Notre Dame de Paris.

Above the devastated land, a hazy fog permeated the blood pool, and a strong fishy smell filled the air.

One body after another fell in the broken ruins, motionless, their bodies strangely twisted, and it was unknown how many bones were broken, with only a trace of breath left.

In the center of the battlefield that looked like a meteorite crater, a figure in a black cloak stood quietly. The breeze blew across the wide hood, and the words "04" on the brim swayed in the wind.

In front of him, there were still three agents left, staggering and trying to keep their balance. They looked at No. 04 with horror in their eyes.

Squeak——!

The ancient door made a muffled sound, and five minutes were up. No. 03 pushed the door open and walked out of Notre Dame de Paris.

He glanced at the messy battlefield, with sarcasm in his eyes. He calmly walked to No. 04 and spoke slowly:

"There are still three left... Your strength has declined, Hephaestus."

"I held back." No. 04 said calmly, "These guys are all very strong. If they are too badly injured now...it will be difficult for them to help us."

"That's right." No. 03 looked around, "Where are the other agents? You didn't kill them, did you?"

"No."

"That's good. There are quite a few good talents here. Although their combat effectiveness is not strong, they can come in handy at critical moments."

No. 03 took a step forward and dragged out more than a dozen agents from among the half-dead agents, throwing them on the ground like corpses.

No. 03 lifted up the head of one of the agents. The number "22" was clearly engraved on the blood-stained brim of his hat.

"And this guy, he has been to the King's Treasury, he should know some key clues but he didn't tell us."

No. 03 raised his hand and tapped him on the forehead. A ray of light surged into his body. No. 22, who was in a semi-comatose state, whimpered twice and was thrown to the ground.

No. 03 did the same thing, patting the heads of the unconscious agents one by one, and finally walked up to the three agents who were still barely standing.

"No. 09, No. 17, No. 38... Thor, Vishnu... Ra? The Egyptian Sun City was destroyed, but there are agents who have escaped?" No. 03 stared at No. 38 in surprise. After a moment, he sneered, "An agent of the Supreme God with no background is a perfect candidate."

The three agents stared at No. 03 and No. 04, and No. 09's eyes were full of confusion:

"Why...why did two gods sneak into the agent's party? How is this possible..."

No. 03 walked up to him and spoke with interest:

"I'm very curious, what did the prophet No. 33 tell you that made you so united to deal with the two of us?"

Under the pressure of No. 03's might, No. 17 remained silent for a moment and recounted what had happened.

“He really knew our identities… and used the information of the agents of the two gods to trick them into dealing with us, so he escaped ahead of time.

This prophet is indeed not a simple person. "

No. 04 said in a deep voice.

"His target should also be the King's Treasury. He might already be on his way there..." No. 03 narrowed his eyes slightly. He actually felt a sense of urgency from this mysterious agent of the God of Prophecy and Magic.

He glanced at the three agents in front of him and spoke lightly,

"Now, you have two choices, either die, or... help us do something."

…

As No. 03 and No. 04, along with more than a dozen agents, disappeared into the fog, the ruined city fell into silence again.

Inside Notre Dame de Paris.

No. 01, who witnessed the entire process on the second floor, frowned slightly.

"Two Olympians..."

He stood there like a sculpture for a long time, walked down the stairs, and saw No. 02 slumped in the middle of the hall, and snorted coldly.

A cold, machine-like voice came from under the hood: "No. 02, it's time for you to leave."

“But, but…”

No. 02 stretched out his hand and pointed at the devastated ruins outside Notre Dame, his eyes full of fear and terror.

He also exchanged the information of the two gods' agents from Lin Qiye. If No. 01 had not suddenly changed to leave in reverse order, he would probably be one of the people lying outside now.

"They've left, you can leave now." No. 01's voice contained no emotion.

No. 02 glanced at the dead silence of the fog outside the door, staggered to his feet, gritted his teeth and hesitated for a moment, tightened his hood, rushed straight into the fog, and left.

In the empty Notre Dame de Paris, only No. 01 was left, wandering in the ancient hall.

He slowly walked to a remote room, took out a list from the compartment, and read it carefully.

"Number 09, Jack Claude, agent of Thor, the god of thunder from Asgard, Northern Europe, and ranked sixth among the Ten Imperial Guards."

"Number 17, Prakash, one of the three supreme gods in the Hindu temple, agent of Vishnu, and ranked fourth among the Ten Gods."

"No. 38, Bifitu, agent of the Egyptian Sun City's Supreme God 'Ra', ranked second among the Ten Imperial Gods..."

"These guys in Olympus are really generous in order to get the King's Treasury."

No. 01 snorted coldly.

He took the list and walked to a wall full of brass tubes, then raised his hand and opened the screw caps of the brass tubes.

At the moment the cap was opened, a slight buzzing sound came from the tube and echoed in the room. If you listened carefully, you could hear the conversation between two people.

This is not an artifact that contains divine power. These brass tubes are just simple metal phonographs that have been modified. Each brass tube is connected to a trading room on the second floor.

Since there was no fluctuation of mental power or divine power and it was just a product of pure physics, even the gods did not notice its existence. Everyone thought that this was a special pipeline that had existed in this ancient building.

No. 01 sat quietly by the pipe, listening carefully to the transaction recordings in each room, one after another.

After listening to all the transaction information, he took a deep breath and stood up from his seat.

"Brown Miles... The King's Treasury... Gilgamesh..." He wandered alone in the small room, thinking about something with his head down. "Perhaps, I can use this opportunity to muddy the waters of Asgard..."

He stopped in front of the narrow glazed window and glanced at the corner of the room, where there were three corpses that had been there for who knows how long.

These three corpses are exactly the same in size and appearance, except that the one in the middle is the original body, while the other two are shriveled clones.

"No. 01, Ram Bader, the agent of Mahoragi of the Indian Temple, ranked seventh among the Ten Imperial Guards." No. 01 looked down at the list in his hand, and spoke softly to the three identical corpses in the corner.

"Thanks to you, I was able to gather so much information at once... and improve my plan."

He held the brim of his hat with "01" written on it with both hands and slowly took it off. The dim light shone through the glass-like windows and reflected on the ordinary girl's face under the brim of the hat.

The corner of her mouth curled up into a faint smile.

Agent of the God of Trickery,

Si Xiaonan.