London in the haze.

On the outskirts, the Snowden family mansion.

In the special department workshop, the girl sits on a leather sofa and plays tarot cards by herself, surrounded by bookshelves, and there is an old-fashioned telephone on the coffee table in the middle, in this room she can do anything, the only thing to do is to connect the phone when it rings.

With a salary of 10,000 pounds a month, as a casual student, such a high-paying and easy job is difficult to find with a lantern, but the girl knows that this means that the consequences of making a mistake will be very serious, and about the content of the work, the senior Gao Sheng told her two simple examples of the process of working in the industry before.

The first call he received came from a boy with an uncomfortable hoarse voice, who demanded £200,000 in cash and no money like a kidnapper demanding ransom.

The second call came from a woman who spoke very loudly, her daughter was targeted by the smuggling syndicate, and because she had made a mistake, she did not dare to kill the head of the syndicate, so she had to call the family for help.

Sir Snowden acceded to both requests, with the former having the cash he wanted delivered that night, and the latter's smuggling syndicate being completely crushed by MI5 within three days.

And everything comes at a price, and the information bags of these seekers are all on the shelves around them, and the bags contain a variety of tin coins, and every time they ask for them, Sir Snowden will take one accordingly, and the source of the tin coins is based on their past contributions to the family.

To put it simply, the sinners exchange the merits of the past for the future, and for the family, they repay the past with the help of the future.

"That's what it means to have a price."

The girl recalled the family motto spoken by Sir Snowden when she first met him, but she did not listen very carefully, and her attention was all drawn to the handsome appearance of the middle-aged sir.

Suddenly, the phone rang, and the girl woke up from the memories with a dazed and excited mood in her heart, this was the first time she had coped with work.

"Very serious consequences."

Thinking of this, the girl hurriedly picked up the phone.

"009 document bag, take it down and count the tin coins."

The voice from the other side revealed a weakness, but the tone was full of toughness, like a wounded beast roaring at danger.

The girl got up and took the 009 document bag as requested, and when it was opened, there were five tin coins inside, which meant that the other party could take at least 1 million pounds in cash from the family.

"The first one, exchange of the right of first refusal."

"The second one, in exchange for a stay at a Dorchester hotel."

"The third, exchange for a standard A-class weapon case."

"Fourth, exchange for an evolutionary pill."

"Fifth, exchange for a handmade suit."

The phone hung up, the girl's eyes were complicated, the so-called priority of execution refers to the abandonment of the reporting link to the superiors, and directly notify the departments to start the operation process, and the Dorchester Hotel is one of the important properties of the family, and the occupants will be protected by Sir Snowden, which is called death immunity by the half-breed world, and it will not exceed three days at most.

Instinct told the girl that there was something strange about this time, and although Sir Snowden could quickly detect anomalies based on the operation of the department, there must be a time lag, and the obvious conclusion was that the other party did not want Sir to know about what happened in this gap.

But the rules are here, and she is not sure of the consequences of her disobedience, and she may be executed internally if she rashly reports it.

"Everything has a price." The girl said silently.

……

Night falls.

Next to Hyde Park, outside a towering upscale hotel.

The stout young man strolled through the streets, holding a cup of black coffee in his big bulging hands, and a cross sword tied to his back, in a rather unusual style.

But passers-by only looked at it twice, because the young man had a sunny and gentle smile on his lips, and his eyes did not hide his joy, and people thought that he was a dedicated participant who had just come down from the London secondary comic con, after all, he was too calm.

Wiglaf looked up and poured the black coffee into his mouth, staring at the Dorchester Hotel not far away, the prey at the end of his life, thinking that he could use his latent identity to get a respite, and that he was only worthy of being a pure-blood's waste.

"Snowden's asylum, what's that?"

Wiglaf walked to the hotel door, the word asylum making him almost want to sneer.

At the door, the attendant politely said, "Sir, please show your invitation." ”

Wiglaf drew his Giant's Sword and said nonchalantly, "This is the invitation. ”

"Please don't be kidding." The smile on the squire's face vanished.

At the same time, several half-bloods in the hall rushed towards this direction.

"When hunting dragons, no one dared to stop Beowulf."

Wiglaaf's right arm suddenly became thick and strong, and the bronze color appeared, and the golden hilt of the Giant's Sword suddenly burst out with a dozen sharp thorns, wrapping around the palm like thorns, and wriggling back and forth, slowly sucking the blood of its bearer.

The cross sword, known as the glory of blood, seems to roar angrily, becoming several meters long in the blink of an eye, the sword is broad, and the bright red water light vibrates and flows, with the race of the sea and the king of water as the main material, this sword has a powerful cutting ability.

With a swing of the sword, the gate shattered, and the sword wind easily broke through the wall, cutting off the attacking half-bloods.

The blood converged against gravity on the greatsword, making it redder and redder, and Wiglaf made a beeline for the hotel, not avoiding the corpse, his heavy footsteps crushing the squire's skull.

The golden pupils were blazing bright, and the security personnel who witnessed this scene in the monitoring room seemed to have been hit head-on, and the low-blooded could hardly even stand firmly, in the half-blood world, the bloodline was a strict and cold class.

Following the guidance of Glory, Wiglaf walked up the stairs to the top floor, where the prey stabbed by the Giant's Sword would leave a mark until the death of the requisition, cutting and recovering two sets of alchemy matrices, undoubtedly from the hands of the master alchemist of the smelting and casting department, which has a history of thousands of years.

Instead of suites, the top floor is a number of large meeting rooms dedicated to organizations on the verge of collapse in order to squeeze a handful of rewards out of a desperate situation, and the city lights are reflected in a row of floor-to-ceiling windows that provide a view of the mighty hunters.

As soon as he entered, Wiglaf smelled the pungent smell of blood, and the prey fell to the ground, as if he had been brutally interrogated, and his killer was dressed in a black robe, and now stood beside him, a drop of blood falling from between his claws.

"Looking for death." Wiglaf squinted his eyes and said, two male lions met on the grassland, of course, it was impossible to thank each other for killing the prey for him, and the result of breaking into the territory was only fighting.

Blood fell again, the sound was as piercing as a gong, and both sides charged at the same time.

The blood-glowing giant sword slashed into the flesh and blood of the enemy, and a clear sense of paralysis was transmitted from the blade to the palm of his hand, and Wiglaf's pupils widened slightly, this was definitely not the skeleton of an ordinary half-blood!

(End of chapter)