"It can't be!"

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

"Maurice! Are you sober or not! ”

"The sun's rays have been blocked by us, but even real sunlight can't hurt us! At most, the sun's rays can only do some damage to those blood slaves! ”

The Bat Totem Council, an organization composed of second-generation bloodlines that believe in a hidden existence, is the true mastermind of the entire world.

Because the death of three of the thirteen parliamentarians was enough to shock them, but it was still within the acceptable range of the parliamentarians.

Because they know very well that when a man is killed, he dies.

Although these bloodlines have a lifespan far beyond that of humans, and some of them even have extraordinary abilities, they still have to follow this rule.

If you are killed, you will die.

The rays of the sun can obliterate the lowest blood slaves; The more advanced pure-bloods, once their heads are shattered or their hearts are burst, they still die; Although the most senior members of the Thirteen Councillors were powerful and could still survive even if their hearts were broken, they would still die if their heads or hearts were crushed at the same time.

And the strength of most of the blood clans is only a little stronger than ordinary people, even if they are the thirteen councilors, they can't escape being beaten into SpongeBob SquarePants by a heavy machine gun head-on.

Therefore, they spent a full three hundred years, little by little, erasing the traces of hot weapons in the mortal world, destroying those who could be destroyed, and taking away those who could not, in short, it was impossible to leave this weapon enough to threaten them in the world. Then it took hundreds of years to lay out, dismantling the resistance of the human race little by little, and cultivating the giant beasts that once wreaked havoc on the land, guiding that organization, so that their defense forces would develop on the useless mechas, and never mention the terrifying thermal weapons.

At the same time, efforts to develop extraordinary powers, although with little success, are still a little successful.

The lifespan of the Bloodline fluctuates according to their own strength and bloodline, but most of them cannot exceed a thousand years, and even the most powerful Thirteen Councilors will not live for more than 1,500 years.

As time passes, the blood clan will gradually age, and most of the thirteen councillors have experienced white-haired ghosts sending black-haired ghosts.

And they were the ones who knew best that they could not live forever, because the people who gave them this power told them that if they wanted more, they should sacrifice it.

Whether the long-lived species will be tired or not, the short-born species is unknown, but the time of a thousand years is just a nap event for the real immortal species, and the blood clans transformed from the short-lived species are even more precious to this hard-won life, they desperately want to get more lives, and they are trying to find sacrifices by all means.

But the sacrifices are illusory, they only know that they have, but they don't know how to cultivate the sacrifices, they have been busy for thousands of years, constantly arranging, constantly overthrowing their own layouts, all in order to cultivate a qualified sacrifice and complete the sacrifice.

As Xiao Honglu said, all their efforts are for the greater good.

It's also because of interests, so they can do anything.

But as the millennium mark passed, the thirteen councillors, who felt that their physical condition was beginning to decline, began to be born in despair in the gradual anxiety.

So they began to look for other options, scavenging resources, building cities, arranging descendants, and preparing hibernation pods

And the millennium plan that they have worked hard for a thousand years has become the plan with the lowest degree of implementation.

At first, because this plan could bring benefits to everyone, the Thirteen Blood Clan Councilors put in all their efforts, but now seeing that the sacrifice is hopeless and cannot be exchanged for power, when a person who has begun to plan for his own immortality appears, the unity between them that is maintained because of interests will also be shattered because of interests.

And Morris's words were a huge impact on the blood clans who were already approaching because of the end of their lives.

At least a few hundred years before the end of life, there may be some turning point in a few hundred years.

So the parliamentarians have not yet torn their faces.

But the appearance of weapons that can easily kill them can directly threaten their lives!

All those intrigues, all those cynicisms are gone, and all that is left is the sound of impossibility.

Everything can be faked, only power is true.

The appearance of the sniper rifle frightened them, but it did not touch their bottom line.

If they can't destroy their vital points instantly, the threat of a sniper rifle is strong, but it is not enough to kill. Snipers are fragile again, they have studied for so many years, it is impossible not to invest nothing in their own personal safety.

Rather, personal safety is the second most important research item after life.

On top of that, they can be remotely controlled from the Blood Council, and there's no way that sniper can shoot bullets here anyway!

But the Light

A thousand years have passed, and perhaps they can't remember what their breakfast was when they were still human beings a thousand years ago. But they will never forget the myths they heard when they were still human.

The myths and legends that were famous thousands of years ago have long been buried in the sands of time under their deliberate propulsion, but just like the joke Morris tells, many of them are believers in the gods, and if those gods really exist, they know that they have made the earth what it is today.

"Calm down!" Anfield burst into a shout, and then said: "Morris, you should be mistaken, maybe it's a special technological weapon, just like we speculate about which one, maybe there are gods on the earth, maybe God Jehovah exists, but they may just be aliens from the universe like any other."

"Maybe you're right." Morris didn't contradict Anfield, but his next words made Anfield's face even more ugly: "But I just know that that weapon can easily kill everyone in this room, and that's enough." ”

That's enough.

It doesn't matter what it is, what matters is that it can easily kill them, and that's enough.

Earthling? Alien?

Technology? Magic?

It doesn't matter, it's that it kills them.

Everything is false, but power is true.

There was no shortage of bloods erupting with high-pitched, piercing roars.

"Be quiet! Be quiet! Anfield roared, using the coercion he had accumulated over the years to suppress the chaos: "Whatever it is, we must unite!" ”

"That's right." Morris's expression was rather wonderful: "Unite, all forces, unite." ”

(End of chapter)