The Modern Age of the Mysterious

On the street, people saw the giant with a bear bone on his face approaching, and they fled in fright. No one heard the tall guy walking and humming "Old MacDonald Has a Farm".

A huge shadow loomed over Professor Sharon Mansfield, a woman who didn't pay any attention to the fearful and amazed eyes from people on the street.

Wherever she went, people scattered like frightened small mammals because of the super-sized body behind her, which is rare even among degenerates.

On the side of the road not far in front of her, there was a modified Benjamin long-wheelbase sedan parked, and a driver wearing round sunglasses was waiting by the side of the road. He was a too short old man, and the driver's cap could not be pressed down. Hair blown up on both sides.

Quickly, he opened the back door for Ms. Mansfield.

"Thank you, good evening." Sharon nodded. The degenerate climbed onto the trunk that was transformed into a seat on his own, and sat facing back on his seat, as well-behaved as a St. Bernard dog.

Sharon was about to get in the car when she straightened up again and turned her head.

A man in a gray suit stood not far away. Once again, he changed his old sloppy style, shaved his beard cleanly, and his hair was well combed. I'm afraid it's the president of the Quest Association, and it's rare to see a delicate appearance several times a year.

She suddenly restrained the maddening temperament on her body, her eyes with thick eyelashes blinked, and her eyes softened a little.

"Arthur."

"Sharon." The detective came over.

Explorers in New York City all know that this beautiful couple was not only a match made in heaven, but also teammates who explored the mystery together, the kind of partner that the Gunslinger called "Carteet". But they parted ways because of an indelible event, time passed, and each has its own story...

"Thank you," Arthur said. Arthur had contacted the former teammate before Sharon gave Rockefell clues. He vaguely saw the golden flames that gradually ignited in the lower city, and knew that the power was on his side. So he begged her to hold back, and she did—she knew the new **** was rising in the lower city, and could vaguely describe her. But she didn't say it.

Sharon's expression sank, and she turned away from him: "Don't make this request to me again—you know what I value."

She tried to make her voice sound cold, but found it difficult: "If I have to be your enemy next time, I won't miss the old feelings."

Arthur smiled, a rare smile that was no longer cynical: "Okay."

The degenerate, who had been sitting obediently in the seat, grabbed the edge and turned back: "Arthur..."

"Hello, good morning."

"Shut up," the archaeologist said, and the huge Good Morning had to shrink back.

Arthur took a light breath and said, "I'm here to say goodbye—in about a month, I'm going to go abroad. This time, I'm afraid it will turn upside down..."

Sharon turned her head in surprise, and she heard the implied mood in his words: "You're uneasy—what makes you uneasy?"

Arthur smiled wryly and didn't answer.

She sighed. She has long been vaguely aware of the coming upheaval, but due to the boundaries of her functions, she does not have as strong an intuition as Arthur. However, the detective came to say goodbye specially for a trip abroad.

"Be careful," she whispered before getting into the car.

The car drove away, and the degenerate waved goodbye to Arthur from behind.

Arthur chuckled and waved. When the car turned the corner and disappeared, he was still staring in that direction, and after a long time he pressed his hat and walked into the stream of people.

·

The ancient silver coin tossed by the **** of death swirled in the air, and finally fell into the grain of wheat on the ground.

Cinderella, who had reached her limit, looked with her head. The silver coin reflected light on the surface, and the silver swayed. She couldn't tell whether it was head up or words.

So be it. At that moment, she didn't even care whether death would take her soul away. In order to resist the tyranny imposed on her by that person, she did everything she could. Maybe that's enough.

Now she opened her eyes again. There is a crystal chandelier in front of him, which is constantly shining. The room was very quiet, so quiet that she could hear her own heartbeat, so that she could know that she was not in the residence of the **** of death. The mask of the undead agent is still on his face.

She sat up, feeling more relaxed than ever. She sensed the existence of Taro, and at this moment she was pleasantly surprised to find that the existence that weighed on her heart like a burden had disappeared.

The injustice Spring God has left. Her fifteen-year-long revenge has finally come to fruition.

But she was not as excited as she had imagined, and she sat blankly in this house where she did not know where it was. A moment later, she tried to shake the cards, only to find that the spiritual web that stretched almost all over Newlander was cut off here.

"You're awake." She suddenly heard a voice while still perceiving the room, turned around, and saw the smiling man standing in front of her.

"Taro has left. Both of your teammates are safe and in this place.

"Now the whole city is searching, I suggest you stay here for a few days and leave until the limelight passes."

Cinderella nodded slightly. She was still in a trance and couldn't even tell if she was dreaming at the moment.

The Laughing Man is only King level, he actually defeated Taro in the secret vault...

How did he do it?

"Mr. Laughing Man." Sean turned to leave and heard the undead agent whisper, so he manipulated Shawshank's body to turn back.

On the yellowed skull mask, the originally bright inscription had dimmed. The tired explorer raised his right hand and gave a face salute to his face. The strange and thick voice faded, and what Sean could hear at the moment was a female voice. The voice was monotonous and cold, and it seemed that he was not good at expressing his feelings: "Mr. Laughing Man, you have fulfilled my greatest long-cherished wish.

"As an explorer, I promise to serve you."

"Have a good rest." The smiling man walked out the door.

·

To Sean's surprise, after Ms. Tarot left, there was no turmoil in New York City. Except for the spontaneous memorial service of people in Xiacheng that day, the days after the incident were surprisingly quiet.

At the Yunding Reception, Rockfield, Morgan and others, they seemed to have decided to swallow the bitter fruit quietly. They suffered huge losses without revenge, not even a voice.

But Sean wasn't happy about it—their silence was premeditated. Those old foxes must be brewing something scarier than violent raids and revenge.

In order to deal with it, he made the safest move he could make: he asked all his 200 believers in the New Testament city to remain silent, not to preach in the near future, not to assemble, or even to talk at midnight. Guaranteed top secret.

At this time, Ms. Hershey must not be exposed.

Fortunately, Sean has not been informed of the news that the Yundian Reception will search for Yefeng Faith.

The scale of Sean's divine power is getting bigger and bigger. Considering the many expenses to be fed, he first expanded the production of Spirit Medicine Mist. Mr. Newfen presided over this mysterious divine product trade, the production capacity has been expanded to 800 bottles per month~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Sean's unfunded trade, now brings him a monthly income of 4,800 yuan.

Under the leadership of the Ugly Lion, the "Evening Lighthouse" still grew steadily. The daily sales of "Evening News" exceeded the 40,000 mark, and at a slow speed, it was marching towards the 50,000 club with considerable influence...

High-quality advertisers have poured into the newspaper, and Sean's monthly income has exceeded 7,000 New Zealand dollars.

With his income increasing day by day, he decided to do a few things that had been planned for a long time.

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