A boy had his throat cut out, and he threw away his gun as he fell, and his hands held in vain on the hideous wound, and blood gushed out like a broken faucet; His companion was even worse than him, the wound was very wide, the esophagus was very neatly disconnected from the trachea, the gray-white vertebrae, only about a few millimeters thick of flesh, his head hung straight on his shoulder, crumbling, not so much a cut off his neck as a beheading, his gun fell to the ground, went off fire, and struck his companion in the abdomen. The only thing standing in front of Hopkins was the boy who shouted "Daddy", and the ghoul grabbed him softly by the hair like a panicked kitten—the other hand climbed up from the mandibular branches on either side of the boy, his fingers slender reminiscent of a spider's feet, the palms of which were so large that they covered almost half of the face of his prey, the thumb and middle fingers clasped beak-like protrusions, and the nails were deeply embedded in the elastic and smooth white skin peculiar to young people, and then—it was pleasant and easy, the lower half of the boy's face was torn off.

The whole process was so fast and so quiet that the victim didn't even understand what was going on for a moment, "Say goodbye to your dad." Hopkins said, helping him turn to his father, the part of his face that had been out of place was dangling in front of the Adam's apple, dangling, bones — from the condyle to the mental carina, teeth, muscles, soft tissues, mucous membranes, skin, nerves, blood vessels — three-dimensional, clear and distinct, like a small display stand commonly used in medical school, gushing out, crimson fresh blood with a rich honey scent, wetting the white shirt and the floor tiles of the same color.

The boy saw a face that was hard and cold in the hospital lights.

Perhaps only God could know if the Black Clergyman's pace and thoughts had stopped for a short time—even in milliseconds—but at least in the eyes of others, the new "obstacles" had no effect on him, and the standard 9-foot hospital corridor was wide enough. It was only after hearing a terrible cry - Our Lady on top that someone finally understood what had happened to him...... The priest shuddered involuntarily, from the intestines to the ears, the kind that was one of his favorite boys, and his heir, and because of this, the boy who had grown up to snatch girls from his father, uncle, and grandfather, or great-grandfather, had not been expelled for all sorts of outrageous charges—he was well cared for, fully educated, and cared for more than the other children. He also enjoys some of the privileges granted to him by his father. From the soul to the **, he grew like an apple in a transparent mold sleeve, meticulously according to the expectations of his father and the men of the previous generation. He is about to mature, and the clergy expect to see his future—the unchanging future.

He didn't think about whether the child could still be saved. The center of power in White Salt City would not accept a sinner who had been defiled by the darkness, and the cost of treatment must be considerable, with which he could have remarried a new young wife and have a more perfect and healthy boy.

But the biggest losses have already been done. He had spent sixteen years of his precious time in vain, and the money he had spent on the boy, and his two sisters, the boy's wives, one nineteen and the other twenty-three. I only got married last year, and in Baiyan City, the value of women is very low. And a widow is not worth as much as a she-goat.

Anger is like substance, swelling in the blood of the priest, and he wants to seize the scumbag that ruined his son, whip him, tear him apart. Burn his flesh and bones, and send him back to his hometown. Of course, if possible, the priest would never mind letting him see and feel the hell on earth first, and five hundred years, closed land, rigorous thinking, and harsh education were enough for them to develop a complete and sophisticated system of criminal law.

Anthony. Hopkins darted in front of him, like a slightly sturdy shadow, and like a gray-white bat, through the atrium, and then continued down the hallway, what was ahead? Oh yes, there's a window there, and the thick woods are looking out of it.

On several occasions, the priest almost stepped on Hopkins' shadow, and he followed so tightly and so wholeheartedly that he didn't realize that the two of them were the only ones left in the entire hallway. They're too fast, and. The focus of Strong Jacob is not here for the time being, but the majority of them are ordinary people, who have guns and knives, but only against people who are as vulnerable as them or more vulnerable.

They could already see the window, it was so dark outside, it looked like a mouth with teeth plucked out.

"Saint-Jacques!" The priest cried out the name of the saint in a loud voice, according to tradition, and prayed that his protector would help him to defeat the devil before him, not noticing that he and Don Juan's father (who had called the name of the saint during the war). Hopkins was closer than ever—he caught him—his fingers pierced through his clothes, a large chunk of the soft woolen shirt vanished, and his fingertips could even feel the warmth of his skin.

Incredible! He did catch Anthony. Hopkins.

But it shouldn't be!

If—he means, if everything was in order, the devil's body should have vanished completely at his touch, as if it had been cut into countless small pieces that were indiscernible to the naked eye by an invisible knife—he had chosen not his chest but his shoulder, and that was the reason, the mongrel who had killed his own son was not entitled to a quick and pleasant death.

The clergyman's fingers were not strong and hard, his abilities gave him too much to rely on, he rarely used a gun, he never carried a knife with him, he did not have to do any manual work as a man who received the generous gift of the Lord, and his palms were softer and whiter than most women.

The speed of thought was not as fast as one might think, it was enough time for Anthony to catch the priest's fingers and twist them in the other direction, the ghoul was engrossed in doing it, the great force extended from the fingertips to the arms, on instinct, the priest leaned in the direction that Hopkins wanted, he lost his balance, his arm was lifted by the enemy, his back hit the ground, one foot gently reached over and stepped on his throat, the cartilage ring under the Adam's apple pressed against the trachea, and the air was cut off.

The priest lay on his back on the hard ground, unable to move, the pain and the terrible feeling of suffocation that made him scream like an electrocuted brute.

"I'm sorry," Anthony said. Hopkins politely said, "I think I'm probably going to need a little more meat." ”

***

Before he could open his eyes, Sasha could feel someone feeding him water.

It was a very shallow and small metal spoon, the kind that mothers feed their babies, and the water was warm and salty, and every drop was permeated with a strong rose fragrance, but it was definitely not flower dew, and it did not smell of blood.

Sasha opened his eyes, and the spoon was immediately withdrawn, and he tried to move, his body still in a wonderful, pleasantly tiredness.

The vision in front of him gradually became clearer, and a handsome face appeared in front of him, and the dark gray eyes reflected a small sand. Hopkins, there was no doubt about the concern in it, and there was a little eagerness.

"Do you think it's okay?" asked. He put the cup back on the small table next to the bed, and helped Sasha sit up from the bed.

Sasha's clothes had been completely changed, and at least he remembered that he had never been wearing pajamas made of natural fine linen before he passed out, and the edges of the clothes were closed with small M's embroidered gold threads, and fine folds were contained - although the folds caused by sleep had made them less prominent. He raised his arm and sniffed to make sure he had been washed.

He was still a little dizzy at first, but Heyman had taken the water, which was the one that had just been fed him, and he felt much better after drinking a little more, so to speak, even better than before.

He stood up and took two steps around the room, which had not much furniture, only a bed, a closet, a writing desk, and a chair, the top was especially high, and it seemed a little empty, and there were no windows, and I didn't know if it was day or night.

The color of the furniture, like the wall cladding, is dyed walnut, almost black, which is a bit sombre, and perhaps because of this, there are an unimaginable number of small rounds of roses, only pink and white, the flowers are very fresh, the stamens are golden, and the white petals have not shrunken, there are no broken leaves or fallen buds.

There were no tapestries or paintings on the walls, perhaps because the whole room would have enough of a bed to decorate anyone** - seventeenth-century Venetian style, mahogany, large enough to accommodate three or four adults sleeping comfortably on it, lavishly decorated, four beautifully carved bedposts supporting a purple and black canopy, with a pedestal under the bed, which Sasha stared at for a moment, feeling that it was more of a fine altar than a bed.

I only wish I wasn't the black sheep that was sacrificed, Sasha thought.

. Strong Jacob has always maintained good patience, neither urging nor speaking.

"So," said Sasha, "what do you want me to do?" ”

The light in the room wasn't very bright, but it was enough for Sasha to see Heyman's face, and the expression on his face suddenly became very peculiar, a little sad, a little angry, or rather dazed, with a bit of the desperate hope that belongs to the gambler...... The young elder took a step forward, then knelt down—reverently on his knees, then prostrate himself and kissed Sasha's bare feet.

(To be continued)

PS: Apologies! - I'm sorry, my lords, because the work has been very intense for three months, in addition to the original work, there is also the leader's private residence that needs to be designed and supervised, and almost all the rest time is taken in, maybe because the pressure is too great, and I have been insomnia - I originally wanted to take time to update, so I didn't ask for leave, who knows if I didn't pay attention to it and dragged it to now! I'm so sorry! Next, I will try to strive for at least one change every two days! (It's still a lot of work), but I really can't put it off - otherwise, I'm so sorry for everyone! These four chapters are free, as an apology!