Enrui? Louis has an ordinary reputation, he also has an ordinary background, an ordinary appearance, an ordinary family, the deposit number on the bank card is very ordinary, the home in the apartment is very ordinary, the wife's job is very ordinary, and the daughter's grades are very ordinary.

But he had an unusual job, he was the deputy head of the night shift of a security team at the Louvre.

The Louvre is the jewel of Paris, the pride of the French, and as the guardian of the Louvre and the many works of art in the Louvre, Enre? Louis felt that he was a hero, a national hero, so he preferred to be called Mr. Louis rather than the more affectionate Enre.

The status of the night team is lower than that of the day team, but Mr. Louis does not think so, because most of the people who dare to fight the idea of the Louvre come in the middle of the night, so the responsibility is heavier, and the status should be higher, it is a pity that the night team has the opposite schedule and rest, but the salary is the same as the day team, Mr. Louis has some grievances in his heart, but he has never complained to anyone, because heroes will not care about these details.

Superman saves people from the fire and does not ask people for fire extinguishing money; Spider-Man helps the police catch the bad guys and never asks for a bounty; The Flash has never asked anyone for the wear and tear of shoes.

Of course, diǎo silk relies on mutation, and local tyrants rely on technology, like Tony? Stark, Bruce? Superheroes of Wayne's level naturally don't need material compensation, they are the ones who pay people's salaries.

As usual, Mr. Louis came home from work at eight o'clock in the morning and kissed his wife at the door who was taking his daughter to school and touched her head. I washed up, put on an eye mask, and slept until 5 p.m. The wife got off work, and then the daughter came back, and the family really became a family.

Eating the food that his wife made was not very good, listening to her complaining about the troubles she encountered at work, and watching her daughter mix the food on the plate a little clumsily, and slowly classify and separate, I just felt that this life was very happy. He was so content with his life that he simply ate more.

So the wife began to complain, saying that he had already been blessed. Attention must be paid to what you eat.

Mr. Louis smiled embarrassedly, scratched the top of his bald head, married late, and had a small wife and children. He loves life now. Know how to cherish the Tao.

At ten o'clock in the evening, after settling his daughter to sleep, he put on a dark blue security uniform, a dark blue peaked cap, and a dark blue tweed coat.

At half past ten, he quietly walked into his daughter's bedroom, kissed his sleeping daughter's forehead, and kissed his wife's red lips. Pick up the flashlight that has been with him for more than ten years, like a short stick, and walk out of the house.

It's still snowing. The snow was heavier than during the day, and the temperature was colder than during the day, Mr. Louis wrapped the collar of his coat tightly, wrapped his neck and even half of the back of his head with a wide collar, and walked forward with his head down and stepping on the snow, such weather is not suitable for driving, the cold is cold, but the hero has always been fearless of the cold.

The snow soon piled up on Mr. Louis and his shoulders and visor, and grew a little heavier, so that he did not feel the invisible hand that could hold back the falling snowflakes and gently lay over his head.

It was dark, and the hero, Mr. Louis, lost consciousness.

……

When I opened my eyes again, I felt hunger and cold, and smelled a pungent stench, which was clearly from excrement, not from rotting corpses.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on the ground, and there was a dim small lamp high above my head, and the lampshade was actually rolled up from old cardboard.

The light was circled, and the slightly charred paper did not reflect much light, so only a small piece of the ground was illuminated, and he was lying on the ground.

The floor was damp and slippery, and the aisle hadn't been washed in years, and the dirt had piled up and even made the floor uneven, and Mr. Louis sat up with his body propped up, not noticing any discomfort, just not remembering how he had come here.

By the dim light, he looked around, there was a toilet in the front left corner, from which the smell wafted from, and in the right front corner there was a small bed, very narrow, about the width of a park bench, which could only accommodate one person to lie flat, and there were two pieces of cloth on the bed, which were so dirty, one was a sheet, and the other was a quilt.

That's all there was to the little room, with a thick iron door behind it, rusty, but very sturdy.

Mr. Louis immediately thought of two possibilities, both of which frightened him, but he preferred the former, and began to look around.

He hoped to find a small tape recorder, and he hoped to hear a distorted male voice coming from the tape recorder: "Hello, Mr. Louis, I want to play a game with you......"

It's a pity that no recording equipment can be found, neither in the toilet nor under the small bed, nor any playback equipment, and naturally it is impossible to see the miserable white puppet image with circles on its face.

The second possibility, it seems, is more likely and more terrifying.

After about two minutes or so, the small window on the door suddenly slid open, revealing a gas mask, the small window was very flat, and only the black blindfold on the gas mask could be seen, and the light outside was very strong and somewhat dazzling.

Just as he wanted to speak, Mr. Louis suddenly heard someone shouting loudly, he could hear the two voices in front of him clearly, but he couldn't understand them, they looked like Huaxia, and then the third voice was shouted in English, probably understandable, but the guy's accent was too heavy and he couldn't hear clearly, as if he was protesting, asking to contact the Huaxia Embassy and ask to call home.

Probably seeing that the person who knocked on the door opened his mouth and did not speak, the person wearing a gas mask outside closed the small window again with a "swish", and suddenly the small room was quiet again.

But Mr. Louis's ears were not quiet, and he heard his own heartbeat, which was deafening.

In a trance, he walked over to the little bed, and sat down on the bed, the wooden bench-like cot creaking unpleasantly, as if in protest, but Monsieur Louis did not hear it, and he could not even smell the stench coming from the toilet bowl in front of him.

The Louvre has never been very peaceful, but there are very few thieves who can really threaten, and there are also high-value works of art elsewhere, so there is no need to come to the Louvre to steal, so Monsieur Louis has worked for nearly 20 years, and has only encountered one thief.

At that time, he was still young, only a member of the lowest level of the security team, and the night team was naturally very excited to catch the thief, he thought it would cause a sensation, but the next day, everyone seemed to forget about it, and the thief disappeared from then on.

Mr. Louis did not mention the incident to others, and it was not until many years of work that he knew about the existence of the Black Prison, but he didn't know where the Black Prison was, and he had become the deputy leader ten years ago, and he heard that the Black Prison had changed places, but he still didn't know where the Black Prison had changed.

He only knew that the people who had entered the black prison never came out again.

Some time ago, he also heard about the fact that the white team caught a few thieves, it seems that he killed one, and caught three, all of whom are from Huaxia, and I heard that they are very good, and they have all come to the warehouse where the famous painting is placed.

Just now there were two Chinese voices, and one spoke English with a strong Chinese accent...... Yourself was dealt with in person?

But even if you are treated as an internal response, there is no need to be imprisoned as a thief! Then he thought that if he was an internal response, then he knew the existence of the great thief, and if he wanted to make the thief evaporate from the world, then he would naturally evaporate with it.

Jumping up from the bed, Mr. Louis walked briskly to the iron door, and just as he raised his fist to knock on the door again, it stopped in the air again.

The black prison is not an ordinary prison, and the people detained here have no right to appeal, no right to let the wind out, no right to bask in the sun, no right to freedom.

In other words, he was going to die in this foul-smelling room.

……

"What if he doesn't know what to do?" Yu Ye looked at the display bottle in front of him, put the strap of the gas mask on his fingers and kept flicking it.

"After twenty years of work, he will definitely find out something." Liang Jun sat next to him and said confidently.

"The question is, does he dare to say anything about the Black Prison."

"Mr. Louis is the best target, he has a stable job, he has a wife and children, he has no affairs, he doesn't have too many ideas, such a person is simple, easy to satisfy, loyal to his family, he will be afraid if he is worried, he will do everything to get home, it is more effective than putting a gun directly on his head." Liang Jun peeled a piece of candy and threw it into his mouth.

……

Mr. Louis was engaged in a fierce psychological struggle, and he had indeed inquired about many things, but the more he inquired, the more terrifying he felt, that the pool was too deep and too cold, and that he was afraid that he would not be able to go ashore if he swam a little longer, so he forcibly interrupted it, and buried what he had heard deep in his heart.

He didn't know if he wanted or could take out those dusty things as bargaining chips, this was gambling, if the other party knew that he had mastered these things, it might cause more trouble.

But what can be done? He felt his heart throb when he thought of his wife's pursed lips when she was angry, of his daughter's slightly trembling eyelashes when she was asleep, of the fact that he might rot here and become another stench in this small room, while his wife and daughter were still waiting for him at home.

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Louis stood up, walked to the door with firm steps, and knocked on the iron door.

It's an unreasonable place, but that doesn't mean it's all unreasonable.

"Please help me contact Mr. Baptiste, 'Watchdog' Baptiste."

…… (To be continued......)