The sound of heavy leather boots could be heard in the mottled night. Soldiers held high torches and surrounded the streets and alleys of the West District. The flames illuminated the figures swaying one after another.
The sleeping residents woke up one after another, opened their windows, and looked out into the street.
"Surprise night inspection! Everyone opens the door immediately, stays where they are, and is strictly prohibited from going out!" Starting from the first tavern on the street, the soldiers opened the doors from house to house and filed in. Several crocodile-headed hounds followed them.
His neck was hard and scaly, his pupils seemed to be glowing with green fire, and his throat made a low gurgling sound.
"These stinky shit stick to your feet and can't be shaken off." In the darkness, Freckles cursed in a low voice and swallowed the half-bitten meat pancake whole.
"In about half an hour, they will find out here." Gordon put his head in front of the wooden window, squinting and looking out through the gap. The street entrance was brightly lit and was tightly blocked by heavily armed Shahu tribe soldiers.
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At this time, a full ten days had passed since he killed Jinya. Gordon also regained contact with Freckles. Freckles' injury was not serious, but the broken toe bone caused difficulty in movement. For chasing the black baboon, Freckles had a look on his face.
He looked indifferent, but Gordon could still hear the reluctance from his slightly hurried tone.
"That's not too late, half an hour is enough for me to have a big meal." Freckles reached into the open cupboard, rummaged out a cold leg of lamb condensed with white oil, and started chewing it hungrily.
This is the kitchen of a restaurant. They sneaked in in the middle of the night, looking for food. Unluckily, they happened to run into a night inspection.
Recently, the channels for obtaining food in Crescent City have been strictly controlled. Major restaurants, bars, and hotels have begun to record the share of food expenditures every day, and the purchasers are registered one by one for the security team to inquire. The same goes for private residences. Once civilians find out about their homes,
If there is less food, we will report it immediately.
"The rumors are getting tighter these days. Anyone with a foreigner's face will be searched and interrogated. If they disagree, they will be sent to prison. The Storm Horse Thieves want to force us out of Crescent City and take advantage of horse warfare.
Kill us in the wild." Gordon turned around and glanced at the flour bags in the corner, the cupboards filled with dishes, the stove blackened by smoke, and the bacon sausages hanging on the beams... He started from the wall-mounted
He picked up a can of water from the wooden stand, poured it into the water bag he carried, and took off two bacon sausages to chew.
The weather in the desert is hot, and food left overnight can easily go rancid, so you can't take it with you to stock up.
"That group of horse thieves are not too stupid. I thought the thieves' brains were full of shit. Let's endure it for the next few days and avoid the limelight before we can play slowly with them." Freckles chewed three pieces of it in a peculiar way.
He chewed the entire lamb leg in two bites, then grabbed a bowl of milky white cheese and poured it into his mouth.
"Looking at their momentum, they won't stop until they turn this area upside down. There are more and more interrogations, curfews, and night inspections, and I won't be able to stay in the warehouse where I'm hiding." Gordon glanced at Freckles Flat.
The unchanged belly is worthy of being the descendant of Qi Ya. He even has a unique secret method for eating. More than ten kilograms of food seems to be stored in a mysterious part of Freckles' body, like a camel's hump, which can provide nutrients in times of famine.
"That's true." Freckles muttered, "I originally killed a minor gang member and hid in his house, but I was found the next day."
Gordon said: "The most troublesome thing is the problem of defecation and urination. It can't be done in the warehouse or outside. The only way is to endure it during the day and go into other people's homes at night to solve it."
"I'm eating, you pervert!" Freckles swallowed the last piece of cheese and wiped his greasy fingers on Gordon's body. Both of them changed their make-up and wore local robes and headscarves.
With wrinkles and a white beard, he disguises himself as an old man.
1000
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"They have already searched the street next door. We still have about ten minutes. Sorry, I'm too late. I have to solve it." Gordon calmly unbuttoned his pants while observing the movements on the street.
"Here?" Freckles cried.
"For assassins, it's the same everywhere." Gordon lifted up the hem of his robe and squatted down calmly, his movements natural and smooth.
"You bastard, pervert! You must have done it on purpose!" Freckles covered his mouth and nose tightly, it was really disgusting.
Gordon always stared out the window: "I never do boring things."
Freckles rolled his eyes and said angrily: "I'm a little worried about Hongmao. That guy talks nonsense all day long and has no brains. It would be bad if he conflicts with the soldiers."
Gordon said calmly: "He has to learn to get used to it. We are all the same. No one can look after each other for a lifetime."
"Tch, I can't stand your way of pretending to be an uncle. Hey, let me ask you, if one day in the future you have a fierce conflict with a few of us, will you kill us?" Freckles stared at Gordon's profile.
, eyes as sharp as ice.
Gordon pondered for a while: "I can't answer the future. But I think I will definitely avoid conflicts. A truly smart person can always avoid conflicts and obtain benefits from another way."
"Damn, you said it, but you didn't say it!" Freckles said angrily, but his eyes softened. Although the ghoul is perverted, he is trustworthy.
"They are coming, we have three minutes." Gordon stood up and prepared to evacuate.
Freckles stared at the clean ground, and let go of the hand covering his mouth and nose: "You bastard, you are tricking me! Didn't you say you won't do boring things?"
"Because I don't think this is boring at all." Gordon glanced at the greasy finger prints on his robe and smiled, "I'm just practicing fake moves."
"You pervert are completely untrustworthy." Freckles gritted his teeth and looked out the window. "Your injuries are too serious. I'll distract them. I'll contact you in a week."
Gordon watched Freckles running out of the kitchen and walking through the narrow corridor. Then he heard a loud "bang".
c44
There was a loud noise, and Freckles slammed open the back door of the restaurant.
"You bitches, come after me if you can, just follow me and eat shit!" Freckles climbed onto the roof, shouting provocatively, and ran away quickly.
Several crocodile-headed hounds took the lead in barking, and the soldiers rushed over after hearing the news, shouting: "Someone has escaped, chase him quickly!" "He must be a wanted criminal. If you catch him, you will get a hundred gold coins!"
The rapid sound of the horn resounded through the night sky, and the soldiers had no time to search other houses. They ran over one after another. Under the leadership of the alligator-headed hounds, they surrounded and intercepted the freckles from various streets and alleys. Many soldiers climbed onto the roof, and some took off their backs.
The bows and arrows that were drawn were fired, and some raised their swords and rushed to catch up.
The noise gradually faded away, and Gordon quietly sneaked out of the front door of the restaurant, using the shadow of the house wall to slip away in the opposite direction. He did not dare to go too fast, so as not to involve his wounds.
It was already difficult to hide in the civilian area. He had to move his residence and find another place. Maybe a rich man's mansion in the Garden District would work, or...
Gordon caught a glimpse of the towering gray-white tower of the Temple of God in the distance, and his heart suddenly moved. Which place in Crescent City is safer than the temple right now?