I stood in the shadow of the alley and looked out at the bar, with a marquee running around the signboard and the bustling lights on the side. The city shrouded in darkness, the streets that have died down, and the lights that are surrounded by loneliness.

Men and women hugging and laughing at each other, both burly guards and parking attendants in crisp uniforms, centered on the door of the bar, patrolling every face that appeared in view with a vicious and cautious gaze.

All the guys who are not good-looking and suspicious in their outfits will be quickly driven away with the action of trying not to alarm the others.

It was the first time I had seen this kind of scene outside of TV.

There is no real feeling for it.

We are divided into two worlds by shadows.

The distinction is clear.

The only ambiguity is in the shadows.

The quark landed on top of the air-conditioner on the outside of the wall, its pitch-black feathers appearing in the neon light.

No one noticed.

I turned into the alleyway of my memory, the bright light seemed to be blocked by the invisible diaphragm at the entrance of the alley, and there lurked an uneasy silence in the huge black shadow, silently refusing any curious visit. Figures swept past the entrance, as if the alleyway was another world out of place.

The walls are mottled, and rusted iron ladders hover over the wall on the other side. About five meters further in, there are mountains of black garbage bags.

I saw the back door that the mountain had entered, covered with iron and looking like it was abandoned, with malicious graffiti painted in chalk by someone.

There was no handle in sight on the door, just an inconspicuous keyhole and cat's eye.

No camera found.

I stuck to the wall on the side of the lock and reached out and knocked on the iron door.

The slight sound of footsteps came up from the door, and he couldn't see anyone, so he was silent again.

Knock on the door again.

There was movement again.

Knock on the door for the third time.

Someone muttered vaguely inside, and said a few words to the other people in a frustrated manner.

Fourth knock on the door.

The iron door was pushed open with rage, and a tall man poked his head out sideways. I lifted my hood to meet his gaze. The man's movements froze suddenly, his eyes widened, and the facial features on his face distorted into a terrifying appearance.

It's just a second's of what happens.

I reached out and grabbed him by the throat, and before he could react, I pulled out the dagger from my waist and stabbed him in the kidney. He grabbed my arm, and I could feel the energy draining through his trembling body. I leaned close to his face, sniffed his bloody breath, and stared into his eyes, as if the lost life force was entering my body through some mysterious channel.

My body is hot.

I'm calm.

I know what I'm doing.

This man is so athletic.

But it doesn't take much force to kill someone, it just needs the right timing, the right place, and the right weapon.

Thinking and judging far beyond the depth and thickness of other life forms is the origin of human power.

I pulled out the dagger, and blood gushed out of the man's abdomen, quickly staining his tight black vest, and before he fell to his knees, I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him through the door, hiding myself in his body and walking in.

Men who are not yet dead seem to be going backwards.

The strange posture made the people in the room let out a suspicious laugh and curse.

"What's going on?" Someone asked.

There were three voices, and I pushed the man toward the one with a serious, serious voice.

"Hey, hey, what the hell are you doing......" the voice was interrupted like a duck choking its neck.

I stood in the swirling colored lights of the room staring at them. There were indeed three people, one standing by the opposite door, wearing a crisp uniform with a walkie-talkie pinned to his waist. The other two are burly and strong men, dressed as thugs, one is lying on the sofa listening to headphones, and the other is cooking instant noodles.

What a cosy place.

The man who was stabbed fell limply in the arms of the man in uniform and spasmed from time to time.

They seemed stunned.

"Good evening." I raised my left arm, and the crossbow fired a short arrow, which hit the throat of the man in uniform, and the walkie-talkie fell to the ground and made a noise of electrical feedback.

The other two men jumped up like frightened rabbits, one pulling out a dagger and the other throwing off a stick.

The man on the couch closest to me was playing with a knife and rushed up first, swinging his dagger like a desperate one.

Maybe he thought he could deal with me alone, but I didn't agree.

I leaned back slightly, easily dodging the flash that slashed through my throat and kicked him in the shin, the blade that popped out of my heel and plunged into his shin.

The couch man let out a scream like killing a pig, and his body was shortened, revealing the instant noodle man hiding behind him.

The baton slammed into my face with the sound of the wind and smashed against my raised forearm, making a metallic crash.

A strong burst of electricity burrowed along the arm into the body.

The muscles trembled uncontrollably, the pores tightened, and the paralyzing sensation penetrated deep into my internal organs, and I almost felt like I was spewing blackened gas when I breathed.

There is a suction force that makes it impossible for the arm to be easily separated from the stick.

If it were an ordinary person, it would fall down with one blow, but this body broke away with all its might.

Taking a step back, the residual current leaks down the soles of the feet into the ground, and the force is quickly revived in the body.

The couch man prostrate himself at my feet, daggers stabbing into the upper of my shoes. The couch man walked around from the side, bending over like a poisonous snake waiting for an opportunity.

The dagger made contact with the upper of the shoe as desired, but it was blocked by the reinforced iron sheet, and when the sofa man was still surprised, I kicked him in the throat, and he curled up on the ground and couldn't even cough.

The instant noodle man pounced, but threw his stick and ran towards the door behind him.

I dodged the slingstick and fired a crossbow bolt through his neck from behind. The man stumbled and fell on the door, his sliding body drawing bright red graffiti on the door.

I picked up the stick and found that there was a button on it that energized, and I pressed it, and the stick made a sound of bang, bang, bang.

As a trophy, I stuck a stick into the belt of my trench coat.

I grabbed the couch man by his short hair and dragged him to the edge of the couch, where he let out a hoarse wail with slurred speech.

I sat on the couch with the man crawling on the ground like a dead snake, and I pulled his head up and stared into his eyes. His constricted pupils and painful expression all showed his fear.

Dark shadows flew in through the half-open iron door, and the room was filled with the sound of flapping wings. ,

Quark deftly landed on the man's shoulder, turning his head to meet him with glass-beaded eyes.

When it blinked, its eyes flickered black and white, and the man's body trembled as if he had seen a monster.

"Where's the thing?" I asked deliberately vaguely.

"What, what?" He struggled to spit out his words.

The wounded throat made his voice as hoarse as charcoal.

"I know the big things. I know who you are. I allowed myself to smile kindly, but I saw a terrible reflection in the man's eye.

I'm not me, but a devil with a face.

Weird, hideous, terrifying force.

"It's better to tell me honestly, because when I'm upset, I'll ......cut off your ears, nose, lips, and fingers," I said, lightly tapping the said organs with my dagger, like a craftsman savoring my own craft, "and cut them all off." We have plenty of time, don't we? ”

The sofa man's facial features were distorted, and he struggled desperately, but he couldn't even turn his head with the strength of his strength.

"To prove that I am an honest person, so I ......"

I swung my dagger, and the cold light flashed from the side of the couch man's face, and the thing fell on the floppy red carpet, and I kicked it away. Quarks flew by, pecking at the swirling light and shadow.

The couch man let out a weeping wail again.

"Rao, spare me, please spare me, I'm just a ...... to do it"

"It's okay, tell me what you know."

So he trembled, in a hoarse voice, and told me what he knew.

This is a branch of an organization that calls itself the "Goat Guild", and probably only entered the city earlier this year. They brought a rare batch of psychedelic drugs, but they did not enter the market with great fanfare, but acted in a very inefficient single-line mode. They sent someone to screen and contact customers who met the criteria, giving them the first potion for free, and once they took the psychedelic drug, they became believers. After that, the only way to get more psychedelic drugs was through other channels.

The effects of the psychedelic drug called "Paradise" are significant and unique, and its addictive and psychedelic effects are not fixed, but are significantly enhanced by the expansion of personal stress, insecurity, dissatisfaction, and emptiness. Therefore, most of the guests are sociopaths, stressed staff, overloaded students, confused gangsters, and so on.

Some people who take psychedelic drugs are able to exert powerful powers that do not match their original physique, and they can become violent. These people will be groomed to be members of the internal special forces.

The organization pursues mystery and security over efficiency, and believers and members are divided into two separate systems, believers pursue faith and contributions, and members seek money or other tangible rewards. The couch man was not a believer, and the few people killed in this room were not believers, just low-level thugs in charge of guarding the door.

Luan Zhong is a believer, and the sofa man has no way to ask about him.

"I heard...... I heard that ......" the couch man gasped, "This is a global organization, and some customers are government officials. ”

He bared his arm and let me look at the tattoo on it with the help of the light, which was the hallmark of the organization.

It was a logo modeled after Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece Vitruvian Man, except that the human head became a curved goat's head.