Chapter 548 Ch547 Mason Lyle's Plan

Chapter 548 Ch.547 Mason Lyle's Plan

Mason Lyle can't stay in London any longer.

He has used up his 'opportunities' and 'time'.

He destroyed his years of hard work with his own hands.

Of course he knew he was not crazy.

It's just that fate was not on his side.

The circus at sunset was shrouded in a faint blood mist.

The gray curly-haired man wore a top hat and carried a suitcase, stepping deep and shallow on the grass that had been mowed all year round.

Behind him was a blazing flame.

Soon, the news of the 'fire' at the Mud Ball Circus would spread throughout the streets and alleys - as a master who died in the fire, Mason Lyle's identity would become history from then on.

He could give himself a new name, spend some money to bribe the minor officials, and transform himself into Lyle Mason or John Lyle.

Everything in London was undoubtedly a failure.

But...

As long as there was it.

Mason Lyle wiped the ashes from his face and tucked the suitcase under his armpit.

It contained his hope.

‘You should try more times, Mason Lyle.’ The voice in the suitcase was so joyful: “No one can succeed in just one try. If the boundary of the extraordinary is so easy to cross, the world would be full of ritualists.”

‘I have no other choice!’ Mason Lyle growled and hammered the suitcase fiercely, ‘You taught me to kill them all! It’s your problem! I could have done it differently!’

‘Oh, I never told you to kill them.’

The shock of the hammer could not scare a happy goblin, on the contrary, it began to hate the few remaining souls.

‘I just asked you to “create” some “crazy souls”, Mason Lyle, the method is up to you.’

That’s right.

But Mason Lyle believed that there were not many things that could make a person crazy.

He failed with Halida, and the son of a bitch escaped without a trace. He didn't have any more time to waste - just yesterday, a group of black men came to the door and asked if the lady had been to the circus.

Mason Lyle knew how efficient these people were.

But even the dumbest ones would soon find out that he was lying through the bank records: they only needed to screen the possible scope, search the circus tents, and interrogate the deformed monsters...

He was completely finished.

He had no choice but to use these "children" as materials...

It was a pity.

He liked them very much.

'Isn't this good? '

The goblin laughed.

'No one knows you are still alive, Mason Lyle. The fire will burn the tents to ashes, leaving nothing behind. You can change your appearance, under my guidance -'

Mason Lyle gloomy: 'Not guidance. '

'Ah, of course, it's your own intelligence. ' The goblin changed his words obediently: 'So, where are you going to take me? Back to where you first founded the circus? ’

Mason Lyle said nothing, lowered his head, and hurried.

He walked while brushing off the dust on his body, cut off the burn marks with a knife, and tried to let his coat touch the winter wind that blew it as much as possible to dissipate the pungent smell.

He sprinkled half a bottle of perfume to cover the blood on his body.

Now it smells...

‘I want a chance to leave the city. ’

Mason Lyle spoke bluntly.

He dared to order the goblin now because he discovered its ‘weakness’ - yes, it longed for its own soul, and it couldn't wait, and longed for it greedily.

But what made people laugh was.

It had no way to jump out of the bottle, as long as he didn't unscrew the cork himself.

It could only trade.

Trade again and again.

Incompetent little monster.

‘Of course, you will always get what you want. ’ The goblin was willing: ‘Cross the path on the right, wait for five minutes on the path, and you will have such an opportunity, Mason Lyle. ’

The path on the right?

The man frowned.

On the left is the main road, and in the distance is the public carriage station. Although it takes half an hour to walk there, you can definitely get a carriage.

On the right side of the road...

There are not many carriages.

'I want to leave London. '

He emphasized.

'Oh, why didn't I know you were leaving London. ' The fairy laughed: 'I'm talking about the way to get you out of London. Mason Lyle, do you want to listen to me, or follow your own ideas? '

Mason Lyle paused slightly.

Maybe...

No.

He understood what the fairy meant.

The station on the main road can indeed let him choose the cheapest and most experienced driver - but this will undoubtedly reveal the news that he is still alive.

Once the black man comes to the door, those goods with looser mouths than the skirts of the prostitutes will inevitably reveal their whereabouts to them - they will inevitably be described as 'pale hair', 'carrying a suitcase', and 'looking panicked'.

Even the dullest person can guess it is him based on the description.

Then... a little later? Wait until the sun sets...

No.

Every minute and every second is extremely important now.

Mason Lyle listened to the sinister laughter in the suitcase and curled his lips.

He found that he was getting smarter and smarter, and he could already guess the little monster's thoughts - yes, he had to choose that small road, and only the rare carriages on the small road could better hide his tracks.

It would be best if there was only one car.

By the time the lucky guy was really found out, he would have changed his appearance long ago and found himself free somewhere.

Now, the most important thing is to let as many people see you as little as possible, and delay the time when you are wanted as much as possible...

‘Of course I’ll take the side road. ’

Mason Lyle tilted his chin and turned on his toes.

The paths are much more eerie than the main roads. There are few people coming and going here, and those rich misers are not willing to spend their own money to provide convenience to others.

As a result, the road became increasingly deserted.

When human beings are excluded from the family by nature, everything they see will become more abiding by another cold absolute order: the tenacious vitality grows everywhere indiscriminately, the brainless idiots eat the vitality tenacious and the greedy and cruel Eat brainless idiots.

The birds seem to be out of the whole cycle here. The thick dead branches are intertwined in a network. They only need to keep a close eye on the egg thieves climbing the tree trunks. Apart from this, they have no other natural enemies.

Mason Lyle was shivering with cold and stamping his feet under a tree.

Cursing the goblin.

‘It’s been almost six minutes! ’

'If you could give the watch repairman a correct price, I think your time would be correct now. ’ The goblin mocked: ‘Didn’t he use his hair as a watch hand? This is cheaper. ’

Mason Lyle hammered the suitcase.

Boom.

Ta-ta.

Da da da…

This is the sound of horse hooves.

He looked through the dim light: at the end of the path, a carriage was slowly approaching.

Sitting at the front of the car was a young boy: he was wearing a common gray plaid hat, beige baggy canvas pants, and a bulging coarse cloth jacket that hadn't been washed for an unknown period of time.

He leaned against the carriage and placed a kerosene lamp in his hand.

"Kid! Stop!"

Mason Lyle lowered the brim of his hat and forced his usually smooth accent into a sharp, strange sound that only someone who could have his legs tightly together could shout.

"You're alive!" he shouted.

Creak, creak, creak…

The wheels stopped.