Chapter 561

Standard imperial calendar, 930.m41

Human Empire, storm domain, Nathan IV

Edson Schmidt, an employee of Somus chaodu air transport authority, followed the crowd through the street.

People walked past him, bumped into him and pushed him away as they were on their way, but no one looked at him. At most, they glanced at him and thought about who the guy who didn't take a bath, had a beard and stood in their way.

He doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys it: he just walks, doesn't need to go where he wants to go, and let his heart float at will.

No way, who made him so unlucky and made a friend, but it turned out to be a trap.

Now he can't advance or retreat.

He smiled at the thought.

When a guard saw him, he must think Edson was laughing at himself, because Edson saw him frown and ready to speak.

Edsson immediately saluted, bowed his head respectfully, and went on.

He didn't know where he was going, but it didn't matter. Now it was the best situation he could desire.

"Edson Schmidt."

At the first time, he didn't listen to this sentence clearly, and didn't bother to look back.

The call must have been his mistake. It was a similar syllable separated from dozens of sounds and hurried footsteps.

"Edson Schmidt."

This time the sound came from behind him, and he felt a hand on his shoulder.

So he subconsciously stretched out his hand to reach for the pistol hidden in his pocket.

"No, no, my friend."

The voice said, this time in his ear.

It was a soft voice with a sticky tongue, which seemed to be the accent of the bottom nest.

The next second, he felt the tip of a sword against the skin above his right kidney.

"I don't want to hurt you, but you must come with me."

Edsson felt a crack open in the depths of his mind.

"Who are you?"

He asked in a very quiet voice. Around him, many people hurried by without noticing or caring.

"A servant of your friend who wants to see you again."

Edsson felt the pressure of the blade move under his left arm, and the hand holding his shoulder released.

A man came behind him, close to his left.

The man put a hand on his shoulder as if they were old friends and no one else could see the sword.

When Edson looked at the man, he unconsciously showed a shocked expression.

The man was wearing a crimson uniform with black cross decoration. Under the pointed hat, a wide, shaved face was smiling at him.

"I'm sorry to hold you with a sword, but I serve our common friend. I can't let you refuse this invitation."

The man's accent suddenly changed: it was simple and powerful, with no accent at all.

Edsson could smell the faint smell of wine and smoke from his breath, as if he had just come down from the card table.

The government employee's mind is running at high speed. Fatigue and shock are mixed and blurred.

"I see."

Edson looked at him.

The man who looked like a traffic commander smiled and nodded:

"He's not far away. Come with me."

Five minutes later, he arrived at the meeting place - an abandoned warehouse.

The room is small, which is equivalent to a chalky box hidden behind a small door. It is located at the end of a quiet corridor. It seems to have been forgotten.

A lighting ball was chained to the ceiling, splashing dim light.

On the floor were three plastic steel crates with worn edges and covered with a thick layer of dust.

The room was also full of dust - the smell of dust and dirty air.

Edson glanced at the room and turned to face the man in red uniform.

"Wait here."

Said the man, reaching out to close the monotonous metal door.

Edsson took a breath and pressed his fingers against his eyes.

His hands trembled on his eyelids, trying to calm his mind and think about what to do next.

"Hello, my friend."

At this sound, Edson suddenly opened his eyes.

The man standing inside the door smiled friendly and bowed slightly.

He was tall and looked middle-aged, but his eyes revealed that he was much older than he looked.

On his thin body, he wore a suit of work clothes full of oil and poor workmanship. The sleeves rolled up, revealing his lean but muscular arms, and some hair loss heads glittered in the light.

He took a step forward with a smile.

"Mr. zorg."

Edsson called out the man's name neatly.

"Nice to meet you,"

Said edsson, in a loud voice, calm and slow,

"I'm sorry, it must be a bit shocking. I've been here... For some time, but I think it would be best if our two fates had not intersected. After all... Things have changed since we last met."

Edsson just stared at zorg.

He recalled that when the two met for the first time, the identity of the other party was still a powerful rich man. He not only had strong financial resources, but also had many "friends" in government departments. At that time, his daughter changed into a serious disease and needed very expensive medical equipment.

Zorg also looked at him, as if he were recalling the same moment.

"Many things have changed, but both of us are still here."

Edsson felt a pain in his chest.

He took a breath and felt his heart full of anger, hot and sour.

So he suddenly rushed up, raised his hand, grabbed zorg's smooth neck, pressed the cunning liar against the wall, squeezed and squeezed again.

Then his hands were empty.

Edsson's whole world suddenly spun and fell, and then he was out of breath.

He fell to the floor and felt the last bit of air in his lungs pressed out of his mouth. He could only roll and gasp.

Zorg stood above him with his head down and his hands hanging on both sides.

"You should have used a knife."

Zorg smiled and raised his hand to show edsson a knife he was holding in his left hand.

His eyes followed the blade down until they met edsson's eyes.

"If you want to kill a man, you should kill him with one blow."

Edson endured the pain in his chest, and the anger remained, but was bound by the pain until they were one.

He rolled on his knees and took a big breath.

"What else do you want from me? You've made me a traitor!"

The little employee gasped, struggling to get up.