The sound of the rain outside was swift and thin, like a low but urgent urge, lingering in everyone's ears.

The fog of the city has lifted, and the rain has made the city even more obscure.

No one knows how much will happen in this rain tonight, but no one will think about it either, because this is the fog capital.

In the rain, Lawrence returned to his rental house, and the hallway was cold and damp.

Lawrence doesn't care what his living environment is, though, as he changes his address every once in a while.

Although he has so far been a humble cop, he is often met with reprisals from street thugs.

Perhaps he should also be glad that he was just an inconspicuous policeman, otherwise he would have disappeared from the city long ago.

Standing against the wall of the hallway, Lawrence pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth.

There was a slight tremor in his right hand, a legacy of the last time his hand was broken.

"Smack. ”

With a trembling right hand, he turned on the lighter, the flames flickered, and Lawrence lit the cigarette in his mouth.

It was too cold tonight and he needed to warm up.

"Whew. ”

Taking a deep puff of his cigarette and then spitting it out, Lawrence leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed.

In the old corridor, the fluorescent lamp has not been replaced with a new one for a long time, and it is on intermittently, and it will dim from time to time.

The smoke dispersed before Lawrence's eyes, and he opened his eyes to look at the light through the smoke, holding the slow-burning cigarette between his fingers.

A deep sense of powerlessness enveloped him, and in this city he was like a boat in the sea, unable to change anything, only to rise and fall with the waves.

But the more powerless he was, the more angry he became.

He was so convinced of justice.

From childhood, his father often said a word to him.

Child, whether you can do it or not, someone in this world has to do the right thing, otherwise it will only get deeper and worse.

His father was a very good police officer who died in a gang fight.

Lawrence never grieved for his father, because he believed that his father died because he stood by his beliefs, and that was something to be proud of.

At least a thousand times better than he is now.

In the hallway, Lawrence once again raised the cigarette in his hand and took a deep breath, the spark burning with tobacco, and his pale blue eyes seemed to be thinking about something.

He couldn't change the city alone, he understood it, and he needed strength.

The government is no longer something he can rely on, he can only find a force to rely on himself.

Wudu is the least lacking in power, and there is only one thing he can use to negotiate, and that is the authority of the Wudu police.

It's just an empty title and name, but it also means a lot.

If he can reopen the police building, if he can establish the city system again, he may be able to change something, maybe he will be able to do the so-called justice, at least part of it.

Lawrence understood that he was twisted, in anger that was powerless to change.

But if you can do something just by going distorted, that's great, isn't it?

He needs strength, he's made a choice, and he doesn't have a choice.

Extinguishing the half-smoked cigarette and throwing it into the trash can next to him, Lawrence walked into the rental house with his hands in his pockets.

But what he didn't know, he was chosen, and from tonight onwards, his "justice" had one more choice.

"Squeak. ”

The door to the rental house was opened, probably because of the humid air, which was a little rotten, and when it was opened, it made an unpleasant creak.

Lawrence seemed to be accustomed to such a voice, and walked into the dark room with his eyes down.

"Smack. ”

He reached out and turned on the light in the room, and the light came on, illuminating the small room.

This rental house may only be 40 square meters in size, and the décor is very simple, with a bed, sofa, TV, refrigerator, plus some tables and chairs, and a kitchenette and a toilet.

Overall, although this house is not big, at least there is still something that should be there.

Lawrence was about to enter the room when he stopped.

Because in the room, on the floor facing the door, there was a thing, something that did not belong to him.

It was a black cube of stone, and unlike the stones picked up by the roadside, this stone had a rather delicate relief on it, and it looked like a small craft.

Lawrence frowned and looked at the stone for a moment, promising that he hadn't seen anything in his room until tonight.

Where did it come from, and did anyone enter his room?

Thinking of this, Lawrence put his hand into his arms, from which he took out a pistol. With a pistol in both hands, Lawrence scanned the room as he walked slowly to the stone.

Because the room was small, there was hardly anything to block the view, and after making sure that there was no one else in the room, Lawrence's attention focused on the top of the stone in front of him.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached out his hand and picked up the stone.

"Are you willing to pay the price of your sin by calling an apostle, who will serve you and fulfill your desires and requests? ”

A sudden voice appeared in Lawrence's ears, and he subconsciously wanted to let go of his hand. But after realizing that the stone in his hand was not in danger for the time being, he did not throw the stone away.

Recording equipment?

Or something else.

Lawrence looked at the black square stone in his hand, his brow furrowed.

Could it be that someone left a threatening message?

As a nosy police officer, he has never received a few threatening letters, one or two almost every month, but this is the first time he has received this way.

With the stone in hand, Lawrence walked over to the couch and sat down, and he laid the pistol on the table.

I looked at the stones in my hand, and there was nothing special except for those special reliefs.

"Are you willing to pay the price of your sin by calling an apostle, who will serve you and fulfill your desires and requests? ”

The voice rang to Lawrence's ears again.

Summon?

Ridiculous rhetoric.

Lawrence looked at the stone with cold eyes, he wanted to see what those people could do, he was never afraid of any threat.

Since you want me to summon, then I'll see what I can summon.

He glanced at the pistol on the table, and then at the black stone in his hand.

Lawrence said with a gloomy expression, "Summon." ”

After speaking, in Lawrence's stunned gaze, the stone shattered into powder.