Chapter 149 (2/2)

Hessen didn't know when he lit a big cigar. He took two puffs of smoke and puffed out a few puffs of smoke. Then he said in an impassioned voice, ”the place where some taboos are suppressed. Joe, this is the broken slate you seized two days ago

Joe's eyebrows raised.

He remembered the black stone slab on Rafa's chest, which had greatly suppressed Rafa's strength and overwhelmed his body.

Rafa says it's taboo?

Port Tulun, under the inspector general's residence, is there a special place to seal down such taboos?

Spiral staircase to the end, here is a 100 feet long, 20 feet wide room. Like the claustrophobic hall under the capital of Heidelberg, the walls of the room were dark, and on the walls stood statues much smaller than ten feet high.

Below these statues, there are also doors one by one.

However, the door of the seclusion was about the same size as the ordinary door. The door was no more than eight feet high, which made Joe and Hessen feel a little cramped.

Sean, awed and curious, took a quick glance at the seclusion. Then he took a deep breath, took Hessen and Joe to the innermost door of the room and knocked three times on the black, silver lined door.

”Here they are, sir.” Sean exclaimed.

Inside the door came the cold voice of vigrahl: ”Monsieur Hessen, and officer Joe, please come in. It's about to start Sean, you come in, young man. You need to learn more. ”

Sean's face turned red. He grabbed the handle of the door excitedly, pushed the door open gently, and said in a loud voice, ”yes, sir Come in, Monsieur Hessen, and Sergeant Joe. ”

Behind the door was a short silver corridor.

At the end of the silver corridor was a small room about twenty feet long and wide.

In the inner part of the room was an old wooden desk with a dull mechanical typewriter on it.

Vigrah stood at his desk, with the embarrassed Marquis of sijak on his left and the impatient Duke of Roth in his right hand, which was rapidly fanned with a small folding fan in his right hand.

In the corner of the room, an old man with short stature, pale complexion and cold breath like a corpse stood there quietly.

When Joe entered the door, he looked around subconsciously. His eyes swept over the old man, and his heart suddenly took out. The potion of abyssal Ephemeroptera improved his perception.

But he just failed to notice the existence of the old man. In his perception, the corner was clearly a blank.

Joe looked at the old man a little more. The old man turned his head and grinned at Joe with a smile that didn't smile.

Joe nodded to the old man, and his attention was drawn to the twisted iron gray lines on the wall. The messy, messy, iron gray lines like children's graffiti made Joe feel that there were many huge Hydra wriggling and struggling on the wall, as if to break through the wall and break into the world.

In the air, there was a sharp roar.

”Hiss”, ”hisses”, ”hisses” It makes people cold and stiff. It's the instinctive roar of some terrible creature when hunting Danger, terror, great danger, great terror

The air is wriggling, the void is twisting, the huge pressure is emanating from the void, and the bloody gemstones inlaid on the walls twinkle with cold and cruel fierce light, as if they are going to follow people's eyes and get into your brain all the time.

Inexplicably, Qiao began to breathe slowly and long with the breathing rate in the basic breathing method of the imperial army

Inexplicably, those twisted wriggling lines on the wall stopped.

The invisible pressure is gone.

The fierce light in the blood colored gems has become clear and wise Yes, these lifeless gemstones, their flash, but give people a kind of wisdom and brilliance which has experienced countless years of ancient existence

Joe looked at the typewriter on his desk.

Joe swore that before he could see what the damned typewriter looked like, he heard the sound of typing in his head.

Joe saw the latest mechanical typewriter in Tifa's study.

As a probationary judge in port Tulun district court, Tifa had too much paperwork to finish in the district court and had to work overtime at home all night.

Joe had heard about Tifa's typing.But the damn typewriter, the ”dada” he made in Joe's mind was so dense, so loud

”Da da da da da da da da...”

It's like 10000, a million tiffas typing at the same time.

On Joe's skin, a small, clear block of words continued to emerge, as if hit by a burning iron needle