The silver-haired woman came out of the room coughing, and after a pause, she said, "Don't tell me you let him run." Pen %Fun %Pavilion www.biquge.info"

"How could it be. Marcos smiled and spread his hands, since his cloak was gone, he had mummified his strange ghost hands in bandages.

The silver-haired woman looked at the spy lying on the ground, grabbed him by the collar, and said, "Give me the papers." ”

"Hmph, you think beautifully. Out of nowhere, he took out the document and shoved it into his mouth at breakneck speed.

"Damn, spit it out for me, you damn thing. Marcos scrambled to his throat, trying to get him to spit out the papers.

Even in this case, the spy tried his best to swallow the file into his stomach. He began to laugh out loud as if he had won, even though it was he who had been put down. He stared at Marcos and the silver-haired woman, and he said with a smile, which seemed crazy: "You don't have to be complacent, the principality can't change the fate of being ruled by the empire after all." ”

"Then let me see, can you really do it?" Marcos crouched down and shot back in a defiant tone.

"Haha, you stupid man, do you think the principality is just?"

"No one can say what is right, but at least for me, the one who starts the war is the sinner. Marcos gritted his teeth and said that this kind of thing, which would only bring disaster to humanity, would not be what people like him would like to see.

"It's ridiculous, it's ridiculous. So keep it peaceful, do you think this world is a beautiful paradise? When we can swing our swords and kill the enemy as we like, this world will become a better place. The world will only be better if the empire unifies it. The Spy was still laughing, his fanaticism for the Empire making the silver-haired woman on the side eager to kill him with a knife.

"What kind of fallacy are you, the idea that your damned emperor has instilled in you?" Marcos pinched his chin hard, a statement that was actually very infuriating.

The Spy somehow got the strength to pull Marcos' hand away, and he tried to stand up, but the silver-haired woman kicked him down with her foot. He spurted out a mouthful of blood because of this, and this hatred between the two sides made it impossible for them to do anything with a ferocity that could almost kill them.

"It's impossible for someone like you... It's comparable to... Your Majesty Heinrich, you... Just a... Insignificant existence, you this... Poor worm. The spy gasped.

"Maybe, but I don't want to be his kind either. Marcos stood up, not wanting to talk to the fanatic any longer.

The knife pierced the Spy's neck, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he just opened his mouth wide, his eyes filled with pain, and death had befallen him. Marcos looked at the silver-haired woman in surprise and said, "Why did you kill him? He at least has a lot of things we don't know." ”

"Do you think these Imperial lackeys are really going to tell you?" said the silver-haired woman coldly.

"That's ...... too"

"Shut up, if you really want to protect the principality, then do something. The silver-haired woman interrupted him.

"I think I can do something about it, but you ......" All that was left for Marcos was the back of the silver-haired woman fading away, and Marcos's unfinished words were swallowed back into his stomach at this point. He looked at the back, he had never seen such a strong hatred, maybe she really had some unknown and dark past, and it must have something to do with the Delos Empire.

Marcos was a little irritated by the clutter of his thoughts, and he tried to calm his mind as much as he could. He glanced at the Spy's corpse, which was now no longer alive, his dead eyes staring at the sky as if he were looking for a home.

Marcos closed his eyes and muttered, "May you become peace-loving in the next life, rest in peace." ”

After he had done all this, he walked into the room, trying to find some clues that might still be left.

The house was filled with the smell of blood, the dead had nothing to do with the world, the living were still suffering, and the world never seemed to usher in true peace. Wars, mutations, natural disasters are inseparable from people's side, so to speak, the world is a living tomb, this tomb is so big, many people die unnaturally every day.

Marcos held a candle and searched the house for clues. After some searching, he put the candle back on the table in disappointment. The spies left nothing behind, and that's probably how they act in this capacity.

Marcos walked out of the room, he looked up at the sky, the noise around him was still there, but it was no longer a distraction for him at this point. He whispered to himself, "I think this will be the last quiet night, and this time it should be faced." With that, Marcos looked at his mummified left hand, and he had made up his mind to pick up the black knife again, and that was his answer.

Maffeo yawned and shuffled into his room. Although Marcos has not yet returned, he is not at all worried. For him, who grew up with Marcos, this was just another routine disappearance of Marcos. He could even imagine the playful look on Marcos' face when he returned, which belonged to his infuriating personality.

Maffeo lay on the bed, his hands behind his head, and in this tranquil environment, the strange woman of the evening once again came to his mind.

"Marilet......" Maffeo whispered, it sounded like a name anyway, and the doubts remained, who was Marilet, what was she, or did she not exist at all? A series of questions came to Maffeo's mind.

He struggled to remember the woman's movements, and the scene of her stroking the instrument in her hand flashed through his mind.

"I remember her hand stroking that strange instrument all the time when she was talking about Maryret. And when the piano stopped, she also mentioned Maryret. If that's the case, then the instrument ......," Maffeo muttered to himself, though he wasn't sure if he was right, but Maffeo felt that it should be the same. But the question never stops, if it is really as he suspected, then why is the instrument called Marylet? Or does Marylet really exist, but the previous owner of the instrument? ”

He rolled over, trying to make the things disappear from his mind. It was a long process, but he did it, but he fell asleep.

Marcos stood in front of Aiden, who had an expression on his face that said, 'Tell me how it is'.

"That's it, though it's ......," Marcos said again.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't get any useful information from him. Marcos spread his hands, and he looked a little frustrated.

Aiden sighed, then spoke, "Forget it, I guess it should be like this." ”

"So, do you have any holiday with those guys? You don't look like you normally are. Marcos asked, and that's what he'd always wanted to ask Aiden.

"It's nothing, I just don't want any accidents in the principality, after all, I still have to survive here. Aiden was perfunctory, and the indifferent expression on his face hung again.

"Really?" said Marcos, a little skeptical.

"It's true. ”

"Well, I hope it's the best. Marcos nodded, although he still had questions in his heart, he didn't want to dwell too much on it, time would give him the answer he wanted.