Chapter 417 Faith

In the quiet cafe, a faint roar came from the distance.

The guests on the seats looked up uneasily in the distance, but could not see anything. The street was quiet.

The guards who patrolled by politely told those who asked for help that it was just a small incident that would be resolved soon. Please stay where you are and don't panic or run.

Soon, a waiter carrying a plate politely handed out verification bracelets and a map of the nearest shelter to each customer. His unhurried and prepared appearance successfully calmed some people's uneasiness.

"Sir, your bracelet and map."

When the waiter came to the corner, he saw the man sitting on the armchair.

The skinny man turned his back to the door and looked down at the chessboard in front of him.

It's a pity that no one came to play chess with him.

Only the broken chess pieces on the chessboard gradually showed cracks. Just as the waiter approached, the last two chess pieces fell apart.

Strangely, there seems to be only one side of the glass chess pieces on the chessboard, and they are all chariots and bishops.

Only the lonely king is still in the hands of the chess player.

When the chess player is concentrating, there seems to be some strange magic power that makes the surrounding people quiet and cannot bear to be disturbed.

The waiter stood beside him hesitantly, not knowing whether to speak, so he raised his head.

The two blue eyes in the deep-set eye sockets moved flexibly, making the waiter take a step back.

Being looked at by this skinny man, as if he was being targeted by something bad, made people feel hairy all over. But his language is low-pitched and full of magnetism, making people feel close and trustworthy.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

The waiter hesitated for a moment and handed over the items on the plate: "Here is your verification bracelet and a map of the nearest shelter. If something happens, you can go there quickly."

"I will."

He smiled at the waiter and emphasized softly again: "I will."

His smile is kind and kind, which is reassuring. The waiter couldn't help but smile, turned around and left in a happy mood.

He was left alone facing the silent chessboard, meditating.

Until in his hand, the chess piece representing the king also showed a tragic trace.

In a daze, there seemed to be some wailing coming from the distance.

"The ruler's cry?"

He whispered softly: "It seems to be no different from the voice of the ruled."

"Don't you feel sorry? Mr. Morando."

Opposite him, on the empty seat, came a low and elegant voice with a reserved Roman accent.

The phantom-like middle-aged man was holding an exquisite cane in his hand and was dressed in a formal dress. His vaguely white sideburns were trimmed neatly and seriously, and his long hair was combed behind his head.

He asked curiously: "In other words, the superior you believe in met a tragic end. Don't you feel a little guilty for standing by and watching?"

"Guilty? Why?"

Morando asked: "Because of my faith?"

"That's right." The elegant man nodded.

"I think you've made a mistake, Mr. Mathers."

Morando shook his head slightly and smiled mockingly: "From the beginning, faith has been a slippery exchange for human beings. It cannot be said to be equivalent, nor can it be called fair."

“Isn’t it ridiculous that you want to get peace just by giving verbal praise, that you want to live a long life just by donating a little money, that you want to get the blessing of going to heaven with just a little pious contribution? Something?"

"No matter whether the object of faith comes from heaven or the abyss, whether what the other party promises is paradise or hell, it is not even necessary to delve into whether those promises are possible to be realized, whether they are truth or lies."

He said categorically: "——The so-called faith is the shameless greed of the weak, a kind of begging and a kind of luck in the face of fear."

After stating his opinions so frankly, he asked seriously: "Since I already have no shame, why should I be ashamed again?"

Mathers raised his eyebrows slightly: "So, do you hate faith?"

"No, on the contrary, I crave faith more than anyone else! Because I know my own weakness and incompetence, and I also know my own limitations."

Morando told him seriously and solemnly: "I want faith, and I want to have a faith full of power. So, whoever gives me strength, I believe in. It's that simple."

Mathers seemed stunned.

After looking at the collaborator in front of him in slight astonishment for a long time, he sighed in admiration: "Regardless of whether your words are reasonable or not, in so many years, it is really rare to meet someone who is so candid with you."

"Is this bad?" Morando asked, "Or is this naked shamelessness too disgusting?"

"No, I actually find it more pleasant."

Mathers leaned closer with his cane and chuckled: "A long time ago, those preaching priests would say that a long time ago, human beings lived in a beautiful kingdom of heaven, obeyed the instructions of the gods, and lived a carefree life. You must live a life of worry, but you must not eat from the tree. Do you know why?”

"Appreciate further details."

“For only the guilty person who eats the apple knows shame.”

Mathers said, “Shame is something that is only reserved for those who are guilty of original sin—people who have true faith will only look at it with disdain and sneer.”

Morando laughed: "Do you think I am innocent, Mr. Mathers?"

"No, it would be better to say that you and I are the kind of people who commit heinous crimes, right?" Mathers shook his head: "Where can there be a pure and righteous person who would fall into the abyss with bloody hands like you and me?"

"So what's the point of this story?"

"If you want to look for meaning, then it may only explain one truth."

Mathers laughed mockingly:

"——From the beginning, the so-called faith was a lie."

boom!

There was a low, loud noise in the distance.

In Morando's hands, the crystal king's chess piece cracked again and a gap appeared, and a faint ink color emerged from it, flowing out from the king's face.

Like blood.

"The king is dying."

Mathers raised his hand and spread his palm. Between his five fingers, a blood-red chess piece slowly emerged - wearing a sacred crown, pure white clothes, and holding a rose rosary. Its face was clearly that of Mo Lando's appearance.

"I think it's your turn next."

He stood up slowly, put the chess pieces into Morando's hands, bent down, and whispered softly in his ear: "The last 'Mr. Bishop'."

"I will."

Morando calmly folded his fingers and asked again: "What about you?"

"Huh?" The middle-aged gentleman who was about to leave stopped and turned back in confusion.

"Aren't you going to appear on the chessboard?"

Mathers laughed, took off the bowler hat on the hanger, and put it on his white hair: "For chess players, there is no need to put any representative objects on the chessboard, right? "

Morando said no more.

Mathers nodded, turned and left.

As he passed by the window seat, he paused slightly and glanced down as if unintentionally.

Sitting on the seat was a haggard-looking man with thick dark circles under his eyes, wearing an inconspicuous gray suit, and was drinking black coffee without sugar with a frown.

He glanced up at Mathers, who looked back at him.

The two calmly looked away and continued to go their separate ways.

Just like back then.

Twenty minutes ago, the sea outside the Stars was calm and a strange dead silence enveloped everything.

In the distant border of London, at the heavily guarded Astronomical Society headquarters, after going through double verification of identity and password on the 16th floor underground, they transferred to a special elevator. After another source and quality comparison, the old elevator began to carry people again. sinking with the passengers.

Straight down, and down again.

Elevated floor·L8.

The iron grating at the elevator entrance slowly opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a gray maintenance uniform walked out, hearing the sound of musicals playing on the old TV.

There was a cold pizza on the long table at the door, but there was no one on the chair.

Until the deep sound of the toilet flushing came from the cubicle, an old security guard with a bulging belly walked out of it, swung his legs and returned to his seat.

"Apply for a report?"

He flipped through the documents handed over by the middle-aged man, checked the signatures on them, took out a register, handed it over, and signed. Finally, he grabbed a pen and made a check mark, opened the drawer, and took out a bunch of keys. He stood up and said, "Follow me."

The door to the warehouse was opened.

There is no smell of dust in the air, a good ventilation system maintains a constant temperature, and there is not even any musty smell.

Just pure, no taste at all.

No sound could be heard.

Only the crisp sound of leather boots on the floor gradually deepened.

Until finally, he stopped in front of a huge square cabinet. The guard checked the number on the dustproof cloth and nodded.

"[Item TS-7767], that's it." He turned around and asked, "Do you need to use it here? Or take it with you."

The middle-aged worker wearing a gray maintenance uniform replied: "I won't take it away."

"Who will use it?" the guard asked, "Do you need my help?"

"need."

"Then just wait a moment."

The fat guard stretched out his hand and pulled off the dust-proof cloth, revealing a well-kept huge globe underneath - it was about as huge as an average person's height and was fixed between four brass rails. However, except for the longitude, latitude and common meridian lines, there were no There is also a new layer of scale that is confusing.

Next to the globe is a small stove and crucible, as well as a sealed jar of animal fat.

Soon, the fire started in the stove, and the fat in the crucible melted and turned into a clear liquid.

After another three minutes, the fat boiled and took on the color of flames.

The fat guard picked up the tongs, set up a crucible filled with boiling grease, walked to the ladder next to the globe, and climbed up the ladder with some difficulty.

"coordinate?"

"Eastern Asia, south of the West Polis Sea."

The middle-aged worker looked down at the data on the signature plate and reported: "Longitude 124.35946... Latitude 2.7653475... Depth 1.95."

"Where's the time?"

"In three seconds."

So, three seconds later, boiling grease poured over the coordinates of the globe, disappearing without a trace like an illusion.

That's it.

The fat guard climbed down with difficulty, shook hands with the middle-aged worker, signed two more words, packed up everything, returned the ladder to its original position, and covered it with a dustproof cloth.

Finally leaving the warehouse, closing the door and watching the visitor leave, the fat guard returned to his chair and continued eating the cold pizza.

Melodious music came from the TV.

A new program is about to start.

At the same time, the endless sea.

The sky is broken.

I'm a little stuck with my anger and can't write much. I'll see if I can finish another chapter tonight.

And, friends of Group V, please wait for two more days. If the appeal is useless, let’s meet again on Earth 6 (the Astronomical Society sighs