The picture is poor, see you.

Lorraine knew the reason why the villain died of talking too much. Under normal circumstances, he shouldn't talk so much gossip with Morey before he took control of the situation.

But right now is a small space. They are being pointed at their heads by four guns. If they don't need to buy a moment for themselves with words, all Lorraine can count on is that the Spaniards have no bullets in their guns.

How many possibilities are there?

No matter how many there are, Lorraine dare not make a joke about his life at all.

And now, the preparations are over, and the bluffing words have successfully fulfilled their mission.

Henna suddenly disappeared.

A moment ago, she was sitting on her sofa, pressing her legs on her side like a real lady, and folding her hands on the big skirt.

The next moment she was gone, and only a black skirt that was shaking slightly was left on the sofa.

Henna got out of the untied skirt like water, she slid down on the carpet, her hand was raised, red light suddenly appeared, and the flying knife pierced the throats of the two guards in the blink of an eye.

Lorraine violent at the same time, maintaining the posture of leaning forward and talking, and threw out the ashtray on the coffee table as a hidden weapon.

No one knows how much force he used.

The thick crystal glass made a whining sound in the air, and it hit the face of the current guard like a comet hitting the earth. Blood, brain plasma, and all kinds of strange slurries were sprayed out, and the guard planted on his back without a word. On the contrary, the red and white dirt splashed all over the foolish Morey.

Only one of the four gunmen blinked.

In front of him, Lorrain threw out the coffee table like a leopard, and Henna swam closer from the carpet like a snake. And Barto, who reacted slowly in the first half of the shot, grabbed his hand and took out the short gun in his waist, twisting and aiming imposingly, instead he became the most intuitively threatening target on the scene.

The bewildered guard moved the barrel towards Barto subconsciously, and suddenly a black light flashed under his eyes.

Henna leaped up from the ground, and the short knife held upside down slashed across the guard's left shoulder, and blood splashed out.

The guard's left hand suddenly lost strength.

He first saw the black shadow of Henna from the bottom of his eyes, and then glimpsed the bright red of the blood mist from the outside light. The third signal that the brain received was the weakness of the left hand, and the entire left arm was hanging weakly, and the barrel that had been lifted was naturally aimed at the ground.

Only then did he realize that he was injured.

The severe pain came from the wound on the left shoulder, and the guard just wanted to scream. His mouth opened, and Lorraine, who was only one step behind Hina, pinched his neck and twisted it slightly. He only heard a click and screamed and died.

The battle ended suddenly.

Morey didn't know whether this so-called battle lasted three or four seconds. In short, Lorraine's words "Unfortunately no prizes" hadn't landed, and the situation in front of him had completely changed.

Those are four shooters!

He is well-trained with live ammunition. They were Morey's true confidants in the civilian army, and each of them, like him, led another more decent and more honorable salary in the Mediterranean Fleet.

They are non-commissioned officers of the Spanish Royal Navy, the elite of the Marine Corps, and the militias outside who can only serve as tax collectors are completely different species.

But……

But God! What kind of monsters did Major Mara provoke? Was it a weapon for killing?

Why did the world change in the blink of an eye...

Horrified, horrified, horrified.

Feeling something slipping off his face, Morey subconsciously wiped it, only to wipe off half of his broken eye.

"what……"

"Hush." ​​Lorraine stood in front of him at some point, holding the guns that the guards had fallen to the ground in one hand, and holding the index finger in the other hand, gently pressing on his lips, "I'm trying to figure out something. Before, I hope you can be quiet. This is good for everyone."

Morey was silent.

He sat on the sofa at Lorraine's request, and the mighty Batto stood behind him, holding a musket against his head, so that he could remember the uncooperative end at any time.

Opposite him, Lorraine knocked the barrel of the gun lightly, knocked twice, knocking out scattered gunpowder and round lead bullets, and every handle was like this.

This result seemed to satisfy Lorraine.

He threw the gun away, stood up and checked the curtains and windows. He also looked outside the house through the glass for a while. In fact, it was the situation of those black-and-lighted auxiliary buildings.

After five long minutes, Lorraine returned to Morley and sat opposite Morley across the coffee table.

"Well sir, we finally have a more suitable communication environment. Now please tell me, where is the arsenal?"

Morey resisted the urge to beg for mercy, picked up his last arrogance, and turned his head resentfully. But Lorraine just stretched out his fingers and turned, Barto's big hand quickly turned his head back.

"You are refusing to communicate. That's not good." Lorraine said slowly, "Don't forget that when your guard pointed a gun at me, I did my best to cooperate with your questioning. I think this is what The grace that a gentleman should have."

"Unexpectedly, a person like you with **** hands would call himself a gentleman!"

"A gentleman and blood are not in conflict, Mr. Morey. The Spaniards have opened a great era of great voyage. The predecessors who spread the light of civilization to the new world are gentlemen, and everyone's hands are stained with blood."

"That's just the blood of a beast!"

Seeing Morey's high-spirited appearance, Lorraine sighed regretfully.

"It seems that we really lack a common language on the issues of human rights and equality, so...speak out the method of entering the arsenal, otherwise I will let you live to see the hell."

Straightforward what is the most effective...

Morey's aura fell short, arrogant lacking self-confidence support, became hollow and weak.

"You...you dare not. This is a military camp, an officer's barracks. In such a spotlighted place, you absolutely dare not torture me!"

"Is it?"

Lorraine frowned impatiently, stood up, and pulled out a bottle of Cuban white rum from Morey's cabinet.

"I just spent five minutes confirming some things, some doubts, do you want to know?"

Morey pursed his mouth and responded with silence.

"First, the weapons brought by your guards are loaded, the hammers are also ready to fire, and at least one of the four has indeed planned to shoot."

"This shows that you are not worried that gunfire will cause commotion."

"As for the reason, there are only two points. Either this room has special soundproofing measures, or you have an eye-opener in the camp, and you can murder visitors as you like. I prefer the former."

"You have been lurking in the Civil Army for five years. You originally needed to have a high-privacy work environment. Not only did you have to have a wide field of vision, but also had high-quality sound insulation to prevent the wall from having ears when discussing certain sensitive topics."

"I also found other evidence. For example, the climate of San Carlos does not require three layers of glass, because there is no harsh winter; as you, you should not be able to use the luxurious and heavy flannel curtains. In fact, even if you have more than a hundred assets Wan's wealthy people seldom always use this material to make curtains, which is not fashionable."

"So I know, I can do anything to you in this room, you can scream wantonly, anyway, except for us, no one in the entire barracks can pay attention."

Morey's face was white and transparent, cold sweat had already covered his forehead, and his lips could not stop shaking.

"But...but you still need me to take you into the fire depot. If you use torture, others will see that you can't do anything!"

"This is the second question."

Lorraine took a sip of the wine in good time, held it in his mouth for a while, and vomited it all back in depression.

"A Spaniard actually drinks inferior Cuban rum. It seems that your two salaries are not as high as I thought..."

"Close to the subject, second point. You originally planned to kill us here, and then use our bodies as scapegoats to blow up the militia's arsenal."

"Like you said ~lightnovelpub.net~ in the crowded military camp, how can you and your subordinates unobtrusively send the three corpses to the destination? Put them in a box? ?"

"There are no vacant arms boxes in the room. There are no lights or fires in the auxiliary building, which means that the only cronies you can rely on are the four people I killed. This means that you don’t have suitable vehicles, and at the same time, you don’t have enough. Manpower."

"I guess the passage to the arsenal should be in your officer’s dormitory, either the main building or the auxiliary building. If not, you will lead us to the arsenal before considering doing it. After all, I came here to bring It is much easier to get a few living people in than to transport a few dead people in."

"I wonder if I guessed it right?"

Following Lorraine's question, Morey completely gave up resistance.

He collapsed his shoulders and lowered his head. He couldn't hear the slightest anger in his voice: "I am willing to take you to the arsenal, but I want to live. This is my only request."

"I agree." Lorraine raised three fingers to the sky, "I can swear to God."

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