Pope St. Martin Carol Ramon sat quietly in his confessional behind the altar, a habit he had for decades to confess to St. Peter every night. Pen ~ fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info was surprisingly cold tonight, but there was no fire or heating equipment in the house. This is also what the Pope demands! A life of luxury and debauchery does not allow people to reflect and repent.

Pope St. Martin took off his robe, his upper body was naked, and his skin was covered with folds, which are the traces of time and also represent wisdom. St. Martin struck a spirit, trembled and fell to his knees, recited a prayer to the portrait of St. Peter hanging on the wall, then took the whip from the table and struck himself fiercely.

The sound of the whip touching skin was unusually loud in this humble confessional house. Pope St. Martin's back is covered with criss-crossing scars, the result of years of penance. The Pope whipped himself as he muttered: "Great Lord, forgive me for being greedy for life and fear of death, forgive me for being a coward and thief." ”

Just as Pope St. Martin was confessing, the door to the confessional suddenly opened. The Pope was taken aback, it was impossible for anyone to be here at this time. He looked back and it was the new Cardinal Bruce Wesley. Pope St. Martin stopped the whipping in his hand, and he struggled to get up from the ground, his knees numb because he had been kneeling for so long.

"You, why are you here?" said St. Martin, who was clothed and whose hand with the whip trembled uncontrollably.

Bruce had a strange smile on his face, his eyes were not looking at the Pope, but staring at the portrait of St. Peter, kneeling on the ground, and said, "Lord, please forgive me for all my crimes, I am doing this for the Church!" After speaking, he stood up, and Pope St. Martin was even more puzzled.

"Why are you here?

Bruce didn't answer the question, laughed and walked around the room, playing with the teacup that had been on the only table in the room for a while, and threw it on the floor, shattering with a thud. Pope San Martin looked at the guy in amazement, wondering what he was trying to do.

"What are you going to do, and why are you here?" he asked again.

Bruce snorted, raised his eyes, looked at the Pope, and then said: "Your Majesty, I have always had a doubt, and after so many years, I still haven't found the answer. He slid his fingers lightly across the table, leaving a long trail, and Bruce flicked the dust off his fingers and said, "Every late at night, I ask myself, and likewise St. Peter, Great Lord, what is the meaning of our life?"

Pope St. Martin frowned, his old cold legs and arthritis were compromised by his long standing, he staggered against the wall, and a cold attack hit the wound, and St. Martin gasped and choked on the dust and coughed violently.

"It didn't dawn on me until that day, when a group of you voted to decide who would be the reaper. It dawned on me that we, like the lambs and cowboys in the pasture, were just food for the master who was high above us. We receive milk and meat from the lamb, and at the same time we offer our own flesh and blood to the harvester. Tsk, don't you think that's a very interesting thing to do?"

At the mention of that vote, Pope St. Martin fell to his knees and confessed to the portrait of St. Peter.

Seeing the Pope like this, Bruce Wesley sneered and said, "So, what is the purpose of our existence? Do we become the lamb to the slaughter of the harvesters, or dedicate our lives to St. Peter? This is really a difficult choice!" Bruce walked to Pope St. Martin's side, squatted down, and grabbed the Pope's clothes, their faces were less than a fist apart, "Your Majesty, are you really willing to dedicate your life to St. Peter?" Bruce said, pointing to the portrait on the wall.

Pope St. Martin was taken aback by Bruce's crazy behavior and eyes, and looked at Bruce's finger, and St. Peter in the portrait looked into the distance, his eyes were resolute and full of faith, as if to say, the light is ahead, everyone follow me! Bruce let go of him, and St. Martin fell to the ground, tears dripping into the dust.

"You didn't," Bruce said, standing up, "you abandoned St. Peter and gave your life and meaning to the harvester." Bruce shook his head and sneered disdainfully, "You don't deserve to be the Pope!"

"But I ...... it at the beginning"

"It's just a small test for you, and you've backed down!" Bruce said with a smile.

"Mins Verlock Yael!" Pope San Martin understood, his eyes filled with remorse, "Yarle," and suddenly burst out laughing, "Yael, my old fellow!" the Pope spat out a mouthful of blood, only to feel a burning pain in his back. His gaze fell on the horsewhip, and his pupils gradually dilated.

Bruce sighed, took a horsewhip from his waist and placed it on the table, putting away the one that the Pope had been looking at before he died. Bruce closed the door and left. When he reached the lobby of the altar, Mins Villa Yael was standing in front of the statue of St. Peter in a daze.

"It's all done!"

Mins Willow Yael glanced at the confessional, then closed his eyes and drew a prayer symbol on his chest.

Bruce left the altar and walked around St. Peter's Basilica to St. Peter's Square. About 100,000 demonstrators gathered in the square, and a few days ago the crowd had reached more than 300,000. Just yesterday at noon, after the crown prince published his guilty book, half of the devout sect members left, and there were some people arranged by the big family or good deeds left.

Everything was going according to plan, and Bruce knew his time was coming. He stood on the edge of the square and was quickly recognized by people nearby. Everyone rushed forward and kissed the ring that represented the identity of the cardinal. Bruce was also willing to reach out and accept the bowing of these congregations.

He slowly walked into the crowd, and the exhausted people took the initiative to get up from the ground and make a way. Everyone looked at this recent legend with admiration in their eyes. Although, Bruce doesn't know how much of this is true and how much is false.

When he reached the middle of St. Peter's Square, he stopped. He glanced back at the statue of St. Peter, and slowly knelt down, muttering the words of the Bible. The people around him also chanted, and the voices became louder and louder, and more and more people joined in. Suddenly, the whole square resounded with the voice of singing the praises of St. Peter.

In the palace in the north of St. Peter's Square, the crown prince was working on a beautiful girl, when suddenly a little eunuch broke in, regardless of his dignity, and shouted: "Oh no, no, Your Highness, the Pope is dead!"

The crown prince, who was already close to his peak, seemed to have been splashed with a basin of cold water, and he softened when he landed. He kicked the girl underneath him, jumped out of bed, put on his clothes, and rushed to the balcony. St. Peter's Square in the distance is brightly lit, and the mournful atmosphere spreads with the darkness of the night. A cold wind blew, and the prince shivered up and down, I don't know if it was because of the cold or because of fear. The grandfather immediately ordered a change of clothes, and when he was dressed, LaBelle appeared in front of him.

"What's going on, why did the Pope die all of a sudden?"

"I don't know!" LaBelle looked at the crown prince grimly, "Your Highness, you ......"

"Are you suspicious of me?" the prince grabbed LaBel's flickering gaze, and then pushed him away, "I have a hairy relationship with this?"

After the crown prince dressed up, he and LaBelle hurried to the main hall of the royal council. Empress Kate and several other cabinet ministers have arrived, and even her grandfather Qin Xiangtian has a rare appearance. The crown prince sat in his seat and asked in the first sentence: "Who can tell what the hell is going on?"

The crown prince looked around at all the people, but no one answered. At this time, a guard came to report that Cardinal Archbishops Mins Willow Yael and Bruce Wesley had asked to see her!

Before the prince could agree, Bruce and Yael walked in. With anger on his face, Bruce rushed directly to everyone and threw a horsewhip on the table, looked around at everyone, and finally his eyes fell on the prince, "His Royal Highness the prince, on behalf of all the members of St. Peter's Church, I want to ask you, forcing His Majesty the Pope to death, can your heart be at peace?"

"Bastard, it's nonsense!" the prince sprang up from his chair, his face flushed with excitement, and he cursed a little weakly, "I don't know what you're talking about? I, the heir of the House of Plintys, the crown prince of the Red Sun Empire, come on, arrest this arrogant man!"

"Wait!" Queen Kate interrupted the prince's roar, and she glanced at her son with some disappointment, "Let him continue!"

"Queen Mother, are you crazy?" the crown prince shouted angrily, "what kind of place is this, how can he be allowed to talk nonsense and slander the crown prince here?"

"Whether you are talking nonsense or not, it's not you who have the final say!" Qin Xiangtian said.

The crown prince looked at these two people from the Qinling family in surprise, and suddenly realized that there were only two Plintys sitting here. A wave of fear hit his heart, and the crown prince glanced at the imperial uncle, but Ross did not say anything, but looked at Archbishop Yael who was standing in the distance.

"This whip was used by the Pope for confession, and it was coated with poison. His Majesty the Pope was poisoned by this whip!" Bruce looked at the crown prince and said, "Now, the congregation gathered in the square needs an explanation!"