"I thought you'd go back to your room first. ※ Kai ~ Meng ~ book ~ net, more ~ new ~ most ~ fast!. ※ Beelzebub said that he consumed a lot of champagne and beer today, and maybe a little ouzo, which was brought into White Salt City by their team doctor in the name of medicine, and the beer was the private possession of a certain team member, but fortunately it was not discovered, or it was discovered but was silently raised and let go because they were outsiders after all, anyway, this competition is also very important for White Salt City - the observers of the Aleutian state government are watching their every move closely, Even after paying twice as many taxes as other cities, there were still many in the state government who were dissatisfied with the self-isolation and isolation of White Salt City, and they were bent on cutting through the thick barriers that the saints and elders of the overseeing sect had painstakingly erected for five hundred years, tearing the masks, opening the boxes, letting the inside out, and letting the outside in—a thought and voice that became so sharp that the current saint Jared had to back down a little.

Rugby is one of them, and they have to make it a success, so that it can be a happy and healthy scene, and those MPs will be happy about it, and maybe a little bit ...... More sense of accomplishment? It's not easy to dig a hole in the sturdy defenses of White Salt City, and God promises it's not too ugly even if it is written in the nomination sheet for the presidential election - the monks and nuns of the supervising sect make up only two percent of the religious system in the Western Continent, but it is better because its tentacles are long enough and its influence is far enough that even the Eastern Continent, which has always been cautious about religion, has its followers, and the number is no less than that of the Western Continent.

That's mouthwatering enough.

"We'd better stay in the same room tonight." White Salt City was really welcoming to them, a whole brand new little inn, all of them were Grande's, each room was still free, and at all times, there were young men in white shirts and black trousers walking up and down the corridors. They are waiters, and basically, they are met as long as they do not violate the requirements of the supervising sect.

"Yours, then, or mine?" Beelzebub paused, twisting his neck lazily, "Do you have coffee and tea anywhere?"

"There's coffee." Coffee and tea are also taboo in the supervising sect, Beelzebub is not the kind of person who will remember to carry these knick-knacks, and the refrigerator and supermarket in the hotel room, the small shop only have mineral water, juice, chocolate and milk.

Only coffee powder is sprinkled with sand, and White Salt City does not sell coffee. Of course, there is no mention of the Brown Bean Grinder, which is made from Panema's new beans, which are vacuum-packed immediately after grinding. It will not affect the aroma and taste of the air if it comes into contact with the air.

"How much sugar do you want to add?"

"You're good here," said Beelzebub, "and there's a kitchen." Sasha bent down and took out a lemon from the fridge and a glass teapot from the base cabinet, "Greek coffee?" I've been spending a lot of time with this friend who is sometimes picky and harsh enough. Beelzebub, who was as rough as a stone that had just been split from a mountain, had to acquire a great deal of knowledge in this or something: "Give me three times as much sugar, and no lemon peel oil."

Indeed, compared to the others, especially Beelzebub's small room, which could be said to be open-minded, the room for Sasha was a bit extravagant, with a reception area, a study, and a kitchen. Separate bedroom, bathroom with bathtub and delicate silk rugs hanging from everywhere. The images on the silk carpet are all related to the biblical story, and on the silk painting hanging on the wall facing the bed, the shepherd is tending to a flock of white lambs, the golden sunlight shining down from above, and a circle of light with thorns forming behind his head.

The middle-aged brown-haired man with a calm face held a pastoral staff in one hand. One hand is outstretched, and the lamb is licking his hand. There's something in that hand. But not grass: "What are they eating?" He asked casually.

"That's salt." Sasha said that the ground coffee powder, which was as fine as flour, boiled in the transparent pot, and he deliberately put a little more coffee powder, the rich liquid was black and viscous, and when he poured them into the cup, it was like a hot, bubbly mire.

Five hundred years ago, the area where White Salt City was located was an extremely barren and hot barren land, with bare mountains, no woods, and red and yellow dry dust everywhere, and no one cared about it, and it was for this reason that the original Overseer Sect was able to gain a foothold here, and they had a hard time in the previous ten years, until the saint Jared was once again inspired by an angel - he took his followers outside, pointing to those bitter and salty things that seemed to spring out of hell, Water that could not be used to drink to man and livestock, nor to irrigate wheat and vegetables, said, "This is the blessing of the Lord."

It's brine, and although it can't be drunk, it can be dried into salt, and it's also a good quality table salt.

Salt thus occupies a very important place in the overseeing sect, and when the monks of the overseeing sect celebrate Mass, the communion of the participants is not only bread, wine, but also salt.

"Thank you." Beelzebub took the coffee, Greek coffee is not filtered, even if it has been left for two or three minutes to precipitate, there is still some fine dust in the liquid, the coffee with triple sugar tastes sweet and coarse, quite suitable for the taste of Beelzebub, sprinkle sand and cut half a lemon, the lemon peel is smeared along the mouth of the cup, and then gently twist the lemon slices, wait until the dripping juice and the coffee foam are dissolved, and then throw the lemon slices into the cup, this is the authentic practice of Greek coffee, but Beelzebub does not like sour drinks, The sour taste of the coffee can only be said to be within the tolerance range, but he really doesn't need more.

"That's good," said Beelzebub, who didn't ask for lemons, but could still smell the fresh fruit aroma of lemons mixed with the rich aroma of coffee, "We can still do a divination." With a stomach and tongue that surpassed ordinary people, he quickly drank the coffee and turned the cup upside down on the plate.

"Better not," Sasha said nonchalantly, "I don't think that will end well."

"Come and see?" Beelzebub lifted the cup: "What do you think this is?" A flower?"

Sasha wrinkled his eyebrows, and he sat face to face with Beelzebub, who looked like a flower, and who looked like a black sheep.

Like 90 percent of the skyscrapers built in the first century, the three-story building occupied by the Grande has a powerful ventilation system that seems redundant, with cobwebs of pipes lining the ceiling and walls, and air outlets in inconspicuous places. A steady stream of fresh air is being poured into the room. There is always a slight scent of roses in the air – the air handling equipment is installed in the ventilation system room, connected by ducts, and the essential oils that are atomized in the equipment are diffused in each room.

An aluminum jar of essential oil replenishment was pumped out and replaced with a jar of salted water, i.e., holy water. Elder John stood beside the machine, his left sleeve rolled up, and a monk had washed his entire arm with holy water, and in his right hand he held a silver knife that had also been washed with holy water, and after receiving the signal, he pointed the finger of his left hand to the aluminum jar containing the holy water. The knife in his right hand sliced the wrist of the other hand, and the silver knife was so sharp that it pulled out a narrow but three-inch-long wound in one fell swoop. Elder John immediately put his fingers together, allowing his blood to flow down the shape of his palm, dripping down the aluminum can along his fingers.

The air suddenly filled the air with the scent of roses, very strong, but just like the real roses. The aroma is not at all too rich to make people feel irritated and uncomfortable, it is an intoxicating and obsessive smell.

Those present, except for Elder John,. Strong Jacob was also there, along with four monks, two of whom were about the same age as Elder John. Although they had drunk holy water laced with Elder John's blood as a precaution, they could not resist the temptation - they couldn't help but take a few deep breaths, particles so fine that they could barely catch them pass through their noses and into their lungs. Carried by the blood and spread throughout their bodies, it didn't take long for them to feel light, their feet unable to grasp the ground, and their backs were hot. It was as if wings had grown, and a bright white light enveloped them. The gates of heaven were opened, and the saints of the ages, Jared and the angels, came to greet them, smiling, and drenching their bodies with melodious songs and sweet tastes...... Their heads, arms, and knees drooped, their muscles limp, their eyes closed, and they fell loosely like a soaked pouch of flour, and their heads hit the hard concrete floor with a loud noise, but the other four people present—Heyman, did not move, nor ordered, nor did John and the other two younger monks, nor did they move, nor did they speak.

stood upright, expressionless, his eyes filled with a cruelty and indifference that transcended human nature.

"People who are not firm enough." He said softly, raising a hand to stop the monk who wanted to medicate Elder John: "This is not enough."

Elder John bowed slightly to him, and without hesitation, cut the wound that had stopped bleeding again.

Blood flowed into the jars, and machines hummed to work, sending a mixture of rose-scented blood and holy water to the rooms.

"What, is there a problem?"

"Nope." Anthony. Hopkins said, standing up, "but I have to get out of the way." ”

"But the results aren't all out yet." The doctor from Baiyan City followed and stood up: "If you're feeling a little tired, we have a rest room here."

Hopkins looked at him like a snake staring at a frog, a cat staring at a mouse, more precisely, like a cook looking at a chicken; The doctor's words and blood froze at once, and the "ghoul" had a pair of noble and charming blue-gray eyes, but only those who had experienced it knew that his gaze and smile were just as terrifying, if not more so.

A hand suddenly grabbed the doctor's face, crushing his cry in his mouth, and at the same time raised his jaw so that his throat was completely exposed, and a paper-thin knife between Hopkins' fingers slid gently down the base of his ear—the "ghoul" hadn't used a knife for a while, but he was quite skillful in his work—and he made a long, thin cut in the doctor's neck, so that the blood did not spurt out, but gushed out without a hurry.

The doctor's eyes were wide open, barely protruding from their sockets, and with a little bewilderment, he twisted his body to lift his hand, hold his wound or pull away, but Hopkins' knife pierced him in the eye, one in the left and one in the right.

((One second to remember)