"Bring the kids out." The chief said.

"No need for children," the dean said nervously, "with only six people, we can do this!"

"Really?" The leader said, leaning over to allow the dean to see what was going on in the barn.

The dean had already smelled the sweet and bloody smell of blood before he could see it, and the monks, and the instructors and the captains, all the adults, were gathered in a corner, all with Boy Scout first aid bandages on their legs.

The Dean looked angrily at the leader, who had only been gone for half an hour.

"For adults, it's a routine procedure, and as long as they don't shiver or deliberately miss when they stab them, they won't die." The leader said, "We can just kill them, if you think that's better." He went among the group to examine their wounds, and everyone was wounded in the same place, and the blood was leaking out slowly, not touching the bones or arteries: "This is a man's doing," he said appreciatively, "and it was beautiful."

"Can you tell me who that person is?" He said to the injured people, "I can give him a small reward."

"It's me." said the head of the regiment.

"You're professional."

"Yes."

"I'll tell you what I say, and when we're done," said the chief, "you'll get your reward."

He walked towards the children.

The head of the regiment tried to stand up, but was stopped by the monks and instructors beside him, and the malice in the leader's words just now was full of malice that could be heard by anyone else. Perhaps the best of rash action is that he himself will be killed, and at worst, the children will be included in the ranks of anger.

"I like pretty kids." The leader said to the dean, and began to scrutinize each child, but his decision was made quickly, as if he had already picked it out early on. "You, dark-haired," he said, pointing to Beelzebub, "and you," Sasha. You," Boa. Douglas, "You," Charlie. "You," another Grande student, the last of whom paused for a few seconds, "you." Lila.

"She's a girl." Charlie said.

"It takes a lot of effort to push that wheel," said the dean, "not for girls."

The leader's eyes fell on Lila, who tugged at Sasha's arm tightly, "He's your little boyfriend," he said, "so do you stay here, or do you follow your little boyfriend."

"I followed him." Lila said without hesitation.

"Good girl." The chief said, "Do you have strength?"

"Great."

"Excellent." The leader said, "I hope you are telling the truth, or I will have to beat your boyfriend to death first, and then to you." He glanced at the dean, "Because someone has already delayed me for a long time, it's hard for me to tolerate anyone playing with me again."

When the child chosen by the chief was taken out by the soldiers. The regimental commander looked at them with anxiety and panic in his eyes.

"Wait a minute."

The leader turned: "It's you, oh, do you want to say something?"

The head of the regiment glanced at the gate, "Let that kid come back - whatever you're going to do." Let him come back, and I'll go. ”

"Who?"

"The kid with yellow curly hair." said the head of the regiment.

"Why?"

"He's my son."

The leader stood in place, the lamp at the top of the barn casting a shadow on his face, he was actually a beautiful man with a large figure, and even the field work boots with camouflage jacket and high boots and thick soles did not affect his demeanor. He didn't speak, but beckoned to the regimental commander.

The regimental commander stood up, and this time no one came to stop him.

He was able to get to the leader almost only on his uninjured leg, and the smell of blood became strong.

"You got yourself stuck in the leg?" The leader asked.

"It's not."

The leader looked at the soldier guarding the barn, who patted Glock17 on his right leg and made a gesture to shoot.

The leader smiled. He lowered his left hand and drew his knife.

His knives were a little more ornate than those used by the soldiers, double-edged straight-jump switchblades, four and a half inches long, and handles made of black aviation aluminum. Inlaid with a blue-green abalone shell that floated as if it were covered by oil, when it stuck to the captain's face, the slippery feeling made him want to vomit.

"A profession," said the chief, "is completely different from a child."

He opened the knife, and the blade jumped out with a "click", and the tip pierced the lower eyelid of the regimental commander.

"If that's what you think too, nod."

On the way back to the baptistery, Lila scratched her face.

The sky above the Rio Grande has turned the color of egg white, and it will soon be dawn.

She held Sasha's arm. The boys' room had no door, and they didn't have time to get dressed, so they always dressed neatly Sasha. Hopkins was wearing only a pair of pants and was naked—he thought that Lila's rising body temperature was due to the fact that he was forced to walk quickly, but he immediately remembered that the girl next to him was also a paranormal person, and he looked sideways—Lila's face was red, not the healthy red caused by the surge of blood after exercise, but the abnormal flush that heralded the arrival of the disease—and she also had a very severe rash on her face, which was obviously raised, and she kept scratching it, leaving the next trail of blood.

"What do you think?" Sasha asked in a low voice.

"It's a little itchy." Lila gasped.

Beelzebub was right behind them, and next to him was Charlie, they were just big kids, but they weren't at all despised or relaxed, they were two by two, holding each other's arms, and half a dozen soldiers were closely watching them - there were four indicator holes in the side wall of the magazine of the Famasf1 rifle, from where it was possible to see the amount of ammunition, they were all full, the twenty-five rounds K17 was a pistol that thugs and police loved to use, because its safety device was a reference to a double-barreled shotgun, and the small trigger protruding from the front was the bumper, As soon as the finger pulls the trigger, the safety is also opened, which not only ensures safety, but also increases the speed of shooting, as long as it is pulled out, you can shoot.

If Chegalle. Bisandi is here, and these soldiers can only say that it is a breakfast, but here it is only his son.

In White Salt City. When Beelzebub fell into a state of collapse due to the roses of Elder John, he used to swallow bronze sculptures, lampposts and garbage cans, fire hydrants, and bullets that hit him—just as ordinary people can do things that they would normally be unable to do in a critical moment with an emergency mobilization of adrenaline, and the Adept will instantly increase his abilities to a level that is unimaginable on a daily basis for a variety of reasons—but both situations are equally dangerous for the person concerned: The immense power that the average person produces when their adrenaline is high. At the cost of interrupting other normal physiological functions, muscle fibers are torn, joints are dislocated, pain is absent, stress ability is reduced, and even death is possible; In addition to the above, the Anomalous will get worse, such as Beelzebub, if it weren't for the power of Sasha, it would also be out of control, and the power in the door escaped. He might have broken up into countless small-mouthed, insatiable slimes that would have gone down the sewers to fend for themselves on that rainy night.

He barely regained his human form, and when he returned to Grande, Dr. Hopkins examined him, and he was admonished. For at least a year, you can't use your power to spread the sand until your life is at stake. Hopkins is not going to be able to glue him piece by piece again, into a normal Beelzebub? Bisandi? No one is sure.

Is it a life-threatening time?

Beelzebub couldn't help but sigh aloud in his heart, this was supposed to be a light, pleasant, and simple trip. A rare trip!

The biggest difference between the baptistery of this monastery and other baptistery in other places is that it is not independent, but is connected by a long corridor to the main body of the monastery's cross-shaped building, like a fruit growing from a cross, and the boots of children and soldiers make a huge echo in this closed corridor, booming. Boom, they were brought into the baptistery, and the soldiers made them stand next to the dripping spout of the baptismal font.

Boa. Douglas nervously rubbed his toes against the marble floor, looking around as unobtrusively as possible, and even the walls of the baptistery were marble. In the tradition of Romance architecture, the windows are very high, small and narrow. Beelzebub guessed that he must have regretted that he had not escaped with the help of the power of plants when he had just passed through the olive grove - he did not dare, and when the soldiers had ordered the ape to stab each other, the regimental commander protested, and the soldier did not say anything, but shot him in the leg, and the bullet pierced his leg, and while the others were busy stopping the bleeding, Bao'er took a look, and the hole was almost enough for him to put his fist in!

Real, horrible, valgus skin, yellow fat, nothing like what he saw on TV or in the newspapers, the heroes who were shot would at most leave a big red flower on their shirts or pants, no different from the amount his mother had left on the tampon!

He was frightened, and as he passed through the olive groves, tens of thousands of branches trembled in the cool wind, and they said, "Stir us up, let us grow and thick, and then hide behind us."

Then? Boa could imagine her body being smashed to pieces along with the olive trees, the white cores of the trees spraying everywhere along with her charred flesh — remember how the gardeners at home used their lawn mowers to level the grass, and how the grass clippings were sprayed from the back of the lawnmowers? That's it.

But after entering the baptistery, remorse crept up like a viper diving into the water, gnawing at his heart, and he called to the plants, but the response of the plants was weak, and the earth was too far away from him.

The leader entered the baptistery, and the abbot followed under the watchful eye of two soldiers, and behind the abbot was a tall man who was also caught between the two soldiers.

"Daddy!" Charlie cried out in horror as he saw his father's face covered with blood, with only one eye open.

"This brave gentleman," said the chief student, "he is willing to replace one of you with himself ......"

Boa. Without hesitation, Douglas jumped out of his position and ran to the leader: "Thank you!" He gasped and said, the smile on his face was genuinely bright: "Thank you." He bowed comically to the regimental commander: "Thank you!"

The leader smiled as if he had found it amusementing, and he played with the knife that had just plucked the eyeball out of the commander's eye socket, and said nothing.

The head of the regiment looked up, and the last of his remaining eyes were fixed on Bao'er. Douglas. The emotions in the boy's eyes are ever-changing, joy, doubt, hatred, pleading, fear, pleading...... Pleading, pleading, pleading.

Before he could say any word, especially "no," the leader said, "Well," said the chief, "in that case, go to your place." Hero. Our lucky little ones can go back to the barn. ”

Charlie's face turned pale in an instant.

The head of the regiment walked painfully and hobbled to Bao'er. In the vacant seat left by Douglas, he wanted to look at Charlie, but as soon as the two made eye contact, his son immediately hung his head, and the movement was so loud that he wanted to break his own neck.

((One second to remember)