The avant-garde sat on the sofa and looked at the report in his hand with a solemn expression, and Packa, who was standing opposite her, also had a serious face, as uncomfortable as eating a fly. They glanced at each other, and they both saw helplessness and confusion in each other's pupils, as if they were sympathetic to each other, and the two sighed deeply.

"Has it been determined that this is true information?" Avant-garde took off the frame and put it on the coffee table, and rubbed his somewhat red and swollen eyes with his slender fingers.

"Secretary-General, I have confirmed again and again in the morning that Mercaren has indeed disappeared, leaving no clues." Packa's face was a little ugly, such an unexpected sudden situation occurred, it was the dereliction of duty of his think tank, in his speculation, this was a result that was not expected at all, the other party didn't say anything, just left the foothold that had been entrenched for many years, without regret and reluctance, not even a trace of hesitation, as if he was giving this place away as a big gift. As the Secretary-General speculated, such an opponent would be a complete madman, and there would be no tricks at all to play his cards.

"So he started planning to escape yesterday? Is it? The avant-garde remembered yesterday's gloomy weather, as ugly as her face. In the morning, it was gray with a little drizzle, and in the afternoon it began to pour like crazy, drowning the city in a curtain of rain, and there was a vast foam of water as far as the eye could see, and even the outline of the buildings in the distance could not be seen. No one would have thought that Mercaren would take advantage of such a heavy rain to escape, like a resolute gecko with a broken tail, and he traded this big cake for a chance to continue, like a slippery loach that once again escaped from the hands of the avant-garde and burrowed into the sea without a trace.

"It should be like this, it's my rerequiretion." Paccar hung his head like a guilty recruit, waiting for the instructor to speak. He had not sent anyone to monitor Mecarron's movements, as he believed that the other party would just stay at home and wait for the final decision of the Doge's Palace. What he didn't expect was that Mercarron walked away, and even the forces attached to him disappeared from the map of the Pacific Division, as if there was a planned migration. They fled in a very short period of time, leaving the hunters helpless for the investigating team.

"It's not your fault, I'm also responsible as the main person in charge. No one would have thought of this step, you didn't think of it, and neither did I. With a wave of comfort, she threw the report card on the smooth coffee table top, resting on the soft cushions behind her head, her chest heaving deeply, as if trying to suppress the nameless fire in her heart.

A few days ago, her first confrontation with Mercaren ended in failure, the other party was a husband and a wife to block thousands of troops and horses out of the door, and then the city gate was wide open, thinking that it was a turtle in an urn, and it was easy to grasp the old fox firmly in the palm of his hand, but he didn't expect that it was an empty city inside, and there was nothing left at all. Everything seemed to be under his control, when to be tough, when to retreat, these step-by-step plans were implemented in advance, making the avant-garde feel a sense of powerlessness that he had never felt before. She knew that her opponent was making a big move, but no one could tell her what kind of move it was, and when it would play the role of a general, so that the situation would be reversed in an instant, and it would become the worst thing she wanted to see.

She knew she was in a predicament, but she couldn't find an exit.

"Paccar, why did he do it, why! What is the use of giving up the entire foundation on which you have a foothold so easily! The avant-garde voice gradually raised, and finally it was a complete angry roar. Those inky blue pupils could even erupt with a breathtaking flame. She is never afraid of enemies, but this kind of enemy that you can't fathom or guess is what makes her the most uncomfortable. Every move of the opponent's plan seems to have a deep meaning, but you just can't understand it, like a game between a master and a novice, every move the opponent takes is laying the foundation for a victory, and you look at the chessboard without a hint of understanding.

Paccar didn't speak, just quietly looked at the angry secretary general, this was the first time he had seen such an avant-garde, like an enraged beast, frantically waving her claws to bite, letting out an angry thunder, no one could ignore such a beast. But now she was facing the air of nothingness, and all this futility was futile.

The avant-garde took a deep breath of the cool air in the room, put away the fierce aura like a spear, and rubbed her resolute face vigorously to make it look softer. "Packa, where do you think they're going to escape us?" She looked at the delicate pattern of the ceiling above her head, and her eyes darkened.

"The only place that is absolutely safe for them now is Siberia." Paccar replied in a deep voice.

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An unnamed wooden house in a small town on the border of Siberia.

Snowflakes drifted in the gray sky, silently hitting this bleak land.

In the permafrost basement beneath the hut, Macallen sat on a quaint wooden chair and flicked his wine glass, the deep purple of which shimmered in the warm light and glowed red.

His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning everything around him.

Behind him is a valuable rosewood bookcase, the style is simple and elegant, and the dragon carving pattern is wound on the wooden layer, emitting a terrifying essence. On the side of the cabinet is a wooden staircase fixed to the wall, which connects to the upper floor.

In front of him was a long hardwood table, and on either side of the wide was several antique mahogany chairs, the crimson wooden chairs glittering in the white light overhead, as if blood was flowing in them. Looking out, the walls are white and yellow, and the long-term moisture erosion has made this small basement exude a musty smell, mixed with red sandalwood, exuding a strange smell.

Suddenly, the wall above him fell with dust and sprinkled wine glasses. Macallen frowned, and looked up to find an old man in a gray military uniform climbing down the stairs, the dusty wooden ladder creaking.

"Macallen, I've kept you waiting." The old man walked down the stairs and pulled a chair and sat down in front of Mecarron, the warm light above his head shining on his face, his white forehead hair dangling in front of his deep blue eyes.

"Theodore hasn't seen you in a long time, I wonder how you're doing here?" He placed the glass on the long table, stood up and gave the old man a deep hug, like an old reunion, his eyes shining with excitement.

"You're still the same, you haven't changed at all, and the muscles on your body haven't slackened at all." Theodore patted Macallen's solid arm vigorously and sighed.

"You're getting older, I remember your real age being younger than me." Macallan smiled and sat back on the wooden chair, looking at this old friend, his eyes overflowing with the time of time.

"How can I compare with you," Theodore shook his head, "since I stayed in this barren land, my whole body has gradually withered in this cold and snowy land. There is nothing to see here, only vast white snow and endless cold, and even steel here can only freeze to smithereens. He looked out the window at the scattered snow, and there was only a white patch in his eyes, as if it had frost.

"Then I'm like you now, back to the place we agreed."

"I guess that's the last place you want to be." The corners of Theodore's mouth rose, as if he saw through the other party's nonsense, "Let's talk about it, I think if you don't reach a desperate situation, I'm afraid you will never come to this frozen land near the polar regions." ”

"Indeed, as you said, I am now at my own end." Macallan smiled bitterly, "I don't have the slightest place in the Pacific Division now. ”

"How is this possible, who are you? You're the snake there, and even the Governor's Mansion can't do anything about you. Theodore's eyes widened in disbelief at the Arabian Nights in Mercarron's mouth.

"That's a bygone day."

"The past years? What does that mean? ”

"The current Governor's Mansion is already covering the sky with one hand, and each branch of the ocean only has the share of subservience in front of it, and it will never return to the scenery of the past." Macallen sighed.

Theodore lay on his back in his chair and stared at the yellowed wall for a long time. "And now you don't have anything?" His old lips twitched, and his eyes were full of sadness.

"No, everything we should have taken is loaded onto the freighter, and it won't be long before we can regain the glory of the day here."

"Really?" He smiled helplessly and stood up, his gray uniform glowing like blood in the reddish light. "I'm just an ordinary old man now, I can't do anything, unlike you who still have the motivation to continue. Maybe you're the only one left to continue, and my body doesn't seem to have much time left. He lifted his hand and touched his somewhat bare head, wisps of falling gray hair between his fingers.

"What's going on with your body? I remember you weren't like that. "Mecaren looked at the old man in his twilight, not knowing what the years had happened to him.

"You know bad words." Theodore whispered, the corners of his mouth full of bitterness.

"Knowing that it's an element that we extract from the blood of the deep sea."

"I've taken it." He looked at his wrinkled palms, which were slowly flowing with blood that was close to coagulation. "It was like a demonic contract, which gave me great power and made me what I am now."

"The Devil's Pact? What does that mean? Mecaren didn't understand what Theodore was saying.

"It can enhance your Admiral talents, and the price is life." Theodore's voice was low, his eyes lit up like a deep dry well, and golden light burst out, like a god who had opened his eyes, staring indifferently at the whole world.