It was raining in the sky, and there was fog everywhere under the incandescent lights. The white clinker bags were blown into the tracks by the wind, and the signs on Line 2 swayed from side to side, making a creaking sound like a century-old door.

There are very few people on the platform, this point, this weather, most of the things that are not important are already resting at home, and occasionally a few figures are also homeless beggars or hawkers who rely on illegal marketing to support their families, sparse and frightening.

The rain that had been falling straight in front of the camera suddenly became tilted, as if a huge force was pushing them forward. The yellow light broke through the darkness from far and near, and the rain hit the glass and blurred the window.

The train came to a slow stop, and the yellow color of the front of the train was unusually eye-catching. This is the No. 2 subway line, which runs from Jianankou to the west corner, and is the last subway train in the city, and this is its last train, and it is now at 10:45, just arriving at the end.

The door opened slowly, and after a few minutes, no one came down.

The West Point is located in the northernmost part of the city, because there is a West Point Temple here and called the West Point, there are a lot of people who come here to travel here on weekdays, so the Zhengfu deliberately set the terminal station of Line 2 in the West Point. During the day, even when you arrive at the final station, the subway is overcrowded, but at night, it is not uncommon for people to come and go except for the monks in the temple.

The subway entered the station, but the doors were not closed for a long time, as if there were passengers in the car who did not get off, or there were passengers outside the car who did not get on. The glass inside the car is an optical effect that turns into a pitch-black mirror, reflecting the scene behind the camera that the camera can't capture, and dozens of people in black trench coats are standing, wearing black sunglasses, each holding a pistol in his hand, the muzzle of which is pointed at the door. The rain slid down their trench coats, and they remained motionless, like a cold, hard iron wall.

The sound of the wind, the sound of the rain, the sky and the earth were quiet for a few seconds. A flash of lightning suddenly streaked across the night sky, tearing through the thick darkness, and all the lights in the subway suddenly went out, and a black shadow appeared in the carriage.

The black shadow moved and walked out, and in an instant countless gunshots rang out, and a storm of bullets poured on the black shadow, pressing him into the carriage fiercely, and the bullets that hit the carriage splashed bright fire, and sparks and blood exploded in the darkness at the same time.

The gunfire stopped, and the carriage was filled with white smoke, and after a dozen seconds, the fog cleared, and the black figure lay in a pool of blood, whoever he was, apparently dead.

The man in the black trench coat walked into the carriage in silence, they crouched down to confirm that the black shadow was dead, and then someone took out a black bag, someone lifted the black shadow and put it in the bag, and then carried it out of the carriage, in the process one of the black shadow's hands was exposed, it was a pale and bloodless hand, like the hand of a corpse.

Someone brought out another corpse from the carriage, the corpse had no hair and was wearing a blue robe, it was a monk.

The monk was still a child, and it was clear from his eyebrows that he was no more than fifteen years old. He lay there, half of his neck missing, flesh and bones haphazardly exposed, red blood still trickling out.

He died a terrible death, half of his neck was missing, and that was not something that one person could do, as if some wild beast had attacked him, crawling around his neck and biting him fiercely. His eyes were wide and his hands were clutching his clothes, and it was hard to imagine the pain he had endured when he died.

The man in black began to withdraw from the carriage and gradually stepped out of the camera's range, and the last man raised his arm and shot the camera, and black and white snowflakes appeared on the screen, and the video ended.

……

An Yisheng put down the phone and took a deep breath.

"The MTA's Execution Department?"

"It's not. The director shook his head, "They were dressed a lot like the Executives, but the Executions didn't go out that day. And although those people in the executive department love to be cool, they don't have the habit of wearing sunglasses when they go out on missions, especially at night. ”

"Did you notice anything strange about the video?" asked the director.

Ye Xiaoxing shook his head, but An Yisheng nodded like a rattle, "I think it's more than a little strange, the whole video is so strange that it doesn't look like it's real." ”

"The video shows that it is the No. 2 subway line, but don't you find that this subway station does not match the No. 2 subway line in our memory?" The director's slightly narrowed eyes shone sharply.

Ye Xiaoxing and An Yisheng suddenly realized, yes, they were attracted by the story and ignored the background of the story. The subway is still the same subway, but the No. 2 subway line they know is clean, bright and open. Instead of the video shaking worn-out tags, using yellow incandescent lights, and even raining rain falling on the open-air subway.

"It's not so much a subway station as it is a subway running on train tracks. Ye Xiaoxing said.

"Put this aside for now, can you tell me what it is?" An Yisheng pointed to the black shadow, although it could be seen that it was a person, but An Yisheng was still not sure that he was human. The death of the little monk was obviously related to the dark shadow, if it was a human, how could it be possible to create that kind of wound.

The director did not speak, but put a few photos on the table. "We received a report today and found this. ”

An Yisheng looked at the photo, there was a maroon stone with the words Binjiang Avenue written in golden letters on the stone, and red flowers bloomed around the stone. A pale corpse in the midst of the flowers, with a round bloody hole between the eyebrows.

An Yisheng looked at the director, "What is this?"

"Riverside Avenue...... If I'm not mistaken, Xiao An, you live near Tomson Yipin!" the director pushed out his glass, "Add me another glass." ”

An Yisheng did not speak.

"We found this in the corpse. "The director put a golden thing on the table, a bullet.

"The mmSR pistol long bullet, the most powerful 9×19 millimeter pistol cartridge in Europe in the twenties of the twentieth century, fired at the Browning P-35, also known as 'high power'. Browning's powerful Mkl, the posthumous work of the ordnance genius Browning. 9×19 mm caliber, 197 mm length, 900 grams, six rifling, 13-round single-action magazine capacity. It was installed in the Belgian army in 1935. Known in the pistol world for its 13-round magazine capacity and high accuracy, it was used by more than 90 countries until the advent of the 17-round Glock pistol in the nineties, and the high power gradually withdrew from the military arena, but it is still used in many countries today. ”

The chief took out a black gold-plated pistol from his waist, embroidered on both sides of the barrel with intricate patterns, and the black handle shone brightly.

"I just have one. The director looked at An Yisheng, "You also have one." ”

An Yisheng was still silent.

"Binjiang Avenue, Metro Line 2, mmSR long bullets, high-powered pistols...... I can only think of you. The director looked at An Yisheng.

"What are you suspecting?" An Yisheng asked lightly.

"I don't suspect anything, I just want to know what happened? The bureau found that the body had been dead for two weeks, and this bullet was hit yesterday. ”

An Yisheng picked up the golden bullet, "I came back from the birthday party last night, and I met it on the way, and it was ready to kill me, so I shot it." ”

"It's as simple as that?"

"It's as simple as that. ”

The director didn't speak again, he picked up the whiskey and took a sip, looking at An Yisheng intently.

His eyes were dark and dark, like a snake spitting letters, or a night owl looking around on a tree branch at night. An Yisheng's scalp was a little numb.

From the moment the director took out the bullet, he knew that the director already knew that the body had something to do with him, and was suspicious of him. But he didn't know the man in black, let alone what the dead man was.

"Is this corpse down there now?" An Yisheng asked.

The director nodded, "I've been fiddling around for a day, and I haven't found anything." The director scratched his white hair like steel thorns, "Is there anyone else besides me and Xiaoxing who knows your identity?"

"Probably not, even if someone knows, they only know it by accident, how can it be so coincidentally an unknown force and come to kill me?"

"Not necessarily. The director glanced at Ye Xiaoxing on the side, "It's such a coincidence." ”

An Yisheng also looked at Teacher Xiaoxing, indeed. A year ago, Teacher Xiaoxing was walking on the street and was almost hit by a car that ran a red light, when An Yisheng passed by and activated his ability to save her, and she happened to be someone from the MTA. Could it be that he had inadvertently revealed his identity to some people? He remembered the children, the old people and the beautiful women he had helped, and they all smiled softly at him, none of them like bad people.

"This matter will be followed up by the bureau, Xiao An, you pay more attention to yourself, Xiao Xing also protects Xiao An. ”

Ye Xiaoxing nodded.

"Looks like the MTA has another opponent!" the director shook the wine in his hand and drank it down.