straw and pebbles in deep shadows. Some streets have never even seen sunlight, and in the middle of the night, they are dark abyss.

A loud noise came from the direction of the distant campfire, and the screams of excitement became blurred and low. Eichenmann moved flexibly in the shadows, while Rennes tried not to think about the cheap beer in the pub barrel.

The witch hunter suddenly stopped and crouched beside a heavy metal drain cover. He took out a string of jingling keys and began to sort them out.

"Really?" Ryan looked at the lid hesitantly. "Go below?"

"I'm afraid this is the case." Eichenman nodded. "This way it leads to the wine cellar under the" Bone and Wine "tavern."

"Always wine cellar." Rennes exhaled deeply.

"Do you think they will realize that the entire city is built on drainage tunnels?" Eichmann inserted a key into the keyhole and unscrewed the lock with a harsh voice. He grabbed the edge of the lid with both hands and pulled it up, and it remained in place.

"Stuck, sir?" Ryan bent down, grabbed the edge of the lid, grunted, and pulled it out. The following smelly, he wrinkled his face in disgust.