mousepad-d2 Chapter 86 Special Counsel
Chapter 86 Special Counsel
"Another horse came out, and it was red. Power was given to the rider to take peace from the earth, and to make men fight each other and kill each other."
Cyril lowered her head slightly, held the mobile phone, and read the text that popped up from the search engine after entering the two keywords "red horse" and "apocalypse", and read it to Cassidio word by word.
"This is recorded in the Book of Revelation..." Cyril touched the tip of his nose, "So the person riding the red horse is a war knight? Then according to the above records, famine should ride a black horse." yes."
The ice cream in Cassidio's hand had already melted a bit, and he stuck out the tip of his tongue to lick the cream that flowed out.
There is still a circle of slightly green stubble on this angel's chin, and the hair that has not been taken care of at first glance is strewn casually. With the beige windbreaker he has worn for an unknown amount of time, he does not look like an angel. It looks like a middle-aged down-and-out man who is unemployed.
"But the wheelchair he's sitting in is black." Quickly swallowing the ice cream that was about to melt, Cassidio threw the package into the trash can, wiped his hands with a paper, and said very seriously, " You have to learn to move with the times."
Cyril: "???"
After throwing away the garbage, Cassidio turned around, still dazed, as if he suddenly remembered something: "By the way, Dean wants to lock Sam in a small dark room to get rid of blood addiction, so as to prevent Lucifer from taking the opportunity Trouble. So, regarding the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, I am now your only professional consultant, should you send me some certificate?"
Cyril: "What documents?"
Cassidio took out a black ID inlaid with a large golden badge from his pocket, stretched it out and shook it in front of Cyril.
This is the official FBI ID.
"This is a false testimony given by Dean. He said that he had to pretend to be an official if he wanted to investigate something in human society," Cassidio quickly explained, fearing that Cyril really misunderstood him as an FBI agent. "If I work with you now, can you send me a real ID?"
Cyril: "...I want to know why heaven sent you down here now."
Cassidio: "What do you mean?"
The elf smiled pretentiously and gracefully, with charming smile lines in the corners of his eyes: "It's nothing, their decision is great."
—
Today's Gotham City is a little different from the past.
The sun was covered by layers of dark clouds, and the whole sky was a cool gray. The humidity in the monsoon-climate city near the sea was heavy, and a bit of salty sea breeze could be vaguely smelled. Most of the pedestrians on the road carry an umbrella with them and travel in a hurry.
Gordon was sitting in the bar, drinking a glass of cheap whiskey, absent-mindedly listening to the nonsense of two underage gangsters from the Irish gang/gang who were separated by a few seats.
Everyone knows that Chief Gordon of the Gotham Police Department is a die-hard fan of Batman. Once there is something that the police can't solve, he will turn on the Bat Light.
But also because of this, a few days ago, he was temporarily suspended for investigation because of "leaking the internal information of the police station", and was forced to go home and pick his feet, waiting for the results of the investigation team.
This kind of thing is not surprising to Gordon. Everyone knows that Gordon is a policeman who is willing to do things, not corrupt, and has a good ability. It is rare in the Gotham Police Department. In a few days, the police station will be a mess. He will be invited back to preside over the overall situation.
But this time, by coincidence, something went wrong in Gotham during his suspension.
Gordon took another swig of his drink and felt dizzy.
A gust of steamy wind rushed in from the door, and a policeman with a belly fat who clearly exceeded the standard pushed the door open.He was wearing a shabby brown trench coat with a sparse head, and he was Gordon's partner who had been working with him since he first entered the Gotham Police Department.
Gordon glanced up at his old buddy and waved to him, "Brock!"
Bullock obviously rushed all the way here, and he was a little out of breath from the bad living habits of Houthi eating all the time. He sat down next to Gordon, threw out a stack of folders with the seals removed, and complained: "These two Today's cases are all here, if the Gotham Police Department is afraid that Batman will hack the database and steal the data if it is uploaded to the Internet, I don't have to do this kind of errand work."
Gordon shrugged: "I don't understand why they still reject Batman so much."
Bullock knew exactly what those bureaucrats were thinking, and he sneered: "Even you have to say that Batman is an extrajudicial lyncher? If 90.00% of our major criminal cases are solved by Batman If this kind of thing is widely advertised, do you want to have an official face?"
Gordon sighed deeply, didn't speak any more, and lowered his head to start flipping through the files.
Bullock unceremoniously took the glass in Gordon's hand, raised his head and drank it down.After finishing his drink, he stood up and patted Gordon on the shoulder, before leaving neatly.
Seeing him leave, Gordon roughly flipped through the thick file, and then put it back in the folder.He went to the window of the bar, pushed it open, and stretched out the arm with the folder.
Less than five seconds later, a black Batmobile drove by at lightning speed, and the file in Detective Gordon's hand disappeared.
Gordon withdrew his empty hand and couldn't help but smile wryly.
He knew in his heart that Batman had his own surveillance system that monitored the entire Gotham day and night. Maybe Batman already knew about those cases when they just happened.However, as a "lyncher", it takes a lot of time and energy to obtain the confession of the person involved afterwards.
What Batman wants is the incident described by the parties himself, so as to infer whether there is any connection between these sudden violent/chaotic conflicts.
Thinking of his colleagues still trying to use the ancient means of paper documents to defend against Batman, Gordon felt dizzy even more.
"Strange," he shook his head, "I didn't drink much."
Just when Gordon stood up to check out and wanted to leave the bar and go home before it rained, the two Irish gangsters who had been chattering finally clashed with the bar owner.
The bar owner who was protected by Gotham godfather Falcone turned blue, obviously very angry.The irascible Italian directly copied an MP5 submachine gun from the counter, pulled the safety catch back, and shouted: "Get out of my bar!"
Gordon frowned, and instinctively wanted to take out his police officer's ID, but found that his ID had been temporarily detained by the investigation team.
The other people in the bar were not surprised by this, they were either drinking on the sidelines, or they were watching the excitement, which was not a big deal.
After all, the Italian gangs and Irish gangs in Gotham City have just had a truce. As low-level gangsters, if they go to war without authorization, they may face the anger of the upper-level. They are old fritters, organized in Gotham No gang member would do that.
But this time it seemed a bit unexpected. The bar owner didn't know what stimulated him, so he pulled the trigger unexpectedly.
The metal bullets twirled and tumbling, raising dust on the unclean ground, the smell of gunpowder became stronger, and the bar suddenly fell into chaos.
In a daze, Gordon felt someone holding his head and pushing him behind a fallen aluminum table.He turned his head and looked at the other person. The man looked handsome, but there were already deep wrinkles on his face, and he looked quite old.
"It's really chaotic," said the man who was quite courageous and could still laugh under such circumstances, "Why did they suddenly fight?"
The two huddled in the corner and were not affected. Gordon smiled wryly: "Who told this to be Gotham—and walking to the front right is the toilet of the bar. From there, you can find the back door. Let's go."
"Aren't you going?"
Gordon shook his head: "I'm a policeman."
The other party raised his eyebrows, and a cold light flashed in his iron-gray eyes. He pressed Gordon's shoulder, "Then I'll go first, and I wish you good luck."
Gordon hid under the window with the desk up and watched the man leave.
After half a minute, the sound of the engine sounded, and Gordon saw the well-meaning man driving a retro red Mustang 1965 into the street. The stylish old car was obviously well maintained.
The man whistled cheerfully at Gordon as he passed the window.
"Gotham is full of lunatics." Gordon secretly cursed in his heart.
After listening to a few gunshots, Gordon calculated that the bar owner's magazine was empty. He jumped up from behind the table, dropped a few fists, and took the opportunity to subdue the opponent.
Then, the former police chief, who was old and strong, personally captured the two young gangsters and handcuffed them all to the sewer pipe at the entrance of the bar.
One of them had been shot in the abdomen and was bleeding profusely.The top of the other's head had been grazed by a bullet, half its hair missing, and its scalp smelled of burnt protein.
Gordon called the police and ambulance and waited for the ambulance to arrive.
But today's Gotham City is too chaotic. The old sheriff waited for almost 10 minutes, but instead of waiting for a police car, he waited for an elf with pointed ears.
"Do you mind if I save them first?"
Cyril, who came out of the portal, looked down at the two people lying on the ground, and then turned to look at Gordon, who was in handcuffs on his belt.
Gordon knew Cyril.
As the spiritual leader of the earth's fight against the undead, there are hardly a few people on the street who don't know Cyril.
"Please."
Xi Ruier squatted down, took out two bottles of blood recovery medicine from the backpack, opened the mouths of the two underage gangsters, and poured them in.
When the elf was saving someone, Gordon found that there was a person behind him—a beige windbreaker with blue eyes. Although he looked very handsome, he looked a little decadent and dull, and always had a temperament that was drifting away from things. .
Gordon looked at it curiously.
Cassidio felt uncomfortable being looked at by him, and suddenly remembered what Dean had said to him, and felt that Gordon might be questioning himself.So, he took out a small gray-green book from the inner pocket of the windbreaker, opened it, handed it to Gordon's eyes, and pointed to the words on it.
"I am the special advisor of 'Bright' heaven. The federal government and the United Nations General Assembly have granted me temporary and full powers to deal with such incidents. You should cooperate with my actions and do not raise any questions."
Cyril, who had just finished her work, raised her head: "???"
Gordon coughed twice: "I didn't question what you meant...but you seem to have taken it upside down."