It was finally getting dark. The gate guard Jonah finally adjusted the anti-illusion device, turned all the indicators to the highest, and then yawned - for some reason, the number of people visiting Kenyatta has suddenly increased several times in recent days, and his workload has also followed. doubled. Jonah's throat was burning with pain, his neck was stiff and his legs were numb like his own. As a bachelor, the chilled wine in the tavern after the shift is his only support right now.

After sunset, it's free. Jonah coughed a few times and cleared his throat, trying to reduce the sand-rubbing swelling in his throat. He had two more tests—no no, one would call it quits. Then definitely head to the pub for a good drink. Maybe tonight he can be extravagant and order two more side dishes to reward himself who is too tired to stand up.

Damn, he looked at faces all day. Even if you close your eyes, people's facial features will float everywhere in the darkness. Men and women, old and young, gradually became the same in his eyes, and his life was about to be polluted by this **** job. Jonah roared angrily in his heart, trying to recall the beautiful waitress in the tavern for a few seconds, but found that the face that seemed to be engraved in his heart had become a blurred mass.

He raised his eyes in frustration, looking at the gradually darkening sky.

His last quota finally appeared from the thick night. It was a man in a tan hood. Look at the height of nearly 1.9 meters and the cheap hood, where is the vulgar man, a stupid big man. Jonah thought sadly for a while that he was less than 1.8 meters tall, and slandered to himself.

Then the gatekeeper's mood got worse.

He heard the characteristic bell of a corpse cart. The corpse carrier couldn't even afford a horse, and even a fuller goat pulled the cart. There are three or four coffins lying on the simple wooden cart, and the materials are not high-end. The strong rancid stench shot straight into his nostrils, and then hit his celestial cover all the way.

He definitely had to find something unpleasant for this **** of plague, this guy ruined most of his last hope for today.

"Face, identification, purpose." The hapless gatekeeper growled with a hoarse throat.

The man obediently took off his hood.

Jonah's next sarcasm came out of his throat when he swallowed it himself, and even nearly choked himself. It's good luck, absolutely good luck. The guard thought in a daze, the chilled wine and the waitress's yellow skirt instantly disappeared in his mind, leaving not even a shadow. The annoying hallucinations that plagued him vanished in an instant, and he couldn't remember any of his previous faces, let alone his fragmented features.

God, he's beautiful, thought the guard. Jonah was quite sure that he liked women with soft bodies, but he still couldn't help being attracted to that unusual beauty. For the first time, he felt the exact meaning of the word "amazing", and he carefully picked up the adjective from the "exaggerated" column in his mind and put it into the category of "reality"—

It was a young man with long blond hair hanging from a rough hood, glowing softly in the dark night. He smiled at the guard, and his blue eyes like ice lakes were slightly curved, as beautiful as an illusion.

Jona blushed instantly because the smile was dazzling for a few seconds. But after a brief shock, he immediately remembered his responsibilities: "Proof of identity... eh, your proof of identity and the purpose of entering the city, sir."

This time, his tone softened a lot, and his eyes were repeatedly aimed at the face of the blond youth.

"I'm so sorry... I lost my ID, dear sir." The beautiful young man whispered in a good voice, his voice also low and pleasant, with a friendly Garland accent. "You see, we've got to get into some messy places in this business—I'm in town just to make up for it, so I can send these poor people back home."

"Oh, oh." Jonah dazedly glanced at the anti-illusion device next to his eyes, is this face really without illusion? Why is it not responding? "Then I'm afraid you have to show your employment certificate, sir, we have to register."

The young man smiled at him again, poured out a sturdy piece of parchment from the thin copper tube, and handed it over with both hands.

"Hmm." Jonah picked up the paper and looked at it, the seal didn't seem to be fake. "Last practice, I have to ask, please understand... Have you done immigration registration before?"

"Unfortunately, no." The young man shook his head.

The other party does not have a recognized identity certificate, then according to the rules, he has to turn this person out. But the city was deserted, and there were even a few wolf howls not far away—there were still three or four hours’ walk from the nearest transit station, but it was going to be completely dark.

"I understand your difficulty, Mr. Guard." The blond youth said pitifully, pulling a strand of blond hair behind his ear. "Sorry, I haven't run a few cross-border business, and I'm not too familiar with these procedures. What should I do next?"

"You have to go back to the country where you registered last time from the transit station, and complete the proof there, and then you can enter the city for immigration..." Jonah's voice became smaller and smaller under the gaze of the other party.

The wolf in the distance howled just right.

"Could you be accommodating?" The blond young man grabbed the guard's hand, sounding increasingly at a loss. "These things are too smelly, they will attract beasts! It's not easy to make a living, I'm really not a dangerous person, please."

He is not, the guard thought, he will not forget to become such a wanted criminal. Jonah looked at the hand that was holding his left hand tightly—it was beautiful, he sighed again in his heart, and he could even hear the blood hitting his eardrums.

"Oh, then you have to hurry up and complete the formalities." He mumbled, blushing to the base of his ears, completely forgetting the strong corpse odor in the air.

"Thank you very much! By the way, sir, you have to look at these coffins, right? I'll open the lids for you—" The blond youth took a root from the back of the Fuller goat Crowbar, directly pry the coffin lid up a seam.

The stench of a real corpse rose into the sky.

"No, close it." Jonah, who had completely forgotten about this, almost choked on tears, "Come into the city."

There are few pedestrians in Kenyatta at night, but the sparse pedestrians are not bothered by the odor - after the corpse truck entered the city, the corpse odor suddenly disappeared.

The pitch-black bone ball on the staff stopped spinning, and the decaying spell drawn from the dead ended. Nemo pushed away the thin coffin board in front of him and jumped off the corpse car.

"Good job." Ann whistled, "You still have some use, Dylan."

"I bought the corpse carrier, and I was the main contributor." Jesse said dissatisfiedly, the harmless breath on his face was swept away. "Don't you have anything to say? Obviously a charm spell can do it—"

"It's amazing," Nemo said stiffly, applauding reluctantly.

Jessie took a breath from her nose and glanced at the knight commander.

"It's hard work." Adrian said calmly, "This is impossible, Garland must be looking for the three of us - and the anti-illusion device is very sensitive to charm, so be cautious Points are never a bad thing."

"Will it trouble the guard just now?" Nemo was silent for a while, then asked carefully.

"No." Jessie smacked her lips, "We won't stay here for long, or do you really want to slaughter a city today?"

Nemo unceremoniously swung his staff, and it struck Jesse's head firmly. He didn't use much force, but it was definitely not too small—the thud was very clear.

Jessie let out a cry, covering her head with her hands. "You attack innocent teammates!"

Nimo was stunned for a moment, and seemed to be in disbelief at the speed of his hands: "I thought you could dodge... I'm sorry, Dylan."

"Forgive you for now." The blond young man glanced at Nemo angrily and grabbed Adrian directly. "Baby, let's go for a drink."

Adrian rarely resisted.

"Nemo and I will find a suitable resting place and communicate with the crystal." An Chong's former knight commander raised his eyebrows and pushed the old wooden cart to the corner of the city wall.

"I...I have a personal business, Ann." Nemo poked his staff casually at the wooden cart. The wood that came into contact with the bone ball began to rot rapidly, and the rot spread quickly, and the originally dilapidated wooden cart and coffin turned into inconspicuous black debris within a few seconds. "We'll see you in the morning, how about two o'clock?"

"The two of us may not return home at night?" The blond youth's tone was lazy and ambiguous, "If we don't come back on time—"

"See you at two o'clock at the latest." Adrian interrupted Jesse nonchalantly.

"Okay." Ann didn't ask more, "I'll look for an overnight place that doesn't require ID registration, and add supplies by the way. Although the vigilance here is not too strong, you still have to be careful."

As she said this, she stared at Nemo worriedly. "I don't want to lose another companion."

"I'll pay attention, thank you." Nemo could hear Ann's guilt, and the words were useless, he could only try his best to be peaceful, so that she wouldn't blame herself so much. "You have to be careful too."

He nodded at her and rounded the corner of the city wall.

The grey parrot stood on his shoulders, and Nemo was empty again. But strangely, this time he no longer felt anxious and panicked because of it. Oliver wasn't here, and his vulnerability seemed to disappear in an instant, leaving only a hard, dull crust.

The hard shell made it hard for him to breathe.

The black figure climbed up from his bare feet, forming a large black robe. The wide hood covered most of his face, and the rest of his skin was also covered by a misty black shadow, and the black-haired young man quietly blended into the night. The grey parrot flew off his shoulders, hesitated for a few seconds, and finally spoke.

"You...you...damn it, what do you want to do?" it screamed, pulling its neck.

"Looking for someone from the Church of the Abyss." Nemo replied softly, leaping lightly onto the roof of the nearest building. "They will definitely not ignore this mutation. I think there will be many people who plan to sneak in from here."

"Do you know how many people there are in this city?" the grey parrot muttered, "You don't really want to massacre the city, do you?"

Nemo raised his staff threateningly, and Bagelmore shrank into a ball like a quail in an instant, without the slightest demeanor of a superior demon.

"I really don't like this joke." Nemo sighed and slowly closed his eyes.

When he closed his eyes, he could see the stars.

He could feel countless bright and dark pale light spots flickering, with different strengths and sizes, but the whole was bleak. Although Nemo doesn't know why, he believes he knows what those are—

Low-level demons running around, sneaky mid-level demons, demon followers wandering in the shadows. There are no high-level demons or demon warlocks here, so he can visit the relatively strongest among them.

Being in a relatively densely populated city, he didn't dare to split the space casually, in case he happened to hurt some unfortunate one - Nemo kicked the roof hard, moving as fast as a bird, in the night Headed straight towards a building in Kenyatta.

Under the same dark sky.

Oliver did not use spells, he directly used the sword wind to resist the fierce magic attack on the opposite side, the boots on both feet stuck on the ground, and he was still forced to retreat several steps.

The gaze from the opposite side is not looking at people, but more like looking at the inevitable prey. But Oliver's terrifying attire paid off—the blood-stained man swirled wildly around him like a beast, not approaching recklessly.

Oliver tightened every string tightly, subconsciously protecting the killer behind him. He looked intently at the enemy who was attacking again, the bone sword split the air, as light as a feather in the gust of wind, and the changing moves subtly teased the opponent. The huge disparity in strength makes this battle more like a one-sided manipulation - after a while, the enemy is farther away than at the beginning.

From this angle, Oliver couldn't see Randy's complicated gaze behind him.

"He doesn't fit," whispered Randy. "He definitely doesn't fit there."

"Yeah." Mora's voice came into his brain through his bones, "So he's destined to go to Wither Castle, and I can't watch it anymore."

The female killer let out a small sigh, sounding sullen. "A man of integrity...I really don't want to see him ruined."

"No way." Randy sighed, absently throwing out the heavy shield. "That said, 'There are only two kinds of people who can leave the Withered Castle—the dead and the murderers.'"

"Forget the dead, we're already murderous. But he's not."

"...he's not 'yet'."

(m..=)