In the imperial capital, street lamps have replaced the light of the sky to illuminate the streets, and men with gray temples and aged between middle and old age still sit at their desks.

The world outside the window is wonderful, and the prosperity as always seems to have not been affected in the slightest by the 'major events' that are happening today.

After all, everything that happened today is not allowed to be reported, and the death of the head of a country in the capital of the Celestial Empire cannot be excluded from any point of view.

The current international situation is at a delicate equilibrium point, and the Celestial Empire is not ready to upset this equilibrium.

"Alas......"

The confessions on the table had been piled up layer after layer, and the people who were "invited" to interrogate today were not 100 but 800, and the information obtained from the overt and covert investigation was not 1,000 but 800, but he still failed to catch any clues.

In other words, the 'clues' that can be caught at the moment are not something that a person in his position can touch.

Although this is the Imperial Capital Police Station, and although his position is the director of this police station, this case has not been able to be investigated by him since it happened, as early as a few hours ago, he received a reprimand from the "top", and at the moment, the entire imperial capital's police force has been taken over.

It's really ridiculous to say, he usually thinks he is a big man, and after the power at hand is stripped away, he doesn't even know whose hands his power has been transferred.

"Let's go. ”

There was nothing to do to stay, no one would knock on his door now, and from the time when the command and leadership were taken away, he had become a man to be retired who could not resist his shoulders and hands up, and whether it was his former subordinates or himself, he was completely uncertain whether his 'retirement' would be in a prison cell or something else.

If something so big happens, you have to find a few scapegoats, and if there is no accident, this former director must be on the "scapegoat list".

For this "plague god", everyone avoids it.

He had been sitting in his office until the end of the day, and at that point in time he hadn't arrived for years, the sound of hasty, chaotic footsteps outside the room reminded him of the end of the day.

No one has touched him today, at least, no one will move him openly in this bureau.

Most of the officials who lost their power and fell off their horses were pulled out of the bed by the law enforcers and thrown into the dark cells with cold shackles, and presumably, this process was also common this time.

He thought so indifferently in his mind, a little self-deprecating, and a little lost.

He got up from his seat, smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt with both hands from the long hours of work, and straightened his tie as a newcomer would do on his first day at work.

He moved slowly, treating every fold of his garment as if he were a certificate, but there were so many folds, and there were so many folds in the garment, that in about two minutes he had done all the work.

The clothes are ready, the crown is right, and it is time to hit the road.

However, just as he was about to leave the seat where he had been sitting alone all afternoon, the phone on the table rang as if it had been rehearsed beforehand.

"Jingle bell!"

The empty and lonely office, the sudden ringing of the bell, if a person with a weak psychological quality stands here, I am afraid that he can jump out of thin air.

However, the former director standing at the table did not even tremble the muscles on his face.

"Hello?"

The bell rang three times, no more, no less, and he lifted the earpiece and spat out a word in a tepid voice.

"Report to the director!" Officer Cheng just woke up, and he kept muttering something 'twenty-one'. ”

On the other end of the line was a young, somewhat hoarse voice, and the background sound of the phone was quiet, a little harsh.

How can the concept of "quiet" give rise to the feeling of "harshness"?

Unbeknownst to the Director, he just inexplicably smelled something similar to formalin.

Very ominous taste.

"'Twenty-one'?"

He repeated the message that the young man had sent back.

He didn't understand what the number meant, but he knew that the one who was now lying in the hospital would have the same fate as himself.

The tallest pillars in a temple are often the oldest, and when a temple collapses, they are the first to fall.

So, whatever the number means, it doesn't matter to them.

"Take care of Lao Cheng. ”

He is no longer the director, maybe from tonight, there will be no such person as him in this world, and now he is regarded as the head of a bureau, and the people who obey his orders are afraid that in addition to the descendants who have been supported all the way, I am afraid that this rookie who has just entered the workplace, has not yet learned to see the wind and steer, or has not smelled the 'political and political winds' at all.

After saying this, he hung up the phone, he had done too much to procrastinate, and only today, only at this moment, he didn't want to procrastinate.

This body is already a sinful body, and in the end, there is no need to say too much to a new person, causing others to speculate about their relationship.

The scapegoats were never one or two, but a flock.

Putting down the phone, the man with gray temples glanced back at the window one last time.

The street is still the same street, but the lights in front of the shops on the street are a little dazzling.

Neon, red wine, falling into the skirts of the beauties on the street.

"It's a beautiful view. ”

He didn't know what he was glorifying.

Is it a lamp?

Is it wine?

Or people?

Suddenly, he smiled.

"Whoa!"

About a dozen seconds later, a sonorous rain fell from the bottom of the building, and there was a pool of blood that could not be gathered between the crystals.

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The sky is already inky black, the breeze is crossing, the people who pretend to be forced sigh the wind, and the lonely people sigh the wind.

Beneath him was a fluffy new grass, and after escaping his life with the help of a talisman again, Mo Xie appeared here.

This is a sea of grass, and the outline of the mountain can be vaguely seen a little farther away, and the slightly milder climate tells Mo Ye that he should be somewhere in the southern part of the interior, and there is a high probability that he has been transmitted back to the depths of southern Xinjiang.

Mo Xie couldn't even lift a finger now, and with the tenacity of the Qilin arm, although the slash from the top of the cloud would not dismember him, the trembling power that entered his body still made him drink a pot fiercely.

It's like the points spent on exchanging escape talismans have opened a knife in his heart.

"Goo-toot!"

There are more than a dozen empty bottles around him, and it may be difficult to recover from physical injuries, but it is not difficult to recover the spiritual power as a combat resource.

Mo Ye's counterattack was just a collection of 'all the power he had at the moment', this time he didn't choose to overdraw, so after a short rest, he had the strength to use his mental power to take out the 'blood medicine' from the space bracelet and drink.

"It seems that the road back to the hometown is really difficult to climb. ”

After pouring so much medicine in one go, Mo Xie finally regained some strength, paused the action of continuing to take medicine from the space bracelet instead, and used his mental power to grasp the tip of the sword after the Huolin Sword was broken.

"Whew!"

The clothes on his body have long been sparse, and after the slash, it is just a mortal thing, and it has no reason to remain, it only needs to be weathered by the wind, but now Mo Xie has accelerated this process with his mental power.

The sharp blade easily sliced through Mo Ye's body, cutting through several places where blood had accumulated, and for a while, a piece of flesh and blood on Mo Ye's body was blurred.

Mo Xie gritted his teeth and worked hard to make the broken sword run on him with precision.

It was a bloody and sublime dance.