Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1862: Rolling desire and darkness

This was not the first time that Lin Sanjiu experienced other people's memories and personalities, but this time, she could hardly tell where she ended and where Constantine began.

There was some kind of force that crushed her mercilessly, squeezing her and Constantine's pieces together like a big steel hand; she couldn't even tell the difference between "I Who is the personality of the thought? Is it her, Constantine, or a fusion of the two.

Is this a copy of the Twelve Realms, or is it a huge city called the City of Freedom that is unknown many layers of time and space away?

Lin Sanjiu opened her mouth gently, and the unfamiliar voice melted into an unfamiliar song, and was slowly dispersed by the microphone in the dimly lit club.

Costine's level is only average; it's just that she is very interesting tonight.

In the empty club, there were only two tables of men opposite, and two or three bottles of half-drank spirits on the table. Everything was as she had mastered and planned; no matter which side they were in, they knew nothing about the dark net heading towards them.

She had heard about the cadre named Juan, but now she saw that the man was as loose and tasteless as chewed sugarcane bagasse. Even if she was completely unprepared and a batch of goods was actually delivered, this person alone would not be considered a threat.

Constinet naturally had no interest in singing for the dead.

It's just that tonight is a bit important, so she would rather come and have a look in person.

When Juan led a group of people into the club, she was the security guard who stood in the shadows and opened the door for them. No one noticed that she was not actually a man. After all, she was half a head taller than the tallest person in the group.

Constiny lowered his eyes slightly, watching the group of people walking past him one by one, almost with a bit of joy, secretly wishing them success tonight.

It was at this time that she saw the young man with his head half lowered, his long hair disheveled covering his face, his hands in his trouser pockets, and he walked past her silently.

The dozen or so people did not sit down in the hall, but went directly up the stairs to the rooftop. About ten minutes later, they came down again and found two tables on the side of the stage to sit down. After looking at the place where they were about to start, the tension and excitement floating around them was so strong that it seemed as if they stretched out their hands. Can be encountered.

Constiny stretched out his arms to them from a distance, his long velvet gloves flickering under the lamp. Along with the next lyrics, she withdrew her hand, and her light golden fingertips slowly touched the face of the young man in the crowd in the distance.

The men who glanced at her probably thought that this action was part of the singer's performance.

Now that she took a closer look, she realized that he didn't seem to be a teenager; he was just as thin as a teenager, wearing a large coat, but it made him look more like he had not yet fully developed. But he looked to be at least eighteen or nineteen, so he should be an adult - for adult men, Constantine could safely send them on their way.

Huan didn't seem to notice at all that there were at least four people around him who didn't regard him as their leader. Constantine was born to be extremely sensitive to power, strength and manipulation; the secret obedience and quiet loyalty of those few people seemed to revolve around the same young man...

Huan asked him something, and the young man looked towards Constantine and shook his head.

She wanted to laugh.

Tonight was really good entertainment, something she didn’t often see in her life.

After a few inaudible conversations, the young man suddenly picked up the unmoving brandy in front of him and slowly wet his hair. Several people around him were stunned for a moment; but he just stretched out his hand and pushed his soaked black hair back, revealing a narrow face.

As if half shy and half uninterested, he lowered his eyelids slightly.

The wet eyelashes, the cheeks with wine dripping down, the tip of the nose, the glossy lips... The golden-orange liquor seemed to condense the halo, and the face shone like honey, only that The pair of shallow pupils suddenly fell into space.

...It's such a pity that such a child will die tonight.

It would be death, if only she could do it herself. When Constantine thought of this, he slightly suppressed a longing gasp. But no, the plan is the plan.

"Okay, no need to sing, wait until I come to you!"

When Juan led people upstairs, he turned around and shouted loudly to the stage.

She stopped singing and watched them walk out the door.

She thought that was the last time she saw the child; she did not expect that only thirty minutes later, he would open the door of her dressing room with injuries and a pale face.

When Constantine saw him in the mirror, she almost groaned - she managed to maintain the illusion of a "female singer" for another minute or two with great difficulty; it was too difficult, if she continued to pretend If it goes on for a long time, she might start to tremble all over.

"I kid you not, the soundproofing of this club is very good."

His hair was already dry, and when it slipped through his fingers, it still had a faint aroma of wine. A small pistol was buried deep in his black hair, almost obscured from view.

"However, I saw the general process on the rooftop from the surveillance camera... Are you the last person left? Welcome back."

Constiny was half-bent, looking at the same level as the person in the mirror. The difference in appearance between the two in the mirror was so stark; even when she looked at it, she felt as if the next second, she would press her lips down and **** out his blood.

Of course, Constantine is just a normal woman.

She stretched out her hand, pushed back the black hair that covered his face, and whispered: "You still look better like this, don't you?"

The Adam's apple in the mirror slid up and down.

A pair of eyes can be both light, transparent and bright, and also dark and empty.

"Drop the gun," she ordered in a murmured voice.

He opened his hand obediently, and the Scorpion submachine gun fell to the carpet with a muffled sound.

So...so good.

He was so good that people would kill him with just one shot.

"I have wondered before why not many people have seen the supplier in person..."

When he spoke, his eyes never left Constantine's eyes in the mirror, as if he was afraid that if he opened his eyes, Constantine would disappear. I don't know if it was because of the injury, but his voice was hoarse. It felt like the edges of his nails were scratching her spine.

"So, the person you put on the train..."

"There are also troubles around me that need to be solved."

On the contrary, Konstinai didn’t understand—this should be something that can be thought of immediately. As soon as she learned that someone was going to attack the most important shipment in recent times, she knew who to send aboard.

He doesn't look stupid, so he shouldn't be unable to figure this out.

Constinai's answer made him frown.

"You originally wanted to use our hands to kill the people you wanted to kill for you. Then the second car you arranged will kill us all when we relax our vigilance... Right?"

Constiny smiled slightly.

Her hand that was not holding the gun pressed on his bare shoulder, using the warmth as a point of support; she stretched one foot and kicked it far away from the chair. That Scorpion submachine gun.

In just two sentences, this boy - no, this young man, with his uninjured leg, had quietly moved closer to the chair.

"I almost forgot, the gun is still here." Her voice almost came from her nose.

After Juan waited for the group to leave, she couldn't help it and drank a little brandy alone in the dressing room. Constantine also didn't expect that he would need to take action tonight.

The gun was clearly kicked away; but the face in the mirror suddenly smiled, making her doubt his age again for a moment.

"I really have a doubt."

He seemed to know that every time he opened his mouth to speak, he was extending his life by a few seconds.

"It seems that your surveillance coverage is not large...or you can't see clearly at night." He leaned on the back of the chair, raised his head slightly, and the back of his head was almost against the muzzle of her gun, and he used her gun to do it. The pillows are average.

Constiny's fingertips gently caressed and caressed the trigger.

He must have heard that small sound too. At this time, it seemed that the whole world had died, and only the two of them were left; in the silence closed by the dressing room door, even the moist curling of lips and tongues when opening their mouths to speak could be heard.

"Then tell me?"

"I didn't kill the person you put on the train."

Constiny felt his eyebrows jump slightly.

He caught it; and she knew he caught it. "When I came to the door of the second carriage, I felt as if I had been abandoned. There was no sound or light inside."

Knowing that he might be talking nonsense, Constantine still couldn't help but ask: "Oh?"

Because the surveillance coverage of the club she saw was indeed not large enough, and she also thought about why the shootout ended so early and so violently.

“So I climbed out of the train,” he whispered in Costinette’s ear, as if telling her a story, “and climbed onto the second carriage. I slid down the side of the carriage and towards the window. I took a look..."

"What did you see?"

The two figures in the mirror seemed to be rubbing each other~IndoMTL.com~ in the smell of blood and the metallic smell of bullets, intertwined with each other.

"It was pitch black."

"Are you deliberately making me angry?" Constantine bit his blood-red lips and almost laughed.

"No, you don't understand."

But he suddenly seemed serious and said in a calm tone: "Moonlight, the light in the first carriage, the light of neon signs, the lights of nearby buildings... the outside world is not pitch black. I mean, ink The same darkness... except that in the second carriage, there were thick black masses like ink. The light reflected in seemed to shine on the weightless masses of ink. The masses of ink black slowly floated in the air. The ground rolled."

Constiny straightened up. She has no interest in fantasy.

"Your subordinates are also rolling together in the darkness. One of them has an image of the Virgin carved on his arm..." He raised his eyes and said.

For the first time, their eyes truly met.

Constiny shuddered and had goosebumps.