In the quiet cafe, a faint roar came from afar.

The guests in the seat looked up uneasily in the distance, but they could not see anything, and the street was quiet.

The patrol guards politely told those who asked for help that only a small thing happened and would be resolved soon. Please stand in place and do not panic or run.

Soon, a waiter carrying a plate politely distributed verification bracelets and the nearest shelter map to each customer. He did not rush or ease his early preparation and successfully comforted the uneasiness of some people.

"Sir, your bracelet and map."

When the waiter came to the corner, he saw the man sitting in the chair.

The skinny man turned his back to the door and looked down at the chessboard in front of him.

It’s a pity that no one came to play chess with him.

Only the broken pieces on the chessboard gradually appeared cracks, and just as the waiter approached, the last two pieces fell apart.

Strangely, the glass pieces on the chessboard seem to have only one side, and they are all chariots and bishops.

Only the lonely king is still in the hands of the chess holder.

When the chess player is focused, it seems that there is some strange magic that makes the surroundings quiet and cannot bear to disturb them.

The waiter hesitated and stood beside him. He raised his head.

The two blue eyes in the deep eye sockets moved flexibly, making the waiter unable to help but take a step back.

Being looked at by this thin man, it seems that he is staring at something bad, which makes people furrow all over his body. But his words are low and full of magneticity, making people feel close and trustworthy.

"Is there anything wrong?" he asked.

The waiter hesitated and handed over the plate: "This is your verification bracelet, and the map of the recent shelter, if something happens, you can go quickly."

"I will."

He smiled at the waiter and stressed softly again: "I will."

His smile was kind and kind, which was reassuring. The waiter couldn't help but smile and turned around and left in a happy mood.

Leave him alone to face the silent chessboard and meditate.

Until his hand, a tragic trace appeared on the pawn representing the king.

In a trance, some whine seemed to be heard from afar.

"Is the ruler's wail?"

He murmured softly: "It seems that there is no difference from the voice of the ruled."

"Don't you feel sorry? Mr. Morando."

Opposite him, a low and elegant voice came from the empty seat, with a reserved Roman accent.

The middle-aged man, who was like a phantom, held a delicate cane in his hand, was wearing a dress, his faintly white temples rested neatly and serious, and his long hair was combed behind his head.

He asked curiously: "Or the tragic ending of the superior you believe in, don't you feel a little guilty when you stand by?"

"Guilty? Why?"

Morando asked back: "Because of my former belief?"

"That's exactly." The elegant man nodded.

"I think you made one mistake, Mr. Mathers."

Morando shook his head slightly and smiled and mocked: "From the beginning, belief is a scammer for humans. It cannot be said to be equivalent or fair."

"Isn't it ridiculous to have peace by just verbal praise, I want to live a hundred years by just giving some money, and just giving a little bit of piousness to get the blessings of going to heaven?"

"No matter whether the object of faith comes from heaven or abyss, whether the other party promises a paradise or hell, there is no need to even dig into whether those promises are fulfilled, whether they are truth or lies."

He said flatly: "The so-called faith is the shameless greed demand of the weak, a kind of begging and a kind of luck in the face of fear."

Speaking his views so frankly, he asked seriously: "Since I am shameless, why am I ashamed?"

Mathers raised his eyebrows slightly, "So, do you hate faith?"

"No, on the contrary, I, desire faith, is more eager than anyone else! Because I know my own weakness and incompetence, and my own limitations."

Morando told him seriously and seriously: "I want to believe, I want to have a faith full of power. So, whoever gives me strength will believe in whoever I believe. It's that simple."

Mathers seemed to be stunned.

He looked at the collaborator in front of him in a little surprised manner. After a long time, he sighed admirably: "No matter whether your words make sense or not, but over the years, it is really rare to meet someone as open to you."

"Isn't this good?" Morando asked, "or is it too disgusting to be so naked and shameless?"

"No, I think this is more pleasant."

Mathers leaned over with his cane and laughed softly: "A long time ago, the priests who preached would say that long ago, human beings lived in a beautiful kingdom, followed the command of the gods, and lived a carefree life, but could not eat the fruits of the trees. Do you know why?"

"I hope to hear the details."

"Because only those who are guilty who eat apples know shame."

Mathers said, "Shame is a thing that is prepared by those who have original sin and will only look down on those who have true faith."

Morando smiled: "Do you think I am a sinless person, Mr. Mathers?"

"No, it's better to say that you and I are all those who are extremely sinful?" Mathers shook his head: "Where is a pure righteous man who falls into the abyss with bloody hands like you and me?"

"So what's the point of this story?"

"If you want to seek meaning, then it may only explain one truth."

Mathers laughed mockingly:

"From the beginning, the so-called faith is a lie."

boom!

A low loud noise came from afar.

In Morando's hand, the crystal king's chess piece once again cracked, and a faint ink color appeared from it and flowed out from the king's face.

It's like blood.

"The king is about to die."

Mathers raised his hand and spread his palm. Between his five fingers, a blood-red chess piece slowly emerged, wearing a sacred crown, wearing pure white clothes, holding a rose rosary, and his face was exactly like Morando.

"I think it's time for you to appear next."

He slowly stood up, put the chess piece into Morando's hand, bent down, and whispered softly in his ear: "The last 'Bissary' Lord."

"I will."

Morando calmly closed his five fingers and asked again: "Where are you?"

"Hmm?" The middle-aged gentleman who was about to leave stopped and turned around in confusion.

"Aren't you going to show up on the board?"

Mathers laughed, took off the top hat from the hanger, and put it on his white hair: "For chess players, there is no need to put any representative items on the chess board, right?"

Morando didn't speak anymore.

Mathers nodded and turned away.

When he passed by the seat by the window, his steps paused slightly, and he looked down as if he was unintentionally.

On the seat was a haggard man with thick dark circles, wearing an inconspicuous gray suit, frowning and drinking unsweetened black coffee.

He looked up at Mathers, and Mathers looked at him too.

The two calmly withdrew their gaze and continued to go their separate ways.

Just as it was back then

Twenty minutes ago, the sea outside the starry sky was calm and the strange silence enveloped everything.

On the distant London border, the heavily guarded Astronomical Society headquarters, after the 16th floor underground, after undergoing double verification of identity and password, they transferred to a special elevator. After another source quality comparison, the old elevator began to carry passengers down again.

Straight down, then down.

Overhead floor·l8.

The iron fence at the elevator entrance slowly opened, and the middle-aged man in gray maintenance uniform walked out and heard the sound of the opera on the old TV.

There was still a cold pizza on the long table at the door, but there was no one on the chair.

Until the low sound of flushing the toilet came from the compartment, an old security guard with a belly erect walked out of it, shook his legs, and returned to his position.

“Application report?”

He flipped through the documents handed over by the middle-aged man, compared the signature on it, took out a registration book and handed it over it, and finally grabbed the pen and checked it out, opened the drawer, took out a bunch of keys, stood up and said, "Come with me."

The door leading to the warehouse was opened.

There is no smell of dust in the air, and a good ventilation system maintains a constant temperature, without even any moldy smell.

It's just pure, nothing tastes good.

No sound can be heard.
To be continued...