Tianjin people will never lose SAN

Chapter 121 Clockwork Tiger
"Mr. Ricky, well, how should I put it...would you consider leaving Xiaohu in school?"

Millie Tang lowered her head and stirred the cocktail in her hand. After observing him for an entire afternoon, the sense of crisis that Xiaohu gave her not only did not decrease but increased.

After returning home at night, she sorted out more than a dozen possibilities for Xiaohu's identity based on the information she had obtained from observations during the day. These dozen gods... well, they are all very dangerous without exception.

Thinking about how Liu Yonglu had been taking Xiaohu around to play in the afternoon, and even lifting him up over his neck and letting him ride on his head, Millie Tang felt a chill run down her body.

It's hard to imagine what would happen if Ricky faced Xiaohu alone and Xiaohu wanted to harm him without him.

Seeing that Liu Yonglu was busy eating the newly served chicken wings and ignored her, Millie Tang added:
"Mr. Ricky, do you know what Xiaohu's specific status is?"

"Don't ask if you don't know. Asking is a sign of mental illness."

Liu Yonglu thought to himself, are you two sick? Are you born to be in conflict with each other? The younger one just said that he wanted the older one to disappear, and now the older one is persuading him to keep the younger one in school.

It's better to change the subject by doing that...

"Mi Li'er, I just found something wrong when I was looking through my bag. We were having dinner with Hendrick in the car, but when I got off the car, I was careless and took the wrong bag. Now I have all his documents in my hands.

Let's take another day off, and tomorrow we'll go to New Newland to return the information to them."

"Okay...but I suggest that you report to the Ministry first when you return to New New Lent, and then return your things."

"Sure, I'll listen to you."

……

On the outskirts of New Newrent, in a deep basement of a factory, Marcus, wearing a painter's hat, slowly walked into the darkness.

Marcus was very careful with every step he took. After arriving in New Newland, he had been looking for his "old friend". Mr. Wordsworth, whom he was going to meet today, had maintained a correspondence with Lewis for a long time.

At that time, he personally made several trips to Lark Manor in the Severn Valley to deliver letters for Mr. Lewis.

It was then that he met Wordsworth, who, like Mr. Lewis, was the pontiff of some divine order, and a young gentleman of elegant ease.

Just as Marcus was lost in his memories, a door on the side of the corridor in front of him opened without warning, and Marcus stopped.

"Don't worry, Father God is waiting for us."

Painter's Hat walked forward without thinking, but Marcus had a bad feeling in his heart. However, thinking of the purpose of his coming here, he could only bite the bullet and follow behind.

"Damn you old lunatic! Can't you see the danger? Get out of here quickly, there's still time."

Brundtrang's voice in my heart was still roaring. If he was controlling my body, I would definitely turn around and leave.

Marcus sneered. The reason why he was willing to take such a big risk was that the first thing he had to do was to eliminate you.

As he walked through the door, Marcus still couldn't help but look into the darkness.

A pair of blood-red eyes were staring at him in the darkness. Judging from the height, it should be a human, but the human...

Just as Marcus thought of this, he heard the owner of the pupil let out a beast-like scream. The scream should be a human voice, but there was some leakage, as if someone had made a hole in the screamer's throat.

Marcus shuddered and hurriedly followed behind the painter's hat, not daring to lag behind.

The Painter Hat, who was walking in front, also clearly felt Marcus' fear. He chuckled and shook his head slightly.

He liked to see these outsiders being frightened. In this abandoned factory, every believer had endured hardships that ordinary people could hardly imagine before they received the gift from God the Father. So whenever he saw outsiders trying to pick fruit, he felt particularly unbalanced.

During these dozens of steps, the doors on both sides of the basement would open by themselves from time to time.

Marcus once saw a human hand sticking out, but part of the hand had rotted away, revealing a small section of gray-brown finger bones. "They are all believers who have just converted to the Father God. Don't worry, let's go in first."

Marcus was so scared that he dared not speak, but in his heart Brentland had already started shouting at the top of his lungs. He couldn't bear to watch this old madman take his body to hell.

Finally, Painter's Hat pushed open the iron door at the end of the corridor, revealing an empty space. In the center of the space stood a square stone pillar that went straight to the ceiling, seemingly supporting the weight of the entire building.

On the stone pillar hangs a huge human statue, which is carved from gray-white quartz. The face has the tough lines of a man, but the body has the concave and convex curves of a woman.

The statue's feet are tied to stone pillars, and its hands are hung on the ceiling by several steel cables, presenting a flying upward posture.

"Mr. Wordsworth, the heart of a blasphemer, and the bag he carries with him."

Painter's Hat did not introduce Marcus, but first reported the task he had completed a few days ago. A cloth bag with the pattern of Rodwell Company and a paper bag oozing with blood were thrown in front of the stone pillar.

The hooded man kneeling in front of the stone pillar is Wordsworth?

Marcus had met him several times seven or eight years ago. He was a polite and elegant gentleman in his thirties. He always wore a light-colored suit and an exaggerated hat decorated with bright feathers.

But the man kneeling in front of the statue was only wearing a tattered brown robe. When he raised his head and pulled down his hood, Marcus was even more surprised, because under the hood was an extremely strange and distorted face.

The face was covered with various twisted tattoos, the hair on the top of the head was shaved off, and the spells spread from the cheeks to the top of the head. Marcus had reason to believe that the person in front of him was covered with totem spells related to gods.

On the left lower jaw of this face, Marcus saw a light white scar. This was Wordsworth! What happened in the past seven years? How could he become like this!
"Who are you? I don't know you."

Fortunately, Wordsworth's voice was still the same as it had been seven years ago, except that his tone had become calmer, and there was no trace of emotion in his eyes when he spoke.

"I'm Marcus! Marcus JR Albert, Mr. Lewis's man in Excel Town!"

Bald Wordsworth said nothing, but walked silently to Marcus. Although there was that terrifying corridor behind him, Marcus still felt a stronger sense of oppression from Wordsworth in front of him.

"You are Marcus." Wordsworth nodded slowly.

Marcus almost cried. He could see the soul inside Wordsworth in front of him.

Bald Wordsworth said nothing, but just waved his hand, and the painter's hat behind Marcus pushed him in.

"Father God, please forgive me again for my decades of neglect. It's time to eat."

Wordsworth returned to the statue again. The dim oil lamp on the ceiling cast a hazy halo on him. He put on his hood again and knelt down again, but this time he took out the bloody tribute from the paper bag and raised his hands above his head.

Because of the angle, Marcus could not see the statue's reaction, but he could vaguely see a thin spike stuck in the back of Wordsworth's neck.

If it were any other time, he would never notice it, but when he was offering the sacrifice, the thorn seemed to be sucking blood, gurgling and shaking.

More than ten minutes later, Wordsworth slowly stood up. At this time, the Rodwell Company's luggage bag on the ground had been sorted by Painter's Hat on the shelf next to the open space.

There were three other cloth bags neatly arranged on the shelf.

Wordsworth was bathed in the twisted divine light. He unbuttoned the bag and shook out everything inside. There was a clockwork tiger, a brass kitten, a mechanical mouse...

The whole place was silent, except for the bald Wordsworth who was mumbling to himself, "Where are the design drawings?"

Everyone, it's not that I don't want to update more frequently, it's just that there are too many foreshadowings in the new chapter, and I can't write fast enough. Once I have sorted out all the foreshadowings, I can update more this week. Please give me some time.

Today is the weekend. Do you feel like you didn’t do anything on Saturday and Sunday, and they passed in the blink of an eye? I feel the same way.

Haha, in the new week, guys should study and work hard, come on!
In addition, those who like to read entertainment can take a look at the new book by the great man Jian Xing Jian Yuan. It has no other shortcomings except that there are too few words!

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(End of this chapter)