At Wellington International Airport, a Boeing 777 roared down the long runway, and as soon as the British mission stepped off the plane, it was immediately displeased. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

"Damn, what is New Zealand doing, and there isn't even a welcome minister?"

There was only one clearance car under the plane, and nothing else. There were no welcoming New Zealand officials, no courteous airport staff, and the country they had been to was completely different from the one they had been to before.

The head of the mission was Lord Kadir, a bureaucrat who had been up and down in British politics for more than 20 years. If you don't even send a welcome person and control the attitude of the Drama Cult in New Zealand, then you don't need to ask.

Kadir stretched out his hand to stop his men's complaints, and said, "Let's go, even if some things are irretrievable, the meeting still needs to be carried out, because we need to gather more information." ”

The satellites in the sky were able to see a lot, but they still did not have a deep understanding of New Zealand society, and the mission was not only tasked with negotiating, but also with understanding the sect that had popped up.

Since the fall of the New Zealand government, no one has been able to leave, except for a few wealthy people who own private jets. Not only that, but New Zealand seems to have become a second North Korea, and the Internet has been cut off, and it is no longer possible to communicate through the Internet.

Such a state makes the outside world worry that the so-called theatrical cult is an independent one. Religious groups that cut harsh rules, like ISIS, impose a repressive approach to those under their rule. Look, who would put the word "Cult" in the name of a group other than those madmen in the Middle East?

It's a pity that many old men in the British religious circles have rummaged through the pile of old papers many times, and have not found any relevant information about the theatrical religion. It was as if the group had jumped out of a stone, leaving no words in history.

Kadir's mission was to find out the details and style of the sect, but he was given a cold reception at the beginning, and he didn't have much hope for the mission.

"Fortunately, there is also a customs clearance bus here, otherwise we would have to walk out of the airport." The deputy head of the mission muttered. He also glanced at the quiet airport around him, where planes were parked on the side of the runway, lined up in a neat row.

An international airport, except for the Boeing 777 plane that had just sent them, no other planes took off and landed, and it seemed to be abandoned.

The mission left the airport, boarded two commercial vehicles sent by the New Zealand side, and headed for the government office.

The driver had a cold face and did not answer any of the mission's questions, looking really annoying.

Even an old bureaucrat like Kadir was secretly angry, and to comfort him a little, his men kept their eyes on the windows of the car, constantly collecting the current situation in Wellington.

As the capital of New Zealand, Wellington is located at the southernmost tip of the North Island, in the Cook Strait, and is suitable for the heart of the country. The urban area is surrounded by mountains on three sides, facing the sea on one side, embracing the natural harbor of Nicholson, and the overall wheel corridor is like an ancient Roman amphitheater.

Originally, the city had only four or five hundred thousand people, but after 20 million refugees from Australia arrived, the population quickly rose to three million and became crowded.

In the British mission, Wellington, with so many refugees, should be very chaotic, with frequent crimes, and there are many reports about this on the Internet. But they were surprised that they didn't see many refugees wandering along the way.

"Where have all the people gone?"

This question was destined to go unanswered, because the driver remained silent all the time, as if on guard against the enemy. The people in the mission had no choice but to wait until they met with the Church of the Dramatic Divine.

As we galloped all the way, the vehicle soon arrived at the Wellington Government House.

This time, there was finally an official female civil servant standing by the gate, guiding Kadir and the others inside.

"Excuse me, why don't you see pedestrians and cars on the road? In any city, there are probably a lot of pedestrians and cars, but I didn't see them in Wellington. Kadir asked tentatively.

It was a bit odd, but it wasn't his primary concern, but it was just right to test the attitude of the Drama Cult.

"I can tell you, Messenger of Qadir, that almost everyone is at work. Refugees and New Zealanders alike are pleasing the great god of theatre. Ruth is probably in her twenties, but when she says the words "God of Drama", she has a pious face.

Kadir was a little abrupt, even in England, he had not seen such a devout believer in God for a long time. What is this god of drama like, even more attractive than the gods who have been handed down for thousands of years?

"By labor, you mean?" Kadir asked. After hearing the explanation, the doubts in his heart not only did not dissipate, but became thicker.

Ruth's expression was a little displeased, but she still replied: "The god of drama likes all kinds of wonderful plots the most, including movies, TV series, dramas, musicals, and so on. Everyone who can produce a first-class story will be rewarded in various ways. Like strength, youth, and even longevity. ”

"What!" The missions, including Kadir, were all shocked and could not believe it.

If what the receptionist said was true, then it was clear why there were no people loitering in the streets, because everyone was racking their brains for all sorts of incredible rewards.

"Is this true? Is there really a god in the world? A young man in the mission couldn't help but say, his face full of suspicion, "Even if the god of nature who established the dream realm has never appeared. ”

The receptionist raised his eyebrows and shouted: "Bold, you dare to talk about gods like this, if it weren't for the fact that you are a foreigner, you would be thrown into the prison of thinking!" ”

Kadir hurriedly apologized, greeted him with a smile, and finally reluctantly made Ruth give up the investigation.

"Commander, you don't have to do this, I don't believe that little New Zealand will have the courage to provoke Britain!" The young man said angrily.

Kadir shook his head, and scolded the young man's father in his heart, if it weren't for the big man forcing the young man into the gilding, there would be no such conflict.

The mission finally arrived at the Prime Minister's office, which was in charge of New Zealand, and was a little nervous, because everything in this theatrical cult was full of mysteries, and it was completely different from the previous modern countries.

"Pope, the British envoy is here." Ruth knocked lightly on the door and said respectfully.

"Come in." A gentle female voice came out.

Pope? The British mission wondered if it had traveled back in time to the Middle Ages, so why did anyone still like to call it that? Even backward African chiefs will put the title of prime minister, president, general or something on their heads. (To be continued.) )