The picture is poor, and the dagger will see.

Lorraine knows that villains die from talking too much, and under normal circumstances, he shouldn't have gossiped so much with Morey until he takes control of the situation.

But now it was a small space, and they were being pointed at the head with four guns, and if they had not said anything to buy themselves a moment to prepare, all Lorraine could count on was the Spaniard's rifles with no bullets in their chambers.

How likely is this?

No matter how many, Lorraine didn't dare to joke with her own life.

And now, the preparation is over, and the bluff rhetoric has successfully fulfilled its mission.

Henna suddenly disappeared.

A moment ago she sat nicely on her couch, pressed her legs on her side like a real lady, and folded her hands on the big skirt.

The next moment she was gone, and all that was left on the couch was a slightly swaying black skirt.

Henna emerged like water from her untied skirt and slid down on the carpet, her hand raised, her red light flashing, and the knife pierced the throats of the two guards in the blink of an eye.

Lorraine erupted at the same time, leaning forward to talk, and shook his hand to throw the ashtray on the coffee table as a hidden weapon.

No one knows exactly how hard he used.

The heavy, crystalline glass made a whining sound in the air, like a comet hitting the earth, right in front of the current guard, blood, brains, all kinds of strange slurry sprayed out, the guard fell on his back without saying a word, and the red and white filth splashed the stupid Morey.

Four gunners blink of an eye and only one remains.

In front of him, Lorraine pounced on the coffee table like a leopard, and Henna swam like a snake from the carpet. and Barto, who was half a beat slower, took out the short gun in his waist and turned around majestically to aim, but became the most intuitive threat target present.

The overwhelmed guard subconsciously moved the barrel of the gun towards Bartow, and a black light suddenly flashed under his eyes.

Henna sprang up from the ground, her upside-down dagger slashing across the guard's left shoulder, blood splattering out.

The guard's left hand suddenly lost its strength.

He saw the dark shadow of Henna in his eyes, and then he caught a glimpse of the bright red of the blood mist in the afterglow. The third signal received by the brain was that the left hand was weak, and the whole left arm hung down weakly, and the barrel of the gun that had lost its support was naturally aimed at the ground.

It was only then that he realized he was injured.

The pain was overwhelming from the wound in his left shoulder, and the guards wanted nothing more than to scream. His mouth opened, and Lorraine, who was only one step behind Henna, pinched his neck and twisted it slightly, only to hear a click, scream, and diestillborn.

The battle ended abruptly.

Morey didn't know if the so-called battle had lasted three or four seconds, but before Lorraine's words of "it's a pity there were no prizes" had landed, the situation in front of him had completely changed.

That's four gunslingers!

Loaded with live ammunition and well-trained. They were Morey's true cronies in the Civilian Army, and each of them, like him, received another, more dignified and noble salary in the Mediterranean Fleet.

They were the non-commissioned officers of the Royal Spanish Navy, the elite of the Marine Corps, and the militia out there, who could only act as tax collectors.

But......

But God! What kind of monster did Major Marat provoke, a weapon made for killing?

Why is it that in the blink of an eye, the world has completely changed......

Frightened, frightened, frightened.

Morey felt something slip on his face, and subconsciously wiped it, only to wipe off half of his broken eyeballs.

"Ah......h

"Shh Lorraine stood in front of him at some point, holding the guns dropped by the guards on the ground in one hand, and holding his index finger in the other hand, gently pressing it to his lips, "Before figuring out something, I hope you can be quiet, it's good for everyone." ”

Morey shuddered.

He sat down on the couch at Lorraine's request, and the mighty Barto stood behind him, holding a musket to his skull, so that he could remember the fate of the uncooperative at any time.

Lorraine slammed the barrel of the gun across from him, knocking it twice, smashing out scattered gunpowder and round buckshots, and every handle was like that.

This result seems to have pleased Lorraine.

He threw the gun away, stood up and checked the curtains and windows, and looked through the glass for a while outside, which was actually the situation of the black-lit auxiliary buildings.

After a long five minutes, Lorraine returned to Morey and sat across from him across the coffee table.

"Okay sir, we finally have a better communication environment. Now tell me, where is the arsenal? ”

Resisting the urge to beg for mercy, Morey picked up the last of his pride, and twisted his head away in resentment. But Lorraine only stretched out his finger and spun it, and Barto's large hand quickly turned his head back.

"You're refusing to communicate, and that's not good." Lorraine spoke slowly, "Don't forget that when your guard pointed a gun at me, I fully cooperated with your questioning, and I think this is the kind of gentleman that a gentleman should have." ”

"I didn't expect a person like you with bloody hands to call himself a gentleman!"

"Gentlemen and blood are not in conflict, Mr. Morey. The Spaniards ushered in the great Age of Discovery, and those who sowed the light of civilization to the New World were gentlemen, and each of them had blood on their hands. ”

"That's just the blood of a beast!"

Seeing Morey's high-spirited appearance, Lorraine sighed regretfully.

"It seems that we really don't have a common language on human rights and equality, so we ...... Tell me how to get into the arsenal, or I'll keep you alive to see what hell looks like. ”

Straightforward what works best......

Morey's momentum suddenly became shorter, and his arrogance lacked self-confidence support, becoming hollow and weak.

"You...... You don't dare. This is a barracks, an officer's barracks, and in such a high-profile place, you will never dare to torture me! ”

"Really?"

Lorraine frowned impatiently, stood up, and pulled out a decent bottle of Cuban white rum from Morey's cupboard.

"I just spent five minutes confirming some things, some doubts, do you want to know?"

Morey pursed his lips and responded with silence.

"First, the weapons your guards have brought are loaded, the hammers are ready to fire, and at least one of the four has actually intended to shoot."

"That shows that you're not worried about gunfire causing a commotion."

"There are two reasons for this, either this room is specially soundproofed, or you have eyes in the camp and can murder visitors as you please. And I'm more inclined to the former. ”

"You've been in the Civilian Army for five years, and you need to have a high level of privacy in your work, not only with a wide view, but also with good sound insulation in case you have ears over the walls when discussing certain sensitive topics."

"I also found other corroboration. For example, the climate of San Carlos does not require triple glazing because there are no harsh winters; As your identity, you should not be able to afford luxurious and heavy flannel curtains, in fact, even the wealthy with millions of assets rarely make curtains of this material all the time, which is not fashionable. ”

"So I know, I can do anything to you in this room, you can scream wantonly, and no one in the entire barracks will pay attention to it except us."

Morey's face was so white and transparent that cold sweat had already crawled all over his forehead, and even his lips couldn't stop trembling.

"But...... But you still need me to take you into the arsenal, if you use torture, others will see that you can't do anything! ”

"That's the second question."

Lorraine took a sip of wine, held it in her mouth for a moment, and then spit it back into her glass in frustration.

"A Spaniard actually drinks inferior Cuban rum, it seems that your two salaries are not as high as I thought......"

"Straight to the point, point two. You were going to kill us here, and then use our corpses as scapegoats to blow up the arsenal of the People's Army. ”

"As you said, how can you and your men get three corpses unobtrusively to their destination in a crowded barracks? Is it in a box? ”

"There are no vacant arms boxes in the room, and there are no lights or fires in the annex building here, which means that the only cronies you can rely on are the four people I killed. This means that you don't have the right vehicles, and at the same time, you don't have enough manpower. ”

"I guess the access to the arsenal should be in your officers' quarters, either the main building or the annex building. Otherwise, you'll lead us to the arsenal before we think about it. After all, I'm here for this, and it's much easier to bring a few living people in than it is to transport a few dead people in. ”

"I don't know if I'm right?"

With Lorraine's question, Morey gave up resistance completely.

He slumped his shoulders and hung his head, no longer hearing the slightest anger in his voice: "I am willing to take you to the arsenal, but I want to live, this is my only request." ”

"I agree." Lorraine held up three fingers to the sky, "I can swear to God." ”