Otherworldly Merchant

“Russia?” I asked curiously, "Weren't the Sword of Dusk and the Box all from Europe? What can we find in Russia? ”

The T-shirt man replied very quickly this time: “I just checked for you, the Gallen family is so excluded that they were forced to move away from the bustling cities of Europe hundreds of years ago to Russia. Still unable to hold his heels, he moved to the great snowy fields of the Siberian hinterland. ”

“There is a Grand Canyon called Bokanstal, and the local language means the Valley of the Devil! Their family was isolated and lived there alone for hundreds of years. You should have found something there. I have a friend on the northeast side. You go ahead and I'll let him lead you. I still have a few things on my side that I can't get away with, so I'll go and help you as soon as I can. ”

“The Pulse Magic Box is known as Europe's # 1 shady thing. It can't be careless. If it's any later, it's harder to deal with it! Feeding blood alone is simply not enough to satisfy its killing heart. You go now, I'll arrange things for you there. ”

I only answered the word ’good' and dropped my phone and said to Li Mazi, who was looking everywhere for information: "I'm going to Russia. ”

Li Mazi stood still and didn't ask why.

We have worked together for so long, experiencing life and death, trusting each other completely out of brotherhood, and as long as I decide, he never asks why, some with full and unconditional support.

“When are you leaving? I'll get ready.” Li Mazi replied painfully.

“No need for anything else. I'll take the box. Buy more plasma from the hospital!” I said, "If this thing starts going crazy again, I can save your life. You don't have to follow me. I don't know what's going on over there right now. It could be very dangerous. ”

Li Mazi opened his mouth and finally didn't say anything.

I know he is a little uncomfortable, worried about what will happen to me, but he can't really help me, maybe it will become a burden...

Yin Xinyue happened to follow the crew outside. I was afraid she wouldn't tell her the truth. She just said she was going to Russia to do something small.

A few days later, using various relationships, Li Mazi bought two large backpacks of plasma to help me transport to the northeastern border near Russia.

Because the operation was dangerous and might involve some complicated forces, I did not process my passport, nor did I use official channels, but contacted the friend introduced by the T-shirt man directly.

Wuhan is late autumn, but the Heilongjiang River in the North is already covered in silver and full of ice cream.

I just got off the plane and two big puppets with sunglasses came up and said with great respect: "Master Zhang, this way please. ”

I've always known that the T-shirt guy, a friend of mine who was mixed up locally, was a real big brother, and these two were supposed to be his men.

I'm not polite at the moment, let them take my luggage and walk out of the airport.

There are eight black Hummer cars parked outside the airport.

Eight cars are consecutive license plates, standing upright in front of more than thirty puppet-shaped men, in front of a middle-aged man in a white mink coat.

He was about forty-five and six years old, not tall, but extremely sturdy, with a dark face, leaning over a very deep red scar, like a large centipede lying on his back, looking both cold and fierce.

“Han Song.” The man saw me come and took the first two steps to reach out.

“Zhang Jiulin.” I held each other's hand and gave my name.

The T-shirt man said that almost nobody in the area knew his name. Even if someone knew it, they wouldn't dare call him Master Han. Not only did he give me his name, but he also greeted me personally with such a ranking that he had great respect for the T-shirt man and was very polite with me.

His hands were stiff and powerful, and his nobody and pinky fingers were broken at the same time, and it seemed that the background experience was extremely difficult.

“Get in the car and talk.” He doesn't speak much, his tone is shady, and he smells like suicide in his mouth.

His voice just dropped, squeaking, coming from afar an extended Lincoln, extremely fast, yet steadily parked in front of us.

Walk up to the two black bodyguards, one left and one right to help us open the door.

Han Song and I got in the car, Lincoln flew right out, and eight Hummers started simultaneously. In the car walking room, more than three dozen big men quickly boarded the car, and four of the front and four of the back guarded the Lincoln cars we were riding in tightly.

It wasn't until then that I realized there were three people in the front seat of the car.

Two black bodyguards clamped a big man in a taupe brown down jacket, his hands tied, his head covered, and his mouth stuffed with black cloth, stuck tightly.

I couldn't figure out what was going on. I turned around and looked at Han Song.

Han Song pulled out two bottles of white wine from the refrigerator in the car, handed me one bottle, lifted the cap of the bottle himself, poured half of the bottle up his neck, and waved.

One of the black bodyguards took off the big guy's hood and pulled down the cloth that was stuck in each other's mouth.

It's a foreigner with blonde hair and blue eyes.

On his left and right face, he had three fingers and a long knife. The new flesh turned outward, the blood had not yet dried out, and his face was full of panic and panic. As soon as it was unraveled, it made a big difference.

But he speaks Russian, and I don't understand it.

Han Song pointed to him: “He is the head of the snake, Rococonut entered China through him, he said he only knew that Rococonut had been to the Valley of the Devil, the others were unclear. Anything else you want to ask him? ”

After listening to him, I was strange, I didn't expect the T-shirt man to talk to him so much, not to mention that this guy had such a sharp technique that he had found the snake head before I came here.

“Do you know where the Devil's Valley is?” I asked.

After the black bodyguard in the front seat translated, the man even shook his head and said a bunch.

A black bodyguard explained to me: "He said he only knew he was going in from Mount Cano, not knowing the exact path. Not only did he not know, but so did the vast majority of the inhabitants of Siberia. Years of snow and snow, often heavy snowstorms, it takes more than a month to walk even if you recognize the road, and there are beasts, almost no one has come out of the Devil's Valley alive. ”