On August 20, Annick, the unscrupulous policeman described by the three robber brothers and sisters, got up early. The middleman he guarded died before his eyes. Even if he was just a prisoner, it was a serious fault.

Although Mr. Saul saw that his son came back safe and sound and helped to intercede, Annick still asked for unpaid leave on the 15th.

"Go back and calm down for half a month. Next time you encounter a situation like this where the victim is colluding with the kidnapper, remember to report it to the bureau." Director Ron was not too angry. He looked at his head bandaged like a rice dumpling and patted his shoulder.

I went to find Master Black Shadow.

The special operations department didn't take him seriously this time. They made a hasty record and let him go. As for Harvey, he was transferred directly to the crematorium and is now a handful of ashes.

"Shout out if you're not happy, I'm afraid you'll get upset." Spencer returned to the Special Operations Department at some point, his face was pale and there was no trace of blood.

"Are you okay, sir?" Annick asked sincerely this time.

"He was shot once, so it's not a big problem. Although the opponent deliberately used bronze bullets specially designed for vampires. He was not that good. I removed an arm. The fracture could not be healed in ten days and a half. It's a pity that he still had to let go.

He escaped. It's a residential area over there and it's too complicated to find anyone."

"Is the assassin a psychic?" Annick heard that Spencer's battle would not be as easy as he said.

"Of course he is a spiritual one. I can count all the saints in Eggsburg on two hands. Such a big man doesn't bother to assassinate, he can just kill us on the road."

"I'm just angry. Even if he is a murderer with a long history of crimes, if he is not sentenced to death by law, he should not be executed by lynching. He died under the gunpoint of others. Why do people here not only don't care but also feel a little lucky?

.”

"Because we can't see the light. Normal killers who commit so many cases will get a chance to be tried in public and then hanged. But if extraordinary people commit crimes, they must be killed on the spot. It is also difficult to capture them, and you can't drag them into the sunlight.

Put on trial."

"Why are you so afraid of the exposure of extraordinary power?" Annick asked a little doubtfully.

"In this way, the sanctity of the church will be gone, and what will happen once people know that there is a chance to obtain power beyond mortals? Anyway, there are many people who cannot survive, as long as they go through the struggle of life and death.

Opportunity awakens. The foundation of society is shaken."

"Then we can't set up a secret extraordinary court? The death row criminals will be given the death penalty."

"No, this kind of black box operation will scare the number of civilian extraordinary beings who are far more than the official number. They always have persecution delusions, and it will be a lot more troublesome to manage like this."

"So all the death row prisoners of extraordinary beings often die here? They are imprisoned until they die of old age."

"Yes, it's nothing more than a relief for Harvey." After Spencer finished speaking, he patted Annick on the shoulder.

Maybe this is the other side of the light, burning anger turns into bitter silence.

Annick thought of what Harvey had left for him yesterday, and decided to get on the bus and go to the South Gate.

The south gate of Eggsburg is the main thoroughfare connecting the city with the southern plain agricultural area, so there are particularly many farmers driving horse-drawn carriages to sell agricultural products in the morning.

"Fresh eggs, just taken out of the chicken coop in the morning, and warm eggs."

“Fish and chips, homemade potatoes and fresh sea fish.”

After struggling to squeeze through the crowd, Annick approached the patrolman standing guard in front of the south gate and knocked on the glass of the duty room.

"Brother, there is a blacksmith shop nearby."

"Who is your brother? Call the police officer." The middle-aged patrolman was wearing a uniform, showing his big belly. He was holding a copy of "Kelanger Businessman" in his hand and flipping through the horse racing section.

"Are the police allowed to watch horse racing news on duty?" Annick deliberately raised his voice.

"It's up to you to take care of it." The patrolman then raised his head and stood up after seeing the two V's on Annick's shoulder.

"Good morning, Mr. Sheriff, please come in." The patrolman hurriedly buttoned up and moved the newspaper away from the table.

"I won't go in. There is a blacksmith shop nearby."

"Over there, cross the street and turn left at the 10th intersection, and you will see a small blacksmith shop that specializes in making farm tools for farmers entering the field." The patrolman pointed to an alley to the east.

"Okay, be smart on duty."

"Okay, you're on your way."

A few minutes later, Annick found the blacksmith shop.

The two-story building is high, and a father and son are working outside. The son is pulling the bellows and blowing up the fire. The father is pulling out an iron bar from the roaring fire.

"Ping Pong Ping Pong." The red iron bar softened and deformed after being hit continuously by a small hammer, and finally turned into a curved sickle.

The old blacksmith picked up the sickle and put it into the wooden barrel next to it, which contained a mixture of grease and water.

"Bah." Along with the sound, white mist billowed out of the water.

"Are you free now?"

The old blacksmith took a look and told the young blacksmith: "Turn down the fire, and I'll go out for a while."

"Who are you looking for? What's the matter?"

"Ten years ago, an old customer deposited something with you and asked me to pick it up."

The old blacksmith was stunned when he heard this, and said softly: "How is this old customer?"

"He died yesterday. He was most likely assassinated by one of his own people."

"Oh, it's better to die. Just wait, I'll come back later."

The old blacksmith came back with a silver-white metal box in his hand.

"Aren't you afraid that I'm going to deceive you?" Annick pointed at his police uniform.

"You've come to deceive me a long time ago, why do you need to act like this? I'm just depositing an object. The police don't have the right to arrest me. Let's take a look at the thing."

The old blacksmith opened the box, and inside was a small knife wrapped in red cloth, with a long handle and short blade like a scalpel.

"It looks like a toy." Annick took a closer look and commented.

"Toy? There are at least dozens of souls who died under this knife. You should know about B-class sacred objects."

"You know, your spirituality hasn't been lost after being there for so long?"

The blacksmith knocked on the box, "This one is made of pure platinum. It is used to hold sacred objects for a long time to prevent their spirituality from losing their light."

Platinum? Annick immediately felt that the box was better than the scalpel.

"What is this knife called and what is its function?"

"It's called Blood Devouring, and its active skill is called Sharpness. If you hold it tightly, it will absorb your magic power, and then the blade can cut through any conventional substance."

"It sounds worthy of the title of B-level holy object, is there anything else?"

"Passive means it can absorb people's blood and restore injuries."

It also has a blood-sucking function? What a profit.

"Is this just B grade?"

"Yes, the scope of action is too small, and the side effects are too great?"

"I think the price is that you can't control your murderous intention?" Annick

"Almost, depending on the strength of willpower, people with weak willpower are more likely to fall into killing. In the end, they are manipulated by this knife into monsters that only know bloodthirsty."

Annick took the scalpel. Even in the sweltering summer, the knife in his hand still sent a biting chill.

I feel that the magic power in my body is constantly being sucked into the handle of the knife in my palm, absorbing about one-third of the stored magic power. The handle is no longer cold, but feels a little warm.

"Demon knife." Annick blurted out.

"The knife is dead, but the person is alive. The person who gave the knife to you must have believed that you can use it well and not follow his old path. Let's take the leather sheath together."
Chapter completed!