Chapter 500 Strange

Something is wrong!

The black shadow similar to the "Fallen" could be interpreted as a sentry, but what is the group of alchemy reformed fighters that suddenly appeared in front of them?

To die?

After squinting his eyes and judging the strength of the alchemy warrior in front of him through experience and aura, Qin Ran became more and more puzzled.

Alchemy transformation fighters may be much stronger than normal people.

But compared with him, it is completely not enough.

With the cunning shown by Ebari, it is impossible to send his men to die while knowing this.

unless……

"The opponent cannot fully grasp the situation in front of him!"

"Perhaps because of the death of the sentry, he discovered a new intruder, but he didn't know who the intruder was... No, no!"

"If I set up such a big stage, I must know the stage like the back of my hand. It is impossible for such a mistake to happen!"

"But the appearance of a team of alchemy fighters..."

The doubt in his heart made Kieran gesture to O'Hara, and then, holding the [Words of Arrogance], he rushed towards this group of alchemy fighters.

He needs more information to determine what happened.

And the clue is naturally the alchemy reformed warrior in front of him.

Chopping melons and vegetables is average.

Kieran swept across a group of alchemy fighters in front of him.

Then, he examined it carefully.

From the most basic belongings, to the stomach bag.

Everything that Kieran thinks needs to be checked has not been missed.

When he saw something, Kieran narrowed his eyes.

"is that so?"

Kieran maintained a skeptical attitude towards the clues collected in front of him.

Even if he found it with his own hands.

...

The mysterious side members in red leather armor and cloth clothes were busy.

Some of them painted magic circles on the ground, while others moved large or small bottles and jars into the magic circles they had just drawn.

Of course, this painting is good, just pointing at a certain part.

A certain part of a complete magic circle.

But even this part fully occupies the central square of the entire city of Ceylon.

The fountains, sculptures, benches, street lights, gardens, lawns and other facilities that originally belonged here have been demolished five days ago.

The flat ground was covered with a thick layer of something that looked like grease.

The magic circle is drawn on this layer of grease.

When the palm passed by, a depression immediately appeared on the oil, and the excess oil rushed to both sides, and solidified at a speed visible to the naked eye.

A faint stench appeared with such solidification.

And in the solidified grease, one by one looming human faces began to emerge.

Struggling, at a loss.

Pray, despair.

The expression on every face is so real.

But it couldn't impress these mysterious side members at all.

Everyone involved in arranging the magic circle looked indifferent and serious.

Even, some of their movements are surprisingly similar.

Coupled with the clothes of the same color, it looks like a robot.

There is only one exception.

The same red coat was completely sewn from linen, with three belts rising from the back waist to tighten the excess between the clothes.

There is another wider belt around his waist.

Two leather pockets hang on the left side.

On the right is a short sword.

In his hand, he held a long metal stick that was as tall as a person.

A finger-wide scar stretched from the top of his bald head to his chin.

Just looking at the hideous scar, it seems that the head of the person in front of him has been cut off and then stitched together again.

"How about our allies?"

he asked.

"Same as a few days ago!"

he answered.

"Where's our guest?"

he continued.

"Come towards the trap!"

He continued to answer.

The scar kept twitching with the opening and closing of the mouth of the person in front of him, as if a huge centipede was twisting its body, but it was the person himself who was more frightening.

Every question and answer comes from the same mouth of the same person.

This scene is enough to make ordinary people feel astonished, but the people around them turn a blind eye.

It seems that I have long been used to it.

...

Ceylon city, city center.

A room somewhere underground.

Barry carefully trimmed the cigar in his hand.

Instead of using cigar scissors, I used smaller scissors, similar to the eyebrow scissors that women trim their eyebrows.

Click, click.

In his own way, Barry trims the cigars into a pointed cone.

Then, light it directly with a small pine oil torch.

An old ditty was humming in Barry's mouth, and the right hand holding the cigar kept twirling.

Because of the special trimming method, the cigars are quickly coaxed and ignited.

There is no rush to feel the aroma inside the smoke.

Barry held a lit cigar between the index and middle fingers of his left hand, and in his right hand held a wine glass filled with ice cubes.

The golden liquor flows and swirls in the cracks of the ice cubes.

Barry watched the wine flow intently.

Then, he drank the wine in the glass in one gulp, including ice cubes in his mouth.

Crunch, crunch.

The ice cubes were then chewed into pieces.

The hot liquor intertwined with the ice cubes, making Barry's tongue and mouth feel numb. At this moment, he put the cigar in his mouth.

Fragrant smoke was swallowed out.

After a while, the entire room was filled with cigar smoke.

But Barry continued to puff on his cigar as if unconsciously.

It didn't look like a person enjoying cigars at all, but a reckless man who didn't know how to appreciate cigars at all.

Especially the wine glass in his right hand.

The spirits mixed with high-quality tequila and hundred roots are constantly being poured into it.

A normal person couldn't handle a glass of mixed wine at all, but Barry drank it glass after glass.

until very drunk.

Snapped!

The wine glass fell to the ground.

Then came the bottle.

Amidst a series of slang and insults, the half-lit cigar fell from Barry's mouth and fell to the ground. Sparks splashed in all directions. After flicking it several times in a row, he stopped moving, exactly like Barry who fell drunk on the ground.

Time passed by every minute and every second.

About two minutes later, when Barry's snoring sounded incessantly, the door of the room opened.

One is an ordinary wooden door.

And the other one?

It is an iron fence made of refined steel.

Two doors come together...

Prison door!

Anyone who sees it will subconsciously think like this.

Naturally, the room Barry was in was naturally a prison cell.

A very fancy prison cell.

Two tall and strong men walked in.

He lifted Barry onto the bed expressionlessly, then turned around and walked out.

There was no verbal communication or gesture communication during the whole process.

Only the strength of the strong man holding Barry's arm seemed to be a little different.

One side is slightly heavier and the other is slightly lighter.

But from the outside, it is not obvious at all.

The door closed again, and Barry, who was on his back, continued to snore under the influence of alcohol.

And, that snoring got louder and louder.

PS first update~

The biological clock still hasn't been adjusted...was up late again...