That 'flesh and blood believer' was able to sneak into the room silently and attack him, so there was no doubt that it was the work of the other party.
The other party should be the one who could quickly deal with Mrs. Burns and kill the housekeeper.
And now?
The other party should be a ‘fisherman’!
Morey, who had dealt a fatal blow to the 'son of flesh and blood', could no longer stand still.
For the other party, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
As for him?
I'm afraid the other party won't take it seriously!
Goethe took a deep breath and began to reload the revolver.
He hopes that the other party will not take him seriously.
Because, only in this way can he have a chance of survival!
His trump card...
There is one more!
You only get one chance!
Goethe stood holding his breath with two guns in hand, while Morey leaned against the wall, trying not to fall. At the same time, a revolver appeared in the hands of the official person responsible for the extraordinary.
Most of the time, Morey would not use this revolver.
For 'extraordinary people', extraordinary abilities are far more useful than gunpowder weapons.
And when an 'extraordinary' starts to use gunpowder weapons, it means that he is at the end of his rope.
Of course, it could also be a trap.
Breathlessly, Morey hoped it was the latter.
But unfortunately, he is the former.
In fact, just the simple action of drawing and holding a gun made Morey feel his eyes go dark.
He was already seriously injured, but the blow that he had just exhausted all his strength had already made him more injured.
Now, I'm afraid he can't even pull the trigger.
Thinking of this, the official person in charge of extraordinary things showed a wry smile.
He looked at Goethe with even more apologetic eyes.
It really shouldn't be allowed for a young man with a bright future to die here with him.
If he could discover the "Predation Team" of the "Flesh Church" in advance.
If his battle with the 'Mist Killer' could be more decisive.
if……
There are not so many ifs!
Reality is always cruel!
"Feel sorry."
"I'm hurting you."
Morey apologized softly.
"unnecessary."
"I was involved in it."
"He chose it."
Goethe said, looking towards the thick fog outside the door.
The rolling mist is like a tide,
Gray fills the surrounding area, enveloping the entire house.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
The air was filled with invisible pressure, and as the thick fog spread inch by inch, it pressed towards Goethe and Morey.
Like mountains.
Like an abyss.
‘Mist Killer’ is quite cautious.
Just because the situation is good, we don't care about it.
This made Goethe's heart sink.
The more cautious the other party is, the worse it will be for him.
Soon, thick fog flooded the corridor and was about to enter the hall.
Goethe stood in the hall and gently licked his dry lips.
Morey tried to stand up straight.
Just when the two sides were about to get into trouble, the sound of horse-drawn carriages suddenly sounded, and three police carriages with lanterns on, carrying a group of heavily armed patrol officers, came towards Fevri No. 11.
"Goethe? Goethe?"
"I am coming!"
Swart, who was sitting in the first carriage, stuck out his head and shouted.
Immediately, the thick fog that was about to rush into the living room retreated directly.
Then, it disappeared.
The ‘Mist Killer’ is gone!
Goethe and Morey looked at each other and felt relieved.
Both of them felt like they were surviving a disaster.
There is no doubt that the injuries of the 'Slaughterer in the Fog' were more serious than imagined. Facing him as an 'ordinary person' and the seriously injured Morey, both hesitated. When another group of ordinary people with weapons appeared,
But he retreated without hesitation.
thump.
Morey, who had been standing upright just now, sat directly on the ground.
The official person responsible for extraordinary things has reached his limit.
But Goethe still stood with his gun.
Even when Swart walked in, Goethe did not put down his gun.
"Don't shoot, it's me!"
Swart shouted loudly, and after seeing that Goethe was not moved at all, he immediately thought of something.
"Secret code! By the way, secret code!"
"It seems like..."
"Beer, skewers, crayfish!"
The sergeant thought for a moment and then blurted out.
“What does crayfish taste like?”
Goethe continued to ask.
Immediately, the police chief was stunned.
"You didn't tell me what it tasted like?"
Swart looked at Goethe in confusion.
Then, Goethe put down the gun aimed at Swart, nodded at Morey, who was paying attention, and said: "It's true."
“Nice test.”
Morey said this.
On weekdays, he likes to use the 'identification pocket watch', even though it has some side effects, it is really convenient.
But now after seeing Goethe's method, he suddenly wondered, had he relied too much on the 'secret treasure'?
However, immediately, this complex and extraordinary official shook his head.
He has become accustomed to this convenience.
It's hard to correct.
Struggling to support his body, Morey stood up again.
"Chief Swart, thank you for your support."
"I will report your achievements truthfully."
Morey said formally.
After hearing Morey's words, Swart almost jumped for joy.
What is he here for?
Isn’t it just for merit?
And the achievements reported by a big shot like Morey are naturally the most eye-catching.
Swart seemed to have already seen himself becoming the director.
However, the police chief has not forgotten what he should do most now.
Snap!
Swart salutes Morey.
"This is what I should do!"
"Do you want me to call a doctor for you?"
Swart asked with solicitude.
"No need."
"I have a potion here."
"Chief Swart wants your men to guard here until noon tomorrow."
Morey said this.
Swart immediately saluted again.
"Your order, my mission."
The sergeant followed Morey's orders meticulously.
Seeing Swart's extremely flattering appearance, Goethe didn't feel any disdain.
Except for some real "saints", people like Swart who are willing to take benefits and work hard are already pretty good.
Most people are people who just take benefits and do nothing.
