Started with a green hat for Verlaine

"Commander, we will go out of the country any further..."

"Are we going?"

"Commander...have we been abandoned?"

"commander……"

Voices of exhaustion, accompanied by despair, appeared behind Andre Gide.

The heart of the 22-year-old white-haired youth was injected with bitter juice, which spread all the way, corroding his belief in the country.A year ago, the young military officer Andre Gide, who was still high-profile, participated in the war for the motherland and led the soldiers to climb out of the sea of ​​corpses and blood, but was abandoned by the improper transactions between the superior officers.

Andre Gide firmly grasped the gun on his body, turned around, and the loud and forceful command voice became weak even for some reason, and he replied hoarsely: "We are not traitors."

Because of this sentence, the eyes of the French soldiers rekindled a gleam of light, which was quickly extinguished again.

Their parents, relatives, and children are all in France.

Who can go back?

They were too tired. After fighting, they were chased and killed one after another, and their spirit and body were double squeezed to the extreme. If the commander hadn't led them to escape the encircled and suppressed land with powerful strength, they would not have survived today.

André Gide made a decision: "We hide in France, collect evidence, don't hurt any compatriots, and don't get close to others. Someone will understand."

The moment he spoke, the roots of his teeth were almost bleeding from biting.

He guessed that France had not sent strong men to destroy them for a long time. One was that he was overwhelmed, and the other was the factional civil war after the war. The most important thing was that his relatives and friends in France must be running around for him to relieve the pressure.Can't run away!He can't escape from France like a defector, he is not reconciled to his end!

Proud to die for our country! ! !

Andre Gide's words are quite inspiring, because his prestige among the soldiers is no less than that of a general. He led them to victories in every battle, and the commander is a person with supernatural powers!

"laugh."

Suddenly, a male voice that seemed to be mocking intervened.

"Who!" "Who's there?!" "There's an enemy!" The fleeing French soldiers lived up to their reputation as elite fighters, and reacted quickly, bursting out with killing intent accumulated on the battlefield, each of them tensing their muscles , Forming a defensive posture, bullets can be fired at any time.

André Gide's soul was in hell, his whole body was cold, and the supernatural ability "Narrow Door" that predicted the dangerous future for five or six seconds was activated uncontrollably. He experienced dozens of deaths in just a few seconds. !

Once he dares to resist!

Every ending is ruthlessly chopped up!

On the hillside directly in front of them, a young man with slender limbs, soft, like a Nordic god stood there, holding a book of poetry in his hand, and softly sang the content of "Ophelia": "Pale Ophelia , oh, as beautiful as snow! Yes, child, you were buried in the rolling river..."

He smiled at Commander André Gide, with sea-like blue eyes and silver hair swaying in the wind.

In stark contrast to the embarrassment of the opponent.

Behind the youth is the Pyrenees, the largest mountain range in southwestern Europe, and the international line between France and Spain, the best route for soldiers to escape.

"How beautiful it sounds."

Strange visitors made them afraid to move forward in a strange way.

The cronies around Andre Gide asked loudly: "Who are you? An enemy!"

The strange visitor didn't care at all, and relaxed as if he was on an outing, looking at the commanding officer who was short of breath.

"Hello, traitors."

In a word, the effect is similar to that of a spark falling into a haystack.

The slandered French soldiers were furious, but André Gide raised his hand tremblingly to stop them.

"Your Excellency is Mr. Verlaine?"

"Yo, you know me?"

Paul Verlaine participated in the Supernatural War and also did espionage missions, and he took a long time to recuperate after the war.

"Let me guess, who told you the news." The young man closed his favorite poetry collection recently, and stretched his body, "Is it Paul Valéry who has the same name as me? This junior Rainier? Oh, I Forget that Mallarme seems to admire you very much, I once heard him praise your supernatural power in the salon of the party."

The young man didn't look very old, but he chuckled lightly in the tone of an elder: "The ability to predict the similarities?"

He is complimenting.

He is scornful.

You don't need to release malice to make people feel chills!

André Gide's back was soaked in sweat, he felt great sorrow, and he was so calm that he became numb, "It is our honor to invite a transcendent to silence, but we will not lay down our weapons, this is the only remaining pride. I want to ask Mr. Verlaine one last question, is the French government so intolerable for us?"

The person in front of him is Paul Verlaine, a French transcendent, a person who cannot be touched by ordinary people with supernatural powers!

André Gide knew about this person because he had a wide range of contacts in the military and politics, and he knew many people with different abilities. Among them, the "Mallame" in the mouth of the silver-haired youth was also a transcendent!

Compared with Paul Verlaine, who is extremely lethal, Stefan Mallarme is much more ordinary and low-key.

But Mallarme could not save them.

Supernatural powerhouses from seven different countries formed the "Seven Betrayers", committed war crimes (kidnapping heads of state and supreme commanders), and forcibly bowed to the anti-war people according to the country. The French transcenders all accepted The psychological evaluation has gone, it is very simple, there must be a French transcender among the "seven betrayers".

People in romantic countries are quite "romantic and unrestrained" in thinking and ideals.

The number of transcendents is very small, and people in their own country know each other. In order to prevent them from being induced to treason, their actions are subject to jurisdiction. They have no designated tasks and are not allowed to participate in the follow-up matters of the war.

Its name is to prevent post-war psychological shadows, and the government spends money on them to recuperate.

Paul Verlaine did not answer the question.

The soldiers saw the commander's pessimism, and they didn't understand why, so they said eagerly: "Commander, we are behind you, we are not afraid of death, please give an order!"

Andre Gide shook his head, and made a gesture behind his back, in case of emergency, escape freely.

He will use his life to drag the enemy down, and he will not hesitate to do what he can.This battle is doomed to death, let's see how many people can escape, those are the hopes of overturning the case.

Paul Verlaine looked at them indifferently, as if he didn't notice the little trick.

"You lackeys of the government, don't distinguish between right and wrong! We have nothing to do to the country!" When the first soldier pointed his gun at him in anger, his finger fell off the trigger, and his bones broke in pieces, all over the place. The whole body, without even feeling the pain, walked towards death in surprise and confusion.

The elite combat team of hundreds of people is no different from the chicken and dog in the eyes of the transcendent. Oh no, the leader among the chicken and dog can arouse a little interest, at least it is a person with supernatural powers.

Paul Verlaine said boredly: "Don't let these ordinary soldiers come up, it's better to commit suicide, lest I be stained with the blood of killing my compatriots." He looked at André Gide, and his smile deepened.

"Do you have the courage to shoot me?"

What responded to him was the indomitable tragedy and the sound of gunfire!

After half an hour.

The severed limbs and minced meat at the scene were like a small slaughterhouse. Fewer than a hundred soldiers escaped successfully, and the remaining dozens fled in haste with Commander André Gide.

Paul Verlaine stroked the silver hair beside his ear, and looked at the other side coldly.

Another Transcendence's supernatural ability hinders him.

——The afternoon of the shepherd.

Stefan Mallarmé sighed, bowing his head. "Leave them alone, my friend."

Paul Verlaine said: "This is my mission, and I managed to come out."

"We all know they are innocent, these are the best soldiers, heroes who have shed their blood for their country on the battlefield, and they are some of the upper echelons of the military who are doing no good. Fucking. In order to quell the anger of the people who opposed the war, the military pushed out the combat troops who received the order to fight as sacrifices. There is no treason at all..."

Paul Verlaine was speechless for the rather unassuming transcendent.

"You owe me a favor."

"it is good."

Stefan Marat, who was friends with Rimbaud, Verlaine and many other transcendents, agreed happily.

Since he was too lazy to hunt him down, he needed a suitable excuse. Paul Verlaine had to go back with Stefan Mallarme, and was verbally harassed by the other party on the way.

"Verlaine, you also like to read this collection of poems. Let me tell you, it's so beautiful, it breaks through the rhythm of previous poems..." Stefan Mallarme started barabala.Knowing that Verlaine doesn't like being called "Paul" very much, people would misunderstand him as another person with supernatural powers, and those who are familiar with him usually call him by his last name.

Paul Verlaine is as motionless as a mountain, and the movements of turning pages are extremely gentle.

He doesn't know why he likes this collection of poems, it's like falling in love at first sight, and it's like a sweet spring of heaven pouring into his heart, dousing the burning flame and gaining the peace of soul.

"This book of poetry is as beautiful as Arthur Rimbaud."

Stefan Mallarmé's inadvertent remark stunned Paul Verlaine, who was ignoring him.

Paul Verlaine said hastily: "What nonsense are you talking about!"

With a bang, he closed the collection of poems again, a little annoyed, and denied what Mallarme said: "How can it be compared with Rimbaud, it's just a niche collection of poems that is not mainstream!" How could it be melancholy and lively? The powerful, sharp-eyed Arthur Rimbaud is inevitable.

"Look, what kind of pseudonym is that, Jean-Nicolas? A sign of inadequacy!"

Belittling and mocking comments came out.

"It's not a minority." Stephane Mallarme said with a black line: "Verlaine, haven't you seen the slogan of the publishing house? This French poet is paying tribute to the era of the nineteenth century."

"Don't use it to compare with Lambert. Even if he dies, he should be respected and surpassed." Paul Verlaine had a "good-natured" smile on his face, and his words were soft and gentle, interpreting The beauty and uniqueness of French, but the murderous aura released is really exciting.

Stefan Mallarme looked at him meaningfully. Only the other party came back from the espionage mission.

Arthur Rimbaud is gone!

In terms of defense and self-protection, theoretically, the space system's "color painting collection" is more dominant!

Stefan Mallarme, who didn't want to have a bad relationship with him, looked back. During this period of time, the foreign war in France ended, the head of state lost face, and the supreme commander resigned, which triggered a big reshuffle. The civil war continued, and the streets were full of strikes and parades people.

"Well, poor Attil, I haven't had a good drink with him yet."

"..."

"Verlaine, don't be murderous, I'll just gossip about the last thing, I swear it's not an unreasonable question like André Gide, oh hehe, I just want to ask, have you slept with Attil? "

"..."

"Who's up there?"

"..."

On the same day, two transcendents in France attracted attention because they fought on the edge of the border.

The two who skipped their work went back to write a review.

The fugitive French officer and his soldiers escaped unharmed. After running around, under the game and negotiation of some people in the country, they were forced to flee abroad, unable to return to their beloved country.

War destroys morality. Perhaps, the soldiers who uphold ideals and justice have long since died.

What survived was just a ghost.

……

"The Narrow Gate": Our piety defeats sickness and death, and the shadow recedes before us.Every morning at dawn, I get up full of joy and run out to welcome the arrival of a new day... Whenever I dream back at midnight, this time soaked in morning dew always comes before my eyes.

—André Gide.