The world of beauty drama begins with the surrender of Jason

Chapter 382: Echoes of the Times

The long coastal mountains, with their peaks and ridges, overlook the city of San Francisco from afar, and as far as the eye can see, the vast Pacific Ocean is in sight.

This place far away from the city center is very quiet and the peaceful atmosphere is refreshing. It is an ideal location for wealthy businessmen to buy property and relax.

Under the shade of dense trees, the mountain villas are scattered in an orderly manner. They are unique and have different styles, forming a colorful architectural picture, harmoniously integrated into the green and vibrant nature.

The design inspiration of these villas comes from all over the world, and they have both classical European charm and modern simple style.

This side uses classical marble Roman columns and arch designs with smooth lines, highlighting the weight of history; the other side uses modern metal frames and fiberglass to create a light and stylish architectural form, reflecting the essence of avant-garde aesthetics.

Among the many buildings, there are naturally some oriental styles.

The flat ground made of rammed blue-gray soil appears plain and simple, without the decorative sculptures and fountains commonly seen in wealthy homes.

Several rows of vermilion wooden racks were filled with gleaming weapons, from the swords, spears, and halberds of the Far Eastern civilization to the cross swords of Western countries, Swiss axes and guns, and even the niche scimitars and snake-shaped daggers. It was like a cold weapon museum.

A black-capped chickadee with a tuft of black feathers on its head stood on a thin branch, its mung bean-like eyes blinking as it stared blankly at the courtyard below. With its limited brain capacity, it couldn't figure out:
It was clearly a flat ground with no one on it, so why was there a faint crackling sound coming from it?
And in a place that is beyond the reach of the naked eye, a fierce confrontation suddenly broke out...

The three-foot-long frost blade danced like a phoenix, and the sword energy condensed into several cold and sharp lights, like a meteor in a winter night, cutting through the calm air. Wherever the sword tip pointed, cracks appeared on the solid ground in an instant.

Faced with such an attack, the figure opposite simply turned his wrist lightly, and a brilliant golden light flashed across, and he took in all the sword energy. Then he shook his hand back, and a dragon-patterned Guandao made of golden colored glaze came down on his head!

In an instant, lasers and electric fires were everywhere, and swords roared and rang. If it weren't for a layer of hazy transparent clouds covering the surroundings and absorbing the light and shadows, the deafening sound would have aroused the curiosity of nearby neighbors.

"Zheng——!"

The sword moved lightly, retreating again and again, trying its best to draw a three-ring moon shape, but it was still torn apart by the brilliance like a raging torrent, and flew out of the hand diagonally, turning back into its original silver-white sword ball.

"Alas, every profession has its own expertise. I'd better stick to the promising career of turret mage..." Zhu Mingyao sighed helplessly as he glanced at the sharp blade on his neck.

The crescent blade turned into a firefly and disappeared. His sigh only caused a hearty smile, "Don't be discouraged. You have held on for two minutes longer than last time. Your skills have improved significantly."

"Forget it, it's enough as long as I'm good enough in physical skills. No matter how much I practice, I can't beat you, a martial arts fanatic." He spread his hands resignedly at the muscular young man with strong arms and thin waist, and naturally changed the subject.

"I've been staying here for two or three days, and Master Zhou hasn't come back yet. I wanted to take the opportunity to visit him, but it seems I'll have to wait until next time."

Qi Yue made a move without even turning his head, and two cans on the wooden table under the porch in the distance flew towards him.

"It is said that it is a bit tricky. The official trouble this time seems to be very serious. In addition to our side, other forces and even the Lone Ranger with enough weight have received invitations to the meeting. Unfortunately, they are bound by a high-level oath, so the specific situation is not yet known."

The splashing fine foam quickly dissolved in the air, and the fresh aroma of the mixture of fine hops and malt drifted away.

Qi Yue drank it all in one gulp, smacking the refreshing and slightly bitter taste in his mouth: "Before my master was invited to go, he told me to seize the time to hone my skills and try to stay in the best condition. Perhaps there is a possibility of large-scale operations."

"The scandal of raising high-level vampires has not been cleared up yet. How can those bureaucrats have the nerve to bring it up?" Zhu Mingyao took the drink shared by his friend and opened the pull ring with a sneer.

“Fight without breaking…” The aluminum alloy can suddenly spread out into thin threads like hair between the five fingers, and suddenly condensed into a round ball, showing the extraordinary martial arts of turning iron into mud.

"Everyone is just grabbing the handle and taking the opportunity to restrain and crack down on them. Can they call on their friends to swear an oath of blood, carry the apricot-yellow banner of justice, attack the White House, and seize the Oval Office?"

Qi Yue shook his head and made some jokes that were very consistent with the cultural background.

Human society has developed to the point where it has become a complex and fragile behemoth. A single move can affect the entire body. Even those who have become extraordinary and powerful have to follow its operating rules to a certain extent, otherwise they will inevitably harm others and themselves.

"I see that your strength has improved rapidly recently, and your body and mind are a little out of sync. You should rest for a while."

"That's what I thought. I'll go into seclusion and recuperate when I go back this time." Zhu Mingyao expressed his gratitude appropriately for his kindness.

He was talking nonsense, but his eyes were looking at the clear and cloudless sky in the northwest. In his heart, he was thinking about the fragments of words his girlfriend had heard during the New York riots: coal mining town, underground fire, the prototype of purgatory. Putting these terms together, it was very, very unlucky...

……

……

"...Centria, the prototype of Purgatory, God bless..."

At the same time, some people were feeling similar worries as that young man.

The black Ford sedan quietly rolled over the loose soil of the highway outside Los Angeles and stopped in front of a circle of neatly arranged pointed wooden fences.

The snow-white fence symbolizes the boundary between the earthly world and the pure land, and behind it is naturally a sacred residence blessed by God.

For the shaping of doors, windows and wall lines, neat terracotta rectangular stone bricks were carefully polished and transformed into slender fan shapes and cylinders, which intimately wrapped the stained glass windows, appearing both solemn and warm.

The towering Byzantine-style golden domes and crosses sparkle with sacred and magnificent light in the sunset. It is the home of believers' souls and a spiritual sanctuary for countless people.

The church was exquisitely built and cleaned neatly. If one had to find a flaw, it would be that... it was a bit small, like a temple built in a snail shell.

- After all, although the giant red bear had been gone for more than ten years, it still cast a long shadow behind it, and the status of the Orthodox Church in the Federation was also somewhat embarrassing, so all the cathedrals had to be placed in remote suburbs.

But to the owner of this place, it was just a trivial matter. After experiencing the ups and downs in the first half of his life, he was quite satisfied with his current life.

"Bishop Nicholas, you are finally back." The deacon in white pushed open the heavy wooden door with checkered patterns with great effort. "The believers who came to pray have left. Do you need dinner?"

"Bread and water, thank you."

A solemn black robe floated across the floor tiles and stepped into the private room.

The silk hat was taken off, and the dressing mirror reflected the face of a middle-aged man with thin lips and a high nose. He stood silently, thinking about the task assigned to him at the official meeting just now.

After a while, he laughed at himself. What else was there to think about? Since the source of his faith had disappeared, he could only crawl at the feet of the Lord for the rest of his life and clear away all the evil spirits for Him until his death...

"Your appearance has changed a lot, but I think you look more scholarly when you wear glasses." Just as he was reminiscing about the past, a voice suddenly sounded.

He turned around suddenly, his curly brown hair fluttering without wind, and two horizontal and one vertical Byzantine crosses emitting holy light. A divine spell was about to fly out of his hand, but it was stopped abruptly!
"You...you...Ivan?" After seeing the appearance of the person coming, the clergyman who used to preach eloquently was now breathing heavily and using all his strength to utter the other person's name with difficulty.

Behind the tall bookshelf, a sturdy man with a rough appearance walked out slowly, flipping through a hardcover New Testament. The corners of his resolute mouth curled up in a mocking smile.

"After lurking for many years, have you completed the mission assigned to you by the motherland? Have you obtained the [Stargate Project]?

Bishop Nicholas, or... Moscow University mystic expert, Union Security Committee agent, Professor Alexei - Comrade! "

As if struck by a thunderbolt that tore through the sky, the gold-painted black robe rippled into layers of waves.

"Don't call me...that word!" The bishop suppressed his voice, his white teeth sticking out from his lips, his eyes flashing with dangerous light, like a lone wolf forced to the edge of a cliff.

However, anyone who pays close attention can hear the hidden weakness in his trembling voice.

"The alliance is dead and disintegrated. It no longer exists! Any action group or special plan are gone!" He growled angrily, his whole body wrapped in a wave of anxious madness.

"But we are still here." The man called Ivan glanced at the scripture in his hand, a hint of hidden disgust flashed across his face, and he casually closed his palms, and the calfskin and paper on the cover silently twisted into a ball of waste.

"The mission has been delayed for more than ten years. It's time to complete it!"

(End of this chapter)