The black 2001 version of the Cadillac Diwei reextended bulletproof car made its way through the narrow alley with a dull roar, turned a corner, and drove onto the dark gray road.

This kind of car is also used by the president, because there is another purchase channel, and the money taken out by Don of "Masoye" is only one-tenth of the former.

Dr. Hopkins pulls the curtain, and the dark red light casts into the gloomy compartment, the last vestiges of today's sun, and it involuntarily conjures up images of velvet, blood, and rust. The four faces in the carriage were all illuminated red, like pears or apples soaked in red wine—Chegalle's face tended to be kneaded with fat dough, his face was expressionless, his eyes were as cold as flints buried deep in the ground, his lips buried in fat curled up contemptuously from time to time, and his hands clasped together on his stomach, which was as wide as a table.

"It's time for the devil." Hopkins said.

"What?"

"There is a saying that was very popular in ancient Japan: when the day leaves, the yang energy weakens, and when the night comes, the yin energy attacks. In between, the twilight belongs to both humans and demons - a time in which they can easily appear and disappear, doing whatever they want, with little to no restraint – of course, this is not good for the weaker humans, so they call this time the time of the devil. Hopkins patiently explained, "A moment that is not loved by humans." ”

Chegal raised an eyebrow: "Japan? He muttered, "I don't like Japan." ”

Hopkins opened his hands and made a helpless expression, according to the information he obtained from some secret internal network, the leaders of "Masoye" hated Japan for complete reasons, and in any case, they encountered a very unpleasant encounter when they tried to reach out to the stubbornly conservative island nation fifty years ago - although Japan has similar violent organizations, they have a wonderful belief in the gods of reality and the old people with rigid minds, and they turn a blind eye to the kindness and magnanimity of "Masoye"; And their ideas and methods are fundamentally different from those of "Masoye" - at the very least, the stupid idea that the inferior must give everything to the superior unconditionally and with joy is unimaginable to the members of "Masoye".

The Japanese "Masoye" is like a hierarchical honeycomb, and the "Masoye" can be said to be a patriarchal tribe, or more directly described as a lion pack, as the leader of the male lion can get food without hunting, it has the right to kill the lion cubs left by the predecessor, drive away the male lion who is about to reach adulthood, and let his offspring become the majority of the lion cubs,...... As long as it is strong enough to deal with external threats, deter rivals, and protect entire groups, if it can't, it will be expelled or killed.

In the same way, you can't rob your subordinates and brothers' wives, take their money, and have them work for you for free or even die for nothing – to be sure, the head of "Masoye" is a dangerous and boring job.

The light suddenly disappeared and the car entered the tunnel.

The tunnel was dug in the last century, when the Western Continent was still garrisoned here, and the walls and roof of the cave were unusually rough, low, dim, and only allowed for two cars in parallel, but it was very long, and the small bright spot on the other side of the tunnel was the size of Hopkins' little fingernail.

Hopkins looked down at his watch, and at 5:32, "This tunnel is really deserted." ”

The old lion smacked his lips, "It's hard to say," he said, "It depends on whether there is a makeshift market or prayer meeting in the square." ”

As they spoke, the car reached the middle of the tunnel, and without warning, it began to shake violently.

"Hey." Chegal shouted, but no one could hear it, as the deafening explosion filled the tunnel. Hopkins narrowed his eyes as the scorching waves lifted the black elongated car, and the sturdy vehicle sparked like a bullet from the chamber of gunpowder.

The roof clatters, the rear window glass is covered with white flowers—the plastic sheet attached to the back of the glass can only ensure that the shattered glass after the impact will be firmly bonded to the membrane without bursting and injuring people, but it is not enough to provide further protection, and the force it can withstand is limited - more stones fall down, and the sound is dense, "at most a quarter or even an eighth of a beat." Hopkins said, his nose twitching slightly, with a familiar smell. He unbuckled his seatbelt, waved his elbow, and smashed the glass window – a special little design – to strike from the inside with much easier and simpler than from the outside, so that the occupants of the car could return fire as soon as they were attacked.

Just as Hopkins stepped out of the window, with a dull rumble, the roof of the tunnel nearly a quarter wide fell, and it was like a materialized night, blocking the car directly in front of the car, and the driver screamed in an attempt to brake, the problem was that with almost all four tires hitting the ground, only God could have prevented the heavy bulletproof car from crashing headlong - in a brief but unprecedented violent shock, the recoiled Chegalle was thrown high, "Oh, what a hug!" He shouted loudly and muffledly, and the white airbag swelled like a pufferfish, squeezing the occupants of the car into it.

The young man in the passenger seat immediately fired a shot at the airbag, the airbag retracted with a cough, and the driver pressed the emergency door button, but the door remained motionless, the lights on the dashboard flashed, and there were problems everywhere.

A louder boom was heard, "On top." The driver said, his eyes filled with fear: "O Madonna." ”

Large and small, rocks fell like a torrential rain, burying the entire car in the blink of an eye.

***

The tunnel was still filled with dust and smoke, but those waiting outside had no more time to wait. Although Meyare had been trying to cultivate his power for a few years, and to buy off all who could buy him, there were still many people loyal to Chegalle on the island, and the tunnel was remote, but the loud noise would attract people's attention, and perhaps in a few minutes or so, the first people would come to watch, and they might be stopped by the barricades placed by Meyare and go home according to his orders, but no one could guarantee that there would be no curious fellows who would try to find out.

You can kill "Don" and take his place, provided that at least on the surface you have to do something less conspicuous, especially if your predecessor's "Don" is your blood relative: he shares a prominent surname with you, has been raising you for more than a decade, giving you money, power, and status, all second only to him.

It was a mistake to bring in an unknown foreigner, but it wasn't big enough to make everyone on Poseidon admit what Meyare did, and if he killed Hopkins, people would be silent, but if he killed his uncle and leader for that reason, people would think he was cruel and unreasonable.

This flaw is likely to be exploited by his enemies, so he must be secretive enough.

Taking advantage of the development of the construction industry, he had at his disposal a few obedient professionals, who were extremely skilled in fine and smooth blasting, and at the behest of Meyare, they carefully designed this dramatic demolition game, first the ground in the first half, then the top surface in the second half, and then the overall collapse in the middle, so that the target must be tightly sealed in this natural tomb.

Of course, they wouldn't know that the person they were going to bury alive was Poseidon Island and the surrounding areas/seas, and the uncrowned king with tentacles of power covering most of the Western Continent - the big man known as "Tang".

Only Meyare's henchmen knew who was buried in the tunnels of the black hole, nervous, restless, and excited, their hearts like vultures hovering above a dying animal, eager to go down and peck at them, and fearing that their eyes or wings would be hurt by their last struggle.

"I don't think we need to go in." A young man said, "It is impossible for those inside to live." "No matter how good a bulletproof car is, it can't withstand hundreds of tons of rock.

Toto glanced at him, but said nothing, he made a gesture, and someone ran to inform the excavator that had been waiting next to the tunnel.

The young man was a little shrunken, and everyone knew that Toto was Chegalle's most beloved and trusted thug, and that no less than a hundred lives had been lost in his hands (I mean, the ones he did himself), and now to add his old master, poor Chegalle, who was now Mayare's most beloved and trusted thug.

State-of-the-art excavators drove into the tunnel, and they were so fast that the stones were dug up in buckets and sent to the side.

"Pick up the weapon, I'll shoot at the first order." Toto said, he ordered, while opening the safety of the guns, all of which were large-caliber and aimed tightly at the grave that was about to be dug up.

"I feel cold." I don't know who said that.

No one answered him, and everyone watched the hole intently.

The excavator suddenly dug into the air, and the rocks crackled and fell inside, and the operator was very surprised, even if there was a magician hidden in the bulletproof car, and it was temporarily gone, it should be full of stones.

But now it's a slick cave.

An egg-shaped cavern with a space that resembles an ice cream ball falling on the ground, with its walls, ground, and top surface all bare.

Chegalle stood in the center, smiling at the light, his naked, bloated, pale body exposed to the light, hairless, as smooth as the rock wall, and the swollen part of his stomach wriggled strangely.

"No matter how many times...... Metal and rock don't always taste good," he commented, then looked at Toto, "What do you think, my friend, something else?" ”

Toto took a step back.

"Mayare is right," he said viciously, not knowing whether to comfort himself or encourage his accomplices, "Chegalle is dead, and it is only a devil who has returned to Poseidon Island. He screamed, "Shoot!" Shoot! ”

Mayare's thugs fired, 9 mm, 12.7 mm or 14.5 mm bullets poured into the small space of only a few cubic meters, the fragments mixed with stones danced deadly, the scorching light of the fire illuminated the faces of the people, who were full of hope to see the victims torn into small pieces the size of fingernails, but after the dizzying flashes and loud noises passed, Chegalle still stood still, the splinters of stone and bullets embedded in his flesh like raisins and nuts mixed with bread, and with a fine wriggling they were wrapped in their flesh"Swallowed" and disappeared, Chegal opened his eyes happily, he was clean, and there was not even a trace of dust to be found on his naked body.

"Not good, Toto. I don't like bullets. He said, and then relaxed, his bones seemed to disappear, and his limbs and massive belly fell to the ground, extending and spreading out in all directions, looking like a flesh-colored mushroom, no, more accurately, like a misshapen octopus, because he was able to move, his hands and feet on the ground, the supple edges of the flesh in a wavy shape—towards the crowd.

This time, without Toto's order, the people opened fire, and in the panic someone was hit by the retreating accomplices, who cursed loudly, but did not notice that the gunfire was much more sparse.

Almost all eyes and lights were drawn to the deformed Chegalle, and Hopkins, hidden in the darkness, was able to move the knife easily and gently on one body after another, the trachea and arteries were cut, the kidneys were pierced, and the slaughtered lamb was carefully laid down on the icy ground—until a young man tried to lift his friend—who he thought had only fallen from being frightened, and let out a half-scream.

Hopkins cut off the remaining half of his voice and dived into the darkness again before he could even point his gun at himself.

For a few seconds they forgot about Chegalle, a great man who should not be ignored at any time, his soft body wrapped around the ankles of the humans, and he pulled them down, and the prey they caught smashed with the butts of their guns, cut with daggers, and scratched their fingernails, but whatever it was, they would be devoured by the unimaginably tough flesh that came - no one refused, and the appetite was wonderful.

Finally one or two clever people remembered to escape, and Chegalle and Hopkins did not stop it.

Chegalle's hands and feet, in short, a few slender tentacles grabbed Toto, and the swarthy "hammer" fell to the ground, and he frantically waved his hands and feet, beating the shapeless leather until he was out of breath.

Chegalle didn't make any further movements, he waited quietly until Toto had used his last strength, the light-colored epithelia moved, his eyes, nose, mouth and ears "growing" out of the inner layers like some kind of fast-growing fungus, his dark eyes looked melancholy at his old friend, his old subordinate: "Why, Toto? ”

Toto couldn't see him, the tunnel had returned to its original darkness, there was dust everywhere, his lips and nose were cracked, his mouth was full of blood, and an arm was broken in the struggle, "This is what I should ask you?" He said, "Why, Chegar, why did you become like this?" ”

They were silent with each other for several minutes.

Hopkins wasn't sure if he had ever heard a sigh of frustration (a very rare thing for him), but his eyesight was unaffected by the light, and he could clearly see how Toto was eaten, and the dark, strong man fought until the end.

"It doesn't matter what has become of Chegar," Chegall said sadly, "you shouldn't have betrayed him." ”

(To be continued)