He was thinking about how to subdue the driver, but gradually Jenkins felt that the speed of the car was slowing down, which meant that the destination might be ahead.
"Then wait a little longer. If he has an accomplice, we can solve it together. This is also a small contribution I made to Nolan."
Thinking of this, Jenkins couldn't help being proud of his kindness and sense of responsibility. He slowly returned to the original position, sat down again and resumed the sleeping position just now.
After about half a minute, the carriage really stopped. But out of the corner of the eye, you can see bare fields that have not been sown, and there are not even buildings.
The coachman opened the car door and covered his mouth, glanced at the creatures in the car, saw that everyone and the cat were sleeping soundly, so he didn't disturb them.
After he closed the carriage door again, Jenkins and Chocolate immediately looked out from the gap in the curtains with their heads hunched. I saw the coachman standing by the carriage and looking at the wilderness in the distance. For a while, there were only grass blades blown by the wind/flying by.
But gradually, a shadow with light blue aura appeared on the far horizon. As the figure got closer, the blue aura became stronger and stronger, and finally the tall figure was clearly seen by Jenkins.
"Alien? What race is this?"
The man walking from a distance was unusually tall and strong. Judging by Jenkins' visual inspection, he was at least 8 feet (approximately 2.4384m) tall. He was wearing an obviously small black leather jacket, and the leather was scorched. It was unknown whether it was a new popular style or a mark left by accident.
The skin on the back of his hands and face was a bit dark, and his figure was full of strength, but Jenkins still couldn't figure out what kind of alien it was, after all, there were too many races with humanoid forms.
"Master, I brought something."
The coachman leaned on the ground tremblingly and lay down, making a gesture of prostration.
"I tracked down the man who got the nut, and he sold it to an antique shop. I was going to steal it at night, but the tracker you gave me showed that the nut was taken away by a young apprentice from the antique shop..."
"So you just killed the apprentice and brought the stuff?"
The tall man's voice was extremely dull, as if he was deliberately suppressing his voice. He was not fluent in Common Tongue, and had an accent that couldn't tell the "s" from the "z".
"No, master, I intended to kill him. But he fell asleep as soon as he got into the car. I sprinkled the drug you gave me (note) and brought him directly."
As he spoke, he slightly raised his head and pointed to the carriage behind him. The tall man looked at the window of the carriage covered by curtains, and Jenkins and the cat hurried away from there, listening only with their ears.
In fact, it is not considered eavesdropping. This is a remote alley in Nolan's countryside, and there is no sound except the wind. Moreover, the carriage is an ordinary carriage, without any sound insulation treatment, even if Jenkins does not want to hear it, it is impossible.
"Very good, it's not bad for me to deal with the corpse, you go and drag him out."
"Good master."
After saying this, the driver got up from the ground, and before he had time to pat the dirt on his body, he opened the door of the carriage and got in. He looked at the sleeping man and the cat, and felt that the cat was in the way, so he stretched out his hand and planned to throw it out first.
Just as the hand was stretched out, the writer suddenly kicked it out, and the coachman flew out of the carriage like a shell before he had time to react. He fell into the distant field, rolled a few times, and then remained motionless.
The burly man did not go to rescue him, but frowned and looked at the carriage. I saw white hands first pulling one side of the door frame, and then the young writer bent down and appeared from there.
He jumped out of the carriage directly, then turned around and carried his cat out, taking out the pistol in his left hand.
"You... I seem to have seen your face somewhere before."
The alien didn't take the lead, but stared at Jenkins' face. He might have seen a picture of Jenkins in the newspaper, but he didn't remember what he looked like.
"So this is a trap, whose subordinate are you?"
The burly man asked again, as if he had misunderstood Jenkins' origin. And Jenkins remembered that someone had mentioned that during the Battle of the Undead, the church discovered a large number of heterogeneous species hidden in Nolan, and the one in front of him was probably one of them.
"I found that nut first. If you want it, you have to negotiate terms. We don't have to fight each other. It's meaningless."
He continued talking, but Jenkins didn't say a word.
"why not… "
Boom~
Pull the trigger with your finger, and the bullet/bullet/shoots from the muzzle/shot. The two stood very close, there was no possibility of the shot missing, and the alien species on the opposite side had no ability to dodge or pinch the bullet.
The shot hit his right shoulder, and green blood flowed from the back of his black jacket. But the bleeding lasted only a few seconds before it stopped, and the owner of the shoulder showed no signs of pain.
"Strong body, green blood... the range has shrunk."
Jenkins dropped his pistol while thinking, and a flame burned in his right hand:
"If you want to ask me why I shot, my answer is that you said you were going to kill me just now."
"Weak human, you will regret it."
The black light wrapped around the palm of the burly man, and he flicked Jenkins across the air, and the silk thread made of black light rushed towards Jenkins.
With a bang, the flame in Jenkins' hand spread to the ground to form a wall of fire to block the black light. The owner of the flame jumped out of the fire, clenched his fists and hit the opponent's chest.
But the fist was caught, and the frost immediately extended the palm to spread towards the body of the alien. He froze for a moment, immediately threw Jenkins away, then turned sideways and kicked Jenkins in the abdomen.
Jenkins' waist twisted into an incredible arc. Considering that this matter had to be reported to the church, he did not use those abilities or weapons that would easily arouse suspicion. He fumbled in his pocket, then picked out the heaviest piece of metal and threw it out.
Golden light burst out from the surface of the metal sheet, and the metal deformed in the air, and finally turned into extremely thin wires, binding Jenkins' opponent's hands.
But after hearing a low voice, the man broke free from the shackles of the metal wire with only strength, and turned to look at Jenkins suspiciously:
"Not their people, this is the spell of the Church of the Sages... Are you a scribe?"
"It seems that I still need to practice the rituals of making these spells. Dad is right. The bestower can rely on more than ability."
PS: Jenkins really fell asleep because of eating too much, not because of drug///drugs. Strange, the text is not a sensitive word, the author has something to say is actually...