The sin of wearing a crown

"If I said I thought he was talented, you wouldn't believe it."

A helpless wry smile appeared on Xin Chazan's dark face. He was wrongly accused by Lin En.

"No, I believe it." To his surprise, Linn confirmed his statement. "Mr. Worden is indeed talented, especially in acting."

When Lin En said this, his eyes did not stay on Xin Chazan. This is a diplomatic ambassador, not an extraordinary person. If someone is really arranging this series of coincidences, the difficulty and level of coincidence can only be To describe it as flawless, Sherlock couldn't compare to him.

More importantly, it makes absolutely no sense from a behavioral standpoint.

Therefore, this suspicion came and went quickly. The chat between Lin En and Xin Chazan was not only a basic suspicion, but also a kind of psychological comfort.

It's like shouting into the air: Hey, I spotted you.

If this was an absurd fantasy stage play, this would probably be an important scene. Xinchazan, who became famous overnight, just a few days later, faced another huge gap in his life when the spring breeze was coming. In a dramatic scene, the sheriff and law enforcement officers came knocking on the door.

When law enforcement comes to visit, no one can refuse.

Amidst the knocking on the door, a certain house owner who claimed to be a celebrity artist but had no real rights or strong background decided to let the barbarians outside the house wait for a while. This happened to be caught by a certain law enforcement officer's extraordinary hearing. , so Linn raised his boots and used his eyes beyond human eyes to capture the kicks and the shattering of the door panels, telling the owner inside what it means to give a warm welcome when visiting the house.

Faced with the fists of the sheriffs and the muzzles of guns that Lin En was swinging while strolling in the courtyard, these artists who maintained aristocratic demeanor and intended to be mighty and unyielding obediently raised their hands.

This scene made Linn's lips twitch.

I don’t know which gentleman said it, but artists always kneel down while shaking their fists at the government.

If they could hit the government on the head, it would mean that each of them would have to be a long-armed curly baboon, but this is obviously impossible.

At this moment, Lin En looked like a bully who destroyed literature. He looked indifferent with his hands behind his back. His expressionless face had a majesty that was not consistent with his age, as if he was an executioner who controlled life and death. It's not difficult to make this kind of expression, as long as you have enough time in the neighborhood committee office and face all kinds of impolite people from all walks of life every day. They can spit in your face, but the only thing you can do is retaliate. Even when the foreign workers are making things difficult for them, you can also make this businesslike and intimidating expression.

Commonly known as, in charge of the power of life and death.

Lin En is like an eagle owl. The black coat and top hat he wears today match perfectly. In his distant and inorganic eyes, every gentleman who is still clamoring to make country bumpkins look good is very sensible. He lowered his head, because there was a gentleman who was not that sensible. Within a few seconds of greeting the young gentleman with wild and obscene words, he had difficulty breathing and fell to his knees on the ground trembling with trembling.

Blood agitation not only speeds up blood flow, but also slows it down.

It's a comfort to use it to deal with ordinary people.

It is much easier to use than the blood curse plague, although it may leave some sequelae on the victim. Soon, Linn's swinging gun was pointed at a man whose life was like a dream, with ups and downs.

"We meet again, Mr. Worden."

As the law enforcers from the city took care of themselves, the town's police officers immediately pounced on him like wolves and tigers, pulled the chaff-like Worden up from the ground with iron arms, and treated him as if he were a criminal suspect. He was firmly sandwiched in the middle like a human being, so that one of them was a man.

"Lin, Lin Lin... Mr. Lin En? This is... this, this, this, me, me..."

Worden had no idea what was going on.

"Borrow a room on the spot." Lin En did not kindly help him answer his questions. Instead, he turned to the fat Sheriff and ordered him. He knew how to use the power in his hands when he was in working mode.

"yes."

The fat Sheriff, who had seen the extraordinary power of kicking a solid wooden door open with his kick, and felt the power of a shotgun flying to the head easily at close range, almost bit off his tongue and swallowed it, now treated this young man like a noble man. Order, you absolutely dare not neglect it.

If it can kick open a solid and thick wooden door, it can also easily kick open a person's head, just like a smashed watermelon.

really.

Lin En's angry kick just now, he added various BUFFs to himself, and the deterrent effect was extremely good. In fact, if Worden, who was listed as a criminal suspect, had chosen to run away after Linn kicked the door, then he would have seen what a terrifying pursuit speed is.

During the duration of the blessing, if Lin En is placed on the cold weapon battlefield, he will be defeated by ten thousand enemies.

Borrowing a room was very smooth and pleasant. After seeing Lin En's iconic elf-like face, the owner of the house cried and forgot about his motto of an artist not to succumb to power, and obediently cooperated with the law enforcement officer. Iron fist, no one wants the iron fist to fall on their head.

As for the matter of slandering and accusing him afterwards, the owner of the house who wanted to show off the country bumpkin did not hesitate to throw it into the trash can.

Russell family.

The words put together are enough to make any powerful figure in the non-oligarchic industry feel cold in their hands and feet and sweat all over, fearing that they will be targeted and die.

A temporary requisitioned room, or a temporary interrogation room.

Two tall and extremely excited country magistrates were lifting the trembling Worden up, and the bruises on his face proved what the unlucky guy had done with the magistrates before they started questioning. Intimate contact, what kind of retching, runny nose, tears, etc. price paid.

Lynn's attention was focused on the odds and ends on the table.

These were all he carefully searched from Woden's body. In addition to the wallet and tobacco keys, there was also a small box. The young gentleman picked up the box and opened it. Inside there were only ashes that looked like burned paper. He carefully released his spirituality and came into contact with the ashes.

Soon, a smile appeared on Linn's indifferent expression, and he looked up at Woden, whose face was full of panic.

"What is this?"

"Ashtray..." Speaking harshly is the instinct of every person who has done something wrong. Mr. Worden has calculated that, at least compared to before Linn traveled through time, he saw all kinds of people swearing, swearing on his mother, father, wife and little wife that he would never It was much better to find out that the high-intoxicating drug was not mine.

"Ashtray?" Lin En sneered and turned his head as if nothing had happened.

Soon, behind Linn, there was the sound of close contact between fists and flesh, as well as the whimpering screams of someone being stuffed back.