At one o'clock in the afternoon, Lance returned to his apartment.

While opening the door with the key, he didn't even raise his eyelids and said to the room: "When did you learn to slip through the door and pick the lock?"

"I'm a reporter, do you remember?" The guy in the room stood by the windowsill, looking at the street outside through the blinds, and responded without looking back.

"Remember, but I thought your craft was just a little bit straight, but I didn't expect... Illegal invasion was also a good player." Lance said while closing the door.

"Stop being poor..." said the reporter brother, turning his head, "I saw that the agreed time has passed and you haven't appeared yet. I guess you may have encountered some unexpected situation, so I sneaked into your house to take a look."

"What's good about me?" Lance put the paper bag on the table and took off his sunglasses. "Do you think I'd store anything 'value' in a house like this?"

"What I think...it doesn't matter, what matters is what your 'enemy's' think." The reporter brother continued, "From the perspective of those who attempt to be unfavorable to you, after an ambush or chase you, whether successful or not... you should send someone to your residence to search and leave an ambush by the way."

"So... you picked the lock in specially to see if you could catch a living and ask for some clues?" Lance asked.

The reporter brother did not answer this question because with the emergence of Lance, this kind of thing no longer matters.

He shrugged and changed the subject: "Since you're back now, let's talk about it, where have you been in the past few hours?"

"I was invited by Chief Moleno to have a cup of coffee." Lance replied without hesitation, and before he finished speaking, he quickly walked into the bathroom and brought it to the door.

"You..." The reporter brother wanted to ask Lance if he was arrested, but when the words came to his mouth, he decided to ask a more critical question, "... Are you sure he was not pressed on a wiretap or something?"

"Uh...ah...uh...gu..." Unexpectedly, the next second, a continuous, very nauseating vomiting sound suddenly came from the bathroom.

"Hey hey..." The reporter brother approached the bathroom door a few steps closer, "Are you okay?"

More than ten seconds later, accompanied by the sound of toilet flushing, Lance opened the door and walked out: "It's okay, I drank some slj (a toilet cleaner from their time), and then vomited with the rest of the stomach."

"I said... did you drink coffee or industrial alcohol before?" The reporter brother looked at him and complained.

"What do you know?" Lance replied in a natural tone, "I'm anti-nanobot."

"Through... drinking toilet cleaner?" asked the reporter brother.

"The ingredients of the toilet cleaner of this brand of slj not only have a very great stimulation to the gastric mucosa...uh..." Lance said halfway and couldn't help but retching again, "...it also has a significant erosion effect on nanocreatures that are 'not yet combined and formed'; just drink a few sips of this... within four hours of eating food containing nanorobots... it can cause those substances to detach from the stomach wall and quickly decompose."

"It can also help you suffer from gastric ulcers quickly, right?" the reporter brother complained again.

"Don't care about these details." Lance continued, "Please talk about the question you just asked..." He paused for a moment and said again, "I have thought and checked the 'eavesdropping' on the way back. If she really wants to place monitoring equipment on me without my entire sense of awareness, she can only use nanorobots..."

"You went to drink toilet cleaner just in case?" The reporter brother seemed very keen to complain about this, so he said it again.

"What you said is that the probability of ordinary people is very low, and there is a bit incredible assumption. When you arrive at Carmen, it may be one percent, or one tenth of the situation..." Lance replied, "Considering that she came to me on her own initiative today, she also chose the place to drink coffee... With her authority and ability, it is better to directly let the people in the store cooperate, and let the agent pretend to be a clerk or do something on the way to deliver the coffee... There are countless ways to simply let me drink the nanorobot, so... what reason do I have to be afraid of? "

"What's the reason for 'toilet cleaner is hard to drink'?" Brother reporter was endless.

"Ha!" Lance smiled, "If someone asks you to choose between eating shit and dying, which one do you choose?"

"I chose to stuff the shit on that person's face before I die." The reporter brother replied.

"Well said," Lance continued, "and I... I would rather swallow the feces and commit suicide than 'lost'."

"Ha..." The reporter brother chuckled when he heard this, "ok, you_make_your_point."

Although this journalist brother had a European and American face, what is strange is... He speaks English very badly, but Chinese very well; in this world where bilingual Chinese and English have long been popularized in the world, and any individual can speak these two languages ​​more fluently. This brother who has received higher education and worked as a journalist...he speaks English hardly.

His Chinese proficiency is in the native language level, while his English proficiency is like using an unfamiliar dialect to write sentences on paper. He can understand all of them, but as soon as he opens his speech, he will have problems such as inaccurate pronunciation, grammar errors, accents, etc.

For example, the sentence he said now is a very simple sentence. It sounds strange when he thinks it, and even elementary school students can speak better than him. Even so... this guy still likes to splash out English when chatting with people, and I don’t know how he developed this habit.

"Speaking of it... did you call her Carmen just now?" After a few seconds of pause, the reporter brother said again, "And you seem to know her very well..." He paused for a moment, revealing a meaningful smile, "Brother Judge... Are there any story between you and 'Sir Moleno'?"

"Yes." Unexpectedly, Lance admitted without hesitation. He sat on a sofa, crossed his legs, shook his head and said, "That year... I was seventeen years old too~she was seventeen years old too~"

"Okay... stop." The reporter interrupted before he could say the second sentence, "I just asked casually, don't you have to tell me in detail."

"What's wrong? You asked yourself, I'm going to say you don't listen anymore." Lance continued.

"Because you are a liar, I only dare to believe 50% of every word that pops out of your mouth..." The reporter smiled, "and when you talk about your 'past' and 'private affairs', this ratio has to drop to less than 20%.

"Hahaha..." Lance suddenly let out a sickly laugh, "Do you know... What I admire most is that you are not easy to deceive."

"That's why I'm called the 'Sacrifice'." Brother reporter, or... the "Sacrifice" replied immediately, "If even I was deceived, who else can spread the 'truth'?"

"Hmph... I have read too much of the 'truth', and it will make it more and more difficult for you to trust others." Lance, or... "judge", also continued with a smile.

He was right, at most of the time, "lie" was more acceptable; imagine what a terrible place would it be if there was such a world... all the information circulating there had not been distorted, whitewashed, taken out of context, without any concealment, nor any orientation or entertainment... the media simply showed all the bloody truth objectively and impartially.

Knowing too much will make people fear, and understanding too much will make people desperate.

Those who control public opinion and power and who understand the truth need the public to live in lies.

The public themselves... also need to live in lies.

Of course, this ambiguous relationship is naturally not "absolute". It is just a balance. The "sacrifice" is a person who maintains this balance, and he himself... as the judge said, it is probably the most fearful and desperate one.

"I want to live as freely as you, but unfortunately it's not possible..." A few seconds later, the priest smiled bitterly and continued, "After all... I still have a conscience." As he said that, he walked towards the table and pointed to the paper bag that Lance put on the table when he entered the door. "Is this a video taken by Hull?"

"Yes, I've already taken it to an Internet cafe before I came back, no problem," Lance replied.

"Oh?" The priest began to tease maliciously again, "When you look at this, did you go to the closed single compartment with free tissue?"

"Aren't you talking nonsense? Can I still play this kind of thing in the Internet cafe lobby?" Lance continued.

"Haha... did Chief Moleno make you so restless? You can't wait to see you when you return to the apartment?" The priest continued to spread malice.

"Yes, I was so excited when I thought that Chief Moleno might have already packed the things inside before I arrived at the locker." Lance was obviously a master of trash talk. He immediately replied in a sarcastic tone, "Next time I have the chance, I will bring this possible hard drive with a wiretap machine to you, fix it on your face with tape, and then talk to you about the crime plan for half an hour. After the conversation, I will post a photo of Carmen on the hard drive, and then I unbuttoned my pants and took it out..."

"okok... I was wrong! You're right!" The priest was a little difficult to resist the three-way counterattack of Lance. He quickly admitted his conscience and changed the topic, "I won't talk anymore. Since you have nothing to do, I should withdraw."

After saying that, he picked up the paper bag and walked towards the door.

Today, the priest originally agreed with the judge to get the video: According to the original plan, the judge will first identify the content after the video is retrieved, and check whether there are any tracking equipment implanted on the hard disk. Then, they will meet with the priest, and the priest will take the video to a "safe place" to store it.

In addition to the "cooperative" relationship between the priest and the judge, every person who joins "Fengdu Luoshan" and becomes a "subordinate" of the judge will have a fatal "evidence of crime" left to the judge. For Hull Schneider... it is this video.

"Oh... by the way." When he was about to reach out and open the door, the sacrificer seemed to have thought of something again and turned around and said, "I'll go and check the 'Frederick William Graff' you are going to judge this time... and found something slightly concerning."

"Say." Lance collapsed on the sofa and replied disapprovingly.

"In addition to the protection from the federal government on the surface, secretly... Graf bought himself a 'killer insurance' many years ago." The sacrificer continued, "This insurance means..."

"...meaning, if he encounters something unexpected, a high-value 'revenge reward order' will be immediately distributed to the 'killer agent' around the world. At that time... I will become a fat sheep in the eyes of all the killers in the world." Lance continued this content himself before the sacrificer finished speaking.

"Ha, you know, it turns out." The priest laughed and said again, "Then... look at your fearless attitude, I guess you have a solution to this?"

"No special countermeasure is needed." The judge said this, leaning against the back of the sofa, tilting his head to the side, looking at the sacrificer, "On this planet, there is only one killer who can kill me, but he had already washed his hands a few years ago, so..." He spread his hands and made an expression of disagreement.

"Okay, then we..." After hearing this, the priest didn't care much about him and the judge being not friends, "... See you back."
Chapter completed!