Probably because of the urgency of time, Doggett left the room without closing the door.

I stared at the closed door on the other side and stared at it for a long time.

(Dotget, it seems, didn't want me to hear their conversation.) )

I think so, but from the occasional conversation in the room, I can roughly guess why they are worried.

He stepped forward a few steps and closed the door, his otherwise choppy voice completely cut off. Walking to the window of the house, I pulled out the letter, and now maybe I was the only one who could solve this coal burning emergency.

Actually, I'm not sure what's in there.

Maybe it's a good thing, maybe it's a bigger conspiracy, maybe it's ......

I can't imagine what the latter represents, and I don't dare to imagine it.

The original agreement, now that I think about it, it will be difficult to maintain it alone.

The mention of the agreement reminds me of Yani. I haven't seen her for almost a year, and I don't know how this girl is doing?

While Sister ™ Dogette was still talking, I walked out of the room.

Although it was late autumn, the sun was still warm in the yard.

Life in the barracks in the north has always been spent in missions, killings, killings, and missions. Although it has only been a year, this life has already begun to numb me physically and mentally.

Now that I think about it, I'm really scared. From the little girl who didn't even dare to kill chickens at the beginning, to the professional soldiers of the class who don't blink an eye with murderous intentions. I'm starting to understand why other classes are afraid of Sentinels.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and all the birds and flowers came to mind. Until this moment, I felt alive and not the walking dead.

Fortunately, in the courtyard, the other orphans were not there. Maybe it's a class, maybe it's another nun leading a volunteer or something.

That's fine, as a big sister. To be honest, I'm not very good at dealing with the little guys, I'm pestered all the time, and I can't get angry, it's really a matter of grievances.

Taking advantage of this free time, I chose to sneak out. By the way, go back to school and see my dearest sister.

He randomly stopped a carriage bound for the town, which was the kind of cart used to transport straw in the countryside.

You know, late autumn afternoons. Lying on a carriage full of straw stacks and letting the carriage sway with the bumps in the road is definitely a pleasant thing.

Because of the way, the old man who drove the car was very happy to give me a ride after hearing that I was an orphan in the monastery.

Taking advantage of this gap, I pulled out the letter. During this time in town, I might be able to read the letter.

Along the way, the old man who drove the car was very talkative. As a courtesy, I'll reply with a "uh-huh, uh-huh" from time to time, but the main focus is on the letter.

The content of the letter itself is not too brilliant, nor is it flowery rhetoric or polite sentences.

Roughly speaking, when you open the letter, the "deal" has been made. Then please report to such and such a place at such and such a time, and wait for the clouds.

But what surprised me was the letter.

It's not my real name, but I know the mark on it. That's the Sentinel, Loya's marker. (PS: Sentinels are mostly solo soldiers, so each one will have their own unique markings to distinguish between friend and foe and liaison.) ）

In the moment I was distracted, the letter paper burned with a "poof".

It really scared me, because I was lying in a straw pile, and I didn't think about it*. This kind of thing made me scramble and almost screamed.