It's an ordinary house, unremarkable in every way. Pen %Fun %Pavilion www.biquge.info But what does it matter? Anyway, this house only has a special meaning for two people, one is Kevin. Wilson, and that's only because he lives here -- he's been living here for three weeks since he returned to Los Angeles; The other was Messerschmitt, but only because Mr. Wilson was his target - yes, Kevin. Wilson is the reporter who is investigating Qin Lang's background and history.

He had to die.

It's a matter of course – although Messerschmitt's mission is the same as Wilson's, but he doesn't sympathize with the fool at all – everyone has a secret they want to hide: Sean. O'Connor had planned and participated in a robbery that targeted the Internal Revenue Service; Duncan. Sandy is linked to a murder that happened in San Francisco, although it was an accident; Rachel. McBride had a father she refused to mention because he colluded with a Mexican gang and murdered his wife. Although these secrets are not worth mentioning at all compared to Qin Lang's mysterious past, who wants them to be found?

But Mr. Wilson would find them all; Even if that wasn't his main goal, even if he was interested in Qin Lang's background and history, he would still find out all of them.

Because the same thing has happened before, though it hasn't come to light yet, and probably never will come to light -- just Rachel, Duncan, and Sean. O'Connor didn't know anything about it, except that a reporter would discover their secret, so they wanted him to disappear forever, even if he hadn't discovered their secret yet.

The best way to eliminate a threat is to destroy it before it becomes a threat.

Of course, for Messerschmitt, whether Wilson had already unearthed Qin Lang's secrets and unearthed other people's secrets by the way was not a question worth caring about. All he cared about was Qin Lang's secrets, the secrets he hadn't found yet, maybe Wilson hadn't discovered it either, but maybe he had found it, or had clues. If so, he hopes to share those findings.

On the other hand, however, this behavior is dangerous, because that would mean that his secret would be exposed, meaning that he would be the next target, unless no one knew that he had shared Wilson's findings.

So Kevin. Wilson had to die.

But Wilson didn't know that he had already been sentenced to death and would be executed immediately. While Messerschmitt was already standing at his door, raising a hand to knock on the door, the journalist buried himself in a mass of materials that had taken so much effort, time, and money to find answers to the most important questions.

Who is Qin Lang, where is he from, and what he wants to do. These questions have been bothering him for three years, but to this day, he still can't find a clue. And there is only one reason: on that morning in 1893, no one had seen him or heard of him before Qin Lang walked into Las Vegas and asked the drunken sheriff where the town's bar was, no matter where he was, California, Nevada, Florida, or any other state, or even China, as if he didn't exist.

Although, theoretically, such a thing could not happen: all people, even hermits, always have complex or simple social relationships, with family, relatives, friends, classmates, acquaintances, strangers with one or more sides and, of course, acquaintances. No one can completely hide their social relationships, even the experts who are best at hiding themselves can find clues through careful investigation, and a famous and rich person like Qin Lang, even if no one investigates, his relationship will jump out by itself.

But in reality, this is not the case at all. Wilson pondered the problem every day, but it did no good other than to add to his troubles. If it weren't for the journalist's sense of sacred mission to discover the truth and make it public, he would have finished his investigation and started writing news - you know, just that part of the information he collected was enough to make a sensation in the United States and make him famous and rich.

kidnapping, murder, arms smuggling, collusion with gangs, bribery of police, bribery of government officials, undermining of justice...... These crimes would keep Qin Lang in prison for the rest of his life, and his huge wealth and parliamentarian friends would not be able to keep him busy - but compared to his mysterious origins, all his crimes were only trivial and not worth mentioning.

Wilson's goal is very clear, he must find out all the secrets of Qin Lang, and in order to do this, his conscience can wait.

"And I have the evidence, and I can expose that villain from China at any time." He thought confidently, poured himself a cup of coffee, then stood up and rushed into the kitchen, trying to find something delicious to stuff in his mouth.

Then he heard a knock on the door, very rhythmically, bang, bang, bang, bang, three times in a row. It's strange that Wilson has been leaving his former friends since he lost his job, and who is going to visit him now because he only returned to Los Angeles from China three weeks ago without informing anyone?

Who's knocking on the door outside?

Wilson stared at the door, his eyes unblinking, as if trying to see through it.

Of course, no one could see through the door, and he remembered that the previous evening, when he was in a rented dinghy trying to use the cover of night to slip up to the small island called "Devil's Island" off the coast of Mexico, someone had entered through the crack in the door and an unsigned text message claiming that he knew the inside story of Umbrella's most mysterious Sector 51, and that he wanted to exchange information with him, and that he would ...... tomorrow Today, I'm visiting again.

Could it be that this mysterious gentleman is knocking on the door outside?

Maybe. Of course, it may not be, and it is also possible that it was the police or thugs sent by Qin Lang who knocked on the door. Wilson couldn't be sure, but in the end, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Who's out there?" He asked.

The man outside replied, "I was here yesterday, Mr. Wilson, and I want you to see my note." ”

Is it really him? So Wilson walked over, opened the door a crack, and looked warily at the visitors outside. "Who are you?"

"Charlie. Brown. Messerschmitt casually uttered an improvised name, along with his identity, "the private investigator." ”

"I know the names of all the private investigators in California, no one is called Charlie. Brown. Wilson said. I don't know you. ”

"I only came to California two months ago, and you haven't heard of me, which is normal." Messerschmitt secretly considered whether to kill Wilson now in order to save time—but it could also be a waste of time, because he didn't know where Wilson was hiding. So he decided to continue with this reporter. "I know you, Mr. Wilson, and I know what you're doing. I'm also doing the same thing, investigating Qin Lang's background and origins, so I want to have a serious conversation with you and exchange the information we have......"

"How do I know that you are not someone sent by Qin Lang?"

"Do you think that if I were someone sent by Qin Lang, I would still talk to you at the door, could you please open the door? You should be clear about how they do things......"

The door opened.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Brown, but I have to be cautious." Wilson apologized as he stepped out of the open door and made a "please" gesture, "Please come in." ”

"I understand, Mr. Wilson, that we should all be cautious." Messerschmittt nodded and walked into the room, and then he felt himself walk into a ...... Garbage heaps, dirty, messy, food packaging and empty canning boxes were everywhere, used cutlery was just on the table, stacked on top of each other, flies flying in the air, cockroaches shuttling back and forth between cigarette butts and paper balls, and even better, the couch was so piled with dirty clothes and socks that he didn't even know where to sit.

"You need a hostess." This is a true saying. Then he added in his stomach: "But there is no need for it. ”

Wilson's expression became embarrassed, and it took a while to explain, "I don't have time to clean up the house. As for my wife, because I lost my job and was harassed by Qin Lang's men, I ran away with a bastard a year ago...... By the way, I'll add that bastard is a mercenary from Umbrella. ”

"That's really...... Misfortune. ”

"So I swear that I must find out Qin Lang's secret." After a pause, he continued, "Mr. Brown, you said you knew the secrets of Area 51, right?" ”

Look at the question. Messerschmitt deliberately added some ostentation and smugness to his expression. The secrets of Area 51, apart from a few people, who knows better than him? He nodded slowly. "Yes, Mr. Wilson, I know the whole secret."

"Can you tell me?"

"Please wait." "I can tell you the secret, Mr. Wilson," said Messerschmitt, "but I am here to exchange information with you—what I know and what the other person does not." I can tell you about District 51, what can you tell me? ”

"Let me think about it......" Wilson lost in thought. What can he exchange for the information that Messerschmitt has? It's definitely not someone else's, and you can't use Qin Lang's secrets after he appeared in Las Vegas - these are all easy to find, especially a private detective who can find out the secrets of Area 51. Wilson couldn't even figure out what Messerschmitt hadn't found out yet, maybe he just lacked Qin Lang's mysterious past, but if that was the case, it would be too bad, because he would never say anything about District 51 - but now, that was the news he wanted to know the most.

Wilson decided to resort to heuristic tactics. "Have you been to the Far East, Mr. Brown?"

"Nope." Messerschmitt shook his head.

"I can tell you what Qin Lang did in the Far East......

"If you're going to say that Qin Lang's mercenaries used poison gas against the Spaniards in Manila, I don't think it's a piece of information that can be exchanged." He reminded.

"Well," Wilson sighed heavily, switching tactics, "But, Mr. Brown, you say you know the secrets of Area 51, how do I know you're telling the truth?" And you offered to exchange information with me, so you have to be sincere. ”

"I don't think you know as many secrets as I think." Messerschmitt said harshly, but in reality, he was not sure of this judgment at this time, maybe Wilson really didn't know more information, but maybe he was cheating, trying to get the most out of the least price - he was a journalist, and reporters are always cunning and untrustworthy. Messerschmitt thought about it for a moment and said, "Well, I'll say it first, tell you part of the information, then you tell me part of the information, and then we'll exchange the rest." ”

Anyway, today, Kevin. Wilson would welcome death, and making him cheap was nothing. Messerschmitt thought, waiting for Wilson to consider his suggestion.

He didn't think about it for long. "Agreed." Wilson nodded, carefully hiding his nervousness. "You can get started, Mr. Brown."

"Qin Lang opened a spy school in District 51."

"Spy school?" Wilson paused for a moment, "You're not kidding, Mr. Brown. ”

"Do you think I'm joking?" Messerschmitt asked rhetorically.

"My God!" Wilson exclaimed, "Your message further confirms my inference. ”

"Your inference? What inference? ”

Messerschmitt's problem, however, was ignored by Wilson—not intentionally, but that he had fallen completely into an inexplicable impulse, an indescribable excitement. He left Messerschmitt behind and plunged headlong into the mass of information he had gathered, searching through it, tossing things aside from time to time, and finally finding a diary.

"I spent 10 months in China and carefully studied the history of the country." He waved the notebook, "The history of China is surprising and terrifying, you must understand that Chinese fought wars for thousands of years, all of them were lost wars, but they always relied on assimilation and adaptation to eliminate their own conquerors......"

"It seems to be different from the history I know."

Whatever he had to say, Wilson didn't want to be interrupted, especially by a superficial view. "What do you know about history? Mr. Brown, you haven't been to China at all, what can you learn? Those Chinese, do you know what they think? Of course, you don't know, you don't know what they're thinking: we're great -- that's what they've always thought -- but without the leadership of the world, everybody wants to manipulate us. That's what they think, so what do they want to do? Quite simply, get the leadership of the world. And Chinese have secret societies all over the country to carry out and carry out this lofty goal, like the Boxers, but more secretive, wiser than it, all of which are led by wise men hidden in the bamboo forest......"

"Yes, yes," Messerschmitt couldn't help it, "we also think that the Jews have a secret society that has been secretly operating for more than a thousand years in order to rule the world. Maybe we can get the Jews and the Chinese to fight a total war, since they have the same goals. ”

Wilson ignored the interruption, pretending not to hear the cynicism. “…… Do you know how the Chinese implement their plans? Those wise men allotted areas and let people from different parts of China go to one place as much as possible, so that in the future they could talk locally in the same dialect and establish a hometown association -- Mr. Brown, the hometown association of all Chinese, was a spy base, where the Chinese gathered, sang together, and talked about their great nation. The first time these men served their empire was twenty to thirty years later. All this time, they just hide in corners and peddle rags, learn the language and adapt to the environment. ”

Lose your marbles. Messerschmitt commented, reaching into his pocket with his right hand and holding the glass bottle inside, which was filled with ether. In the end, though, he decided to wait a little longer.

It was at the same time that he decided that Wilson was still gushing about his conspiracy theories. “…… In the United States, though, the Chinese have suffered setbacks in their actions. Despite not being aware of their conspiracy, our Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, which drove the vast majority of Chinese back. Therefore, those wise men hidden in the bamboo forest modified their plans and sent a new executor, Qin Lang, to learn and imitate our habits, disguise themselves as one of us, and then add a little necessary sacrifice to break into us, gradually accumulating his power under the protection of some short-sighted businessman among us, in order to finally subvert our world. We all know that he has reorganized and trained the Chinese who had become overwhelmed by the loss of the leadership of the Fellow Townsman Association into an army, and you find him secretly cultivating spies. Obviously, this is to gather our intelligence more covertly......"

There is some truth to this statement, it is also interesting, and it has useful value. Messerschmitt thought about it, followed Wilson's speech, and asked, "So you have found out Qin Lang's background and history...... You already have the exact evidence, is that so? ”

"Nope." At this moment, all the excitement, all the excitement, all disappeared, and the frustration replaced them, "There is no evidence, there is no evidence to be found at all, Qin Lang's past is completely hidden in the fog." It's just my reasoning, but I believe it's true. ”

"Just inferences?" Messerschmitt hadn't completely lost his confidence, but he was almost there, "Meaning, what you're telling me is just your delusion?" ”

"It's not delusional!" Wilson was enraged by the word, "You don't understand at all, it's true!" Many people in history have warned us to be wary of the Yellow Peril, the most recent being Emperor Wilhelm II! God, for the first time I realized how wise He was. ”

To hell with that self-proclaimed puppet emperor, the German throne will never belong to the Prussian barbarians! Messerschmitt was also outraged: he wasted so much time, and all he stopped at was a bunch of nonsense. Regardless of whether Wilson really didn't find Qin Lang's secret, he had had enough.

Farewell, Kevin. Wilson.

An hour later, the Umbrella company's dedicated dock.

"You're late, Friedrich." Fisborne frowned and stared at the hands of his pocket watch, "What is it that keeps you delayed for so long?" ”

"I was forced to listen to a crazy and ridiculous story." Messerschmitt shrugged his shoulders and handed a suitcase to Fisborne. "Everything is here. The man was in the oil drum, in the wagon. Let your people be careful, it's heavy, I've poured cement. ”

"Of course, I understand." Fisborne took the suitcase and handed it to an agent. "Throw it into the boiler and load the oil drum onto the ship." He commanded, turning back to look at Messerschmitt, "And then, you're leaving for the Far East?" I still don't understand why you're going there. ”

"Because of the war." With that, Messerschmitt left.

Unbeknownst to him, just after he left the docks, an agent he had trained - bald heads in black suits, white shirts, black gloves and sunglasses, and a red tie - also arrived at the docks, and of course, he was even more unaware that Fisborne had a question for the agent.

"Tell me, what did Mr. Wilson say to Friedrich?" (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please log in to the www.qidian.com, more chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!) (To be continued.) )