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Chapter 89 The Haunted House

"What's your name?" Dong Chen, who was sitting in the gangster's lair with a golden sword, asked softly, leaning on the cross sword he took off the wall.

"Obama, boss, my name is Obama." Although I don't know what the boss means, but since those non-human monsters called him that, the thoughtful Obama naturally followed suit.

"Oh...Obama, what a weird name. Forget it, your sword?"

The dark red sword with a blood-like blade was pointed directly at his throat. Obama's already pale face turned even whiter: "Boss, you'd better not use this sword. It's an ominous sword."

"Ominous sword?" Dongchen became interested.

"Can you please take it away first?" Obama was so frightened that he almost cried.

Keng Lang sheathed the sword and played with the cross sword, which was about the same length as the Alpha alloy sword but only a quarter as thick as it was. Dongchen raised his hand to signal Obama to explain.

"Its name is Deinslev, and there seems to be some allusion to it."

Looking up at Obama who was constantly wiping his sweat, Dongchen stroked the classic smooth scabbard with only minimal decoration and said lightly: "Tell me."

"I...I don't know." Obama grinned awkwardly: "This sword...I dug this sword out."

"Dig it?"

"It was dug. It was dug from the graveyard."

His loving expression froze, and Obama looked at Dongchen who suddenly changed his color, and the cold sweat that had just stopped broke out again.

"Why dig it up from the grave?"

"Zhenxie." Obama looked around at this luxurious villa full of aristocratic atmosphere, and said with dry lips: "Boss, you should be able to see that with my status, it is impossible to own such a villa."

Gardens, pools, rockeries, halls, two-story villas, close to the mountains and the sea, the location is excellent. Along the way, it is lush, quiet and elegant, and the details inside are all classic.

Such a house is indeed not something that a gangster like Obama can own.

Dongchen lifted the sword playfully, twirled his fingers with a smile, and signaled Obama with his eyes to continue explaining.

Obama looked at the sword in fear, then looked at Dongchen in fear, and said in a dry tone: "This villa is haunted, and many important people who did not believe in evil have lived here. But no matter how awesome people are, they will die and disappear within half a year.

The better ones can leave a complete body, but the worse ones don’t even have a body, and even the news can’t be spread.”

"Then you still dare to live here?"

"Isn't this...isn't it there?" Obama pointed at the sword brilliantly: "If a gangster wants to be famous, he has to do something famous. I can get to this point today, with this ghost house and this knife.

The evil sword plays a big role."

Evil Sword Matches the Ghost House, Dongchen Matches the Server and looks at Obama: "Sit down."

A simple word, which was regarded as acknowledgment of identity, Obama happily sat down with half his buttocks. Although he usually fell into the soft velvet chair, he did not dare in front of Dongchen.

"Tell me about this sword and this house." Dongchen certainly doesn't want any accidents to happen if he wants to live here for half a year. It's better to figure out such weird things first.

"Yes, I'll tell you right now." Obama nodded again and again, leaning forward slightly, looking at the cross sword with a complicated expression: "This sword is called Dainslev, and its original owner is dead.

Light. People said that this sword was responsible for the harm. Later, many people used it, but they all died. So people buried the sword under the church bell and pressed it with the sound of the bell every day."

Carefully glancing at Dongchen, whose expression remained unchanged, Obama continued to explain anxiously: "I don't know much about the specifics of this sword. I only know that this sword hurts people but never heals. It is an evil sword."

"Wounds healed?" The sword was drawn out with a clang, and the dark red sword blade was crossed in front of his eyes. Dongchen looked carefully and found nothing special. Dongchen looked at Obama suspiciously: "This sword is really what you said.

evil?"

"It's true, not false." Obama said with absolute certainty.

Whoosh!

Bright red blood flowers floated up little by little.

His eyes suddenly opened, his mouth opened to the limit, and his little tongue could even be clearly seen: "You...you..."

Pointing tremblingly at Dongchen, who was stroking the blade of the sword with his hand, Obama shrieked in horror and retreated, shrinking into his chair: "You don't want your life?"

"What's going on?" Christina walked down from the roof and looked at the hall strangely.

"He...he was injured by the evil sword. He is finished, he is dead." The chair overturned, and Obama, who was speechless, rolled and crawled backwards, fearing that Dongchen, who suddenly went crazy, would not be able to think about it.

Give it to him too.

"Don't listen to his nonsense." He turned sideways with a smile and clenched his scratched left hand hard. The blue light enveloped the entire fist. After a while, there was no more blood in the bleeding wound.

"You can't make people feel more at ease. Why are you cutting yourself off? What a waste of money." She walked down the stairs charmingly, took Dongchen's blood-stained hand and spit out her sweet tongue, greedily going back and forth, Christina nodded comfortably.

Shivered: "Put more in the evening, I'm hungry."

"My... my code... ghost!" Obama stood up in alarm and turned around and ran away.

The scars scratched by the evil sword healed on their own without medicine, the woman he loved actually liked to drink blood, and the gangster leader suddenly felt that his world was falling apart and ran towards the door desperately.

Unfortunately, before he could even take two steps, he felt a tightness on the back of his neck. When he regained consciousness, he had already fallen at Dongchen's feet.

"Run again and you'll never have to run again."

The cold voice was like cold water pouring down on his head in the cold winter. Obama nodded wildly and trembled: "Ghost...ghost...old...boss, I won't run away, I promise not to run away." Seeing Dongchen, he narrowed his eyes.

, Obama quickly changed his title in a trembling voice, hating Red Nose in his heart: "You are a bastard who can kill a thousand people, if I don't die this time, you will die."

Sitting back on the chair with Christina's plump body in his arms, Dongchen leaned on his sword and banged it on the ground: "Put aside the sword thing for now, let's talk about this house."

"This...this house, he, he is making trouble..."

The sound of rushing footsteps interrupted Obama's explanation. Avril appeared at the top of the stairs panting heavily: "Ann...Anne is missing."

There was a crack of thunder, bright white lightning pierced the night sky, and heavy rain started to fall at any time.

Stepping on the raindrops, Bao Bao walked up to Avril. Dongchen stared at the anxious woman, knowing in his heart that there was no way she could do anything to Anne. Although Avril usually did not deal with Anne, but in

Among the team, the elf actually likes Annie the most, which is why Christina gave Annie to her.

But now Annie is missing.

In such a huge villa, it is too easy to hide someone, Anne...

"Where do you want to go?"

The cold and biting voice was accompanied by the thunderous thunder, which made Obama stiffen as he wanted to sneak away. He turned around trembling with cold sweat: "I...I want to go to the bathroom."

"If you can't find Annie, you can't go anywhere." The blue soul mark on his left hand lit up, and the claws of the void ghost flew out of the air, grabbed Obama's chest and lifted him into the air: "Before this evening, find me

If you don't get Anne, you're dead."


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