The black carriage disappeared at the end of the street.

The policeman withdrew his gaze, and he spat on the ground, and the phlegm fell into the puddle, and was soon washed away by the pouring rain, and the middle-aged policeman with a mustache cursed and vented his dissatisfaction.

An operation like today's is the only few times in his police career for more than ten years, and each time he has made himself very embarrassed, he has nothing to do with his busy work, and most importantly, it is life-threatening, even if he stands aside to maintain order, does some soy sauce work, and does not personally go to the front line to participate in the battle, he still suffers heavy casualties.

Jobs like the police, like municipal workers, sewer cleaners, and some artisanal owners, are basically passed down from father to son.

It's a bit like the mother country where Shui Lanxing Gu Chaoyang was located for a while, at that time, the descendants of workers were workers, and the descendants of farmers were farmers, if you want to get ahead and change the nature of your family's work, the only way to get ahead is to study, only to receive education, and be admitted to university, otherwise, you can only raise the banner of your father's generation, the bottom is the bottom, the top is the high, and it is difficult to change.

This was the case of the policeman named DuPont, whose father, Dupont Sr., had been a police officer in Reims for decades, and after retiring, he took over his father's job after a short period of training.

At that time, there were many graduates at the same time as him, most of whom were like him, and they were all sons inheriting their father's business.

It's just that, a few years ago, in a similar operation, he and his companions participated in the work of maintaining order, and with some mysterious people stationed in a certain block, most of the patrol officers like him were on the periphery of the block, responsible for dispersing the crowd, and no idlers were allowed to approach, at least two or three kilometers away from the center of the block where the incident occurred.

Under normal circumstances, two or three kilometers is considered a safe distance.

However, that's not all right.

Although the fighting was within two or three kilometers, the aftermath of the battle was not limited to the place, and the distance of two or three kilometers was not safe, and in that turmoil, they, the patrol officers, were also affected.

Half of the peers who graduated in the same period lost their lives that day.

That day was the heaviest day since the establishment of the Reims City Police Department, with more than 100 police officers killed, and during that time, almost the whole city was sprinkled with small white flowers, and funerals were always held in churches in various neighborhoods, and most of the people attending were members of the police and civil servants of the municipal office, and elegy was fluttering over the city, tragic and solemn.

DuPont was lucky, but he passed out in a coma and did not follow in the footsteps of his companions.

However, that incident had a great impact on him, and since then, he has fished for everything, and will never come forward, after all, there is only one life, and he has a few rabbit cubs with an amazing amount of food to feed, and he cannot die.

In fact, the neighborhood where Redbeard's small building is located is his patrol area, and it stands to reason that as long as he is on duty, he must enter that neighborhood and sign his name and time at the check-in desk in the center of the block to indicate that he has a job.

Patrol officers are supposed to patrol the neighborhood they are responsible for.

Actually, unless he went into the neighborhood to collect the offerings of the gangsters every month, DuPont wouldn't have entered there at all, and as for the check-in, the little bunnies would check in for him before the allotted time came.

Now, it's clear that something big is going on there.

It was his jurisdiction, and if something happened, he would be responsible.

What to do?

DuPont was anxious.

But, no matter what, he wants to save his life.

As for the responsibility, it is not his responsibility alone, you know, the protection fees he collects are all fixed, and after receiving them, he has to hand them over to his boss, and the boss will hand them over to the boss of the sub-bureau, and the boss of the sub-bureau will hand them over to the headquarters, and he will not be able to swallow the money, and the money he gets is just a bonus from his boss.

Yes, the salaries of these patrol officers themselves are not much, and they are not even as good as the workers who work on the assembly lines in large factories.

However, their private benefits are very powerful, every month, several times more than their salary, and most of these money come from guys like Redbeard.

Black Pig!

The nicknames they gave to these policemen were very figurative and very appropriate.

Fuck it!

The sky is falling, and there is a tall man on top of it!

"Who's that?"

A voice sounded in his ears.

DuPont was startled, and he jerked around, nearly throwing his baton away.

The man who spoke was a well-dressed gentleman, who wore a black umbrella, a top hat, a pair of black cowhide shoes, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Mr. Truman, good evening......"

DuPont hurriedly greeted the gentleman.

This guy named Truman is the secretary of the mayor's office, and the mayor from the imperial capital brought a large group of people with him at the beginning of his tenure, and at least half of his office is made up of northerners, just like this blonde Truman.

However, the person who commanded the operation was not the mayor's secretary.

He only appears as a bystander, he has the right to observe, he will record the progress of the matter and report to the mayor, however, he has no command authority, the whole operation is commanded by some mysterious department, they are only the police.

"That's an officer from the City Council's Security Division......"

Dupont replied with a smile.

What Kurtsov handed over to Dupont was a certificate from the Department of Security, which was not a forgery, but was issued by the office of the City Council's Department of Security, except that the name on the document was not Kurtsov, but his pseudonym, which was another of his identities.

With this certificate, it is much more convenient to do things for the family.

As for the City Council's Security Division, in fact, it is almost the territory of the Alfonso family.

Reims City, like all cities in the empire, is divided into the House of Lords and the House of Commons, the House of Lords must be of noble origin, and the House of Commons, even the general public can enter, as long as you are rich and famous, of course, those from noble families still account for a part.

The Security Department is responsible for the security of the House of Commons.

Why not check the carriage carriages?

This sentence almost blurted out, but Truman did not say it.

He knows, it's useless to say it, it's just nonsense, this little policeman has a reason to prevaricate, even if he is the mayor's secretary, there is no way to punish this policeman, the mayor must personally order, and the police chief will obey the order, but there is no need to do this, even if the police department fires that guy, it will compensate this guy elsewhere.

"My lord, I don't have the authority to inspect the security department's carriage ......"

DuPont still explained, no matter what, he didn't want to offend these big people.

Even if it's just a low-level patrolman, I've heard a lot of gossip related to these upper-level, the mayor is a strong dragon from the north, the city council is a tiger, the police belong to civil servants, and it stands to reason that they should be under the command of the mayor's office, however, the current director of the Reims City Police Department is a local, and has always been very close to the local aristocracy, and can be regarded as the lackeys of the big lords in the house, so for the mayor's orders, although the director accepted them very respectfully on the surface, in fact, most of them were shelved high-rise buildings, and those documents were allowed to eat dust in the archives。

However, if the other party wanted to crush him, a little ant, it would be effortless.

So, DuPont put its attitude very low.

"This is the carriage of the Javier family!"

Dupont continued to smirk.

"I recognize his family's coat of arms, which is supposed to be the son of Viscount Javier of the House of Lords, who is most fond of night tours, and is very famous...... Playboy!"

Martin Javier is Jorgen Alfonso's playmate, he is indeed a playboy, eats, drinks, and is proficient in everything, but in addition, everything is sparse, and he usually follows Jorgen, however, when Jörgen needs to do something unseemly, his identity is replaced by Jörgen, at that time, he can only hide in the secret room of his home, and cannot see people.

If something goes wrong, someone needs to step up.

Then, Martin Javier will come out and admit it.

Well, to put it simply, he's a backstabber, and that's the meaning of his existence.

The Javiers were vassals of the Alfonso family, who had been servants of the palace for generations when the Alfonso family was the ruler of the Iberian Peninsula.

If, this time, Jörgen Alfonso's operation fails, and the matter is exposed, as long as he is not caught on the spot, and he is not caught red-handed, then the person who did this will not be Jörgen, but Martin Javier.

In order to give an account, Martin Javier will confess his guilt in public and then apologize to himself.

Truman frowned and didn't speak.

He looked up ahead, and on the other side of the street, there were rows of houses.

There is basically no planning in this block, and illegal buildings are endless, squeezing the original roads and alleys, so that even the main street is not wide, and it will bend if it does not extend for more than ten meters, and there is no straight road.

The rain was pouring down, but it still didn't obscure the light of the intense searchlight.

The light was shooting straight into the sky, forming a bright pillar of light, and finally, disappearing into the dark depths of the firmament.

The shouts and wails that came from before are gone.

Just as Truman was looking there, Livingston was also looking there, but the place where he was standing was different, at this moment, he was standing in front of Xiaolou, only fifty or sixty meters away from Xiaolou.

Behind him, Johnny frowned slightly.

"Energy fluctuations?"

Livingston asked softly, looking ahead.

Johnny had his head down, and he had a detector in his hand.

This detector is an alchemy product, which can monitor extraordinary energy fluctuations at close range, and now the small building is not more than a hundred meters away from them, and it is not beyond the monitoring range.

Johnny shook his head.

No fluctuations?

Left?

"Let's go......"

Livingston no longer hesitated, dropped the sentence, and walked towards the small building.