When he mentioned the words "Watchmen," the dangerous man lowered his voice instinctively, as if afraid of being overheard.
He kept his head down, carefully observing his surroundings while waiting for the other person's reply.
But he was ultimately disappointed. No hidden door appeared in the wall, nor was there any messy unfolding; nothing had changed at all.
No one's voice echoed; the hospital's emergency exit remained silent.
He squinted, his facial muscles contorting uncontrollably, and his body hair showed signs of growth.
But in the end, he held back and said in a hoarse voice:
“Your Excellency, I know it’s against the rules to come here to see you, and I don’t know your plans, but we need your help right now.”
Suppressing his anger, he continued in a deep voice:
“The rituals on the surface have been broken three times, and their tentacles have begun to spread throughout the region. Our presence will be exposed sooner or later.”
"The Watchers' lackeys are gradually approaching our true ritual circle. We need your instructions on what to do next."
"Is it proceeding as originally planned? Or are there other instructions? We need an explanation now."
"Could it be that you're afraid of being discovered by those Watchers' lackeys?"
After a long while, there was still no response; the silent stairwell seemed to be mocking him without a word.
It seems to be saying that it doesn't need much explanation who is truly afraid.
Veins bulged at his temples, and he could no longer contain his anger, slamming his fist heavily against the annoying wall.
call!
Although he reacted at the last moment and tried his best to stop, the wind from his punch still made the posters on the wall rustle.
He knew the other person was watching; he could sense it. The other person was coldly observing him, judging him with an annoying gaze.
Perhaps he's still waiting for me to bow down to him before slowly revealing himself, like a kind elder forgiving my recklessness.
To hell with him!
"...Very well! Since you're not going to answer, it seems you really are treating us like pawns."
But now that things had come to a head, the man was too lazy to pretend anymore.
“Then we will complete our Lord’s mission in our own way.”
If you've already been spotted and are on alert, why hide?
Besides, it was the pastor in the church who set the plan and sought help, not himself, so why should he lower himself?
Do you want to become a coward when things go wrong with your plans?
How can someone with such behavior and such a bad record continue to serve the gods?!
In his mind, the other person was already a coward and a piece of trash destined to be abandoned by the gods, no longer worthy of his respect!
Then, with a look of madness in his eyes, he said, word by word:
"You may not care about our lives, but I hope you can understand one thing."
“If you fail to complete your mission, no matter who you are, no one can save you.”
His tongue traced across his sharp canines, as if he were anticipating that day.
"At that time, I expect you to remain silent as you are now."
But he received no response until the man left.
The man looked like he was talking to himself in a trance, staring at a wall.
But what he didn't notice was that the moment he pushed open the door, a black feather landed on the back of his neck and disappeared in an instant.
Completely unaware, he stormed out of the lobby, bumping into several anxious family members of patients along the way.
Shortly after he left, a figure quietly appeared in the emergency exit, right where he had been standing.
Wearing a hooded robe with the hem completely still, he looked as if he had been standing there for a long time.
He held a black book inlaid with gold thread. He was of medium height but extremely thin. Even though he was shrouded in a black robe, his withered body could be vaguely seen underneath.
The hood covered the upper half of his face, revealing a withered chin. The hooded man shook his head in the direction the man had left.
"It's clearly your own inability to see me, so how can it be that I don't want to see you?"
"Foolish, nonsensical."
"You're asking for help, and you're acting like this? You must really have no brains."
The man never imagined that the "pastor" he was looking forward to meeting would speak of him with such contempt.
"Bloodline lineages are never short of foolish 'bewitched' individuals who are attracted by the illusory power and fall into the other party's trap step by step, eventually becoming devout slaves without even realizing it."
"They are just like wild beasts, full of instinct but lacking wisdom."
He slightly bent his fingertips, tapped them lightly a few times on the book, and scoffed:
"How ridiculous."
"And to act so impulsively under these circumstances, are you really worried that Overwatch won't be able to find you?"
"If it weren't for the fact that it was just a little bit too late, and I didn't want you to ruin my plans, I wouldn't care whether you trash live or die."
"Just a little bit more time, just a little bit more! Sigh..."
He sighed helplessly, opened the heavy book in his hands, found a page, and read it aloud softly:
"God said, 'I am without shadow, without form, and untraceable.'"
"God said, 'When you are in my divine realm, you will also enjoy glory.'"
As he closed the book, a strange glint flashed in the shadows beneath his hood—a mockery directed at no one in particular.
Praise be to our Lord!
The hoarse, dry chant stirred up a strange power in the space, which vanished in an instant, leaving no trace.
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