Cthulhu America, I can see the kill line.

The young man from the East leaned back in his chair expressionlessly, his gaze as sharp as an icicle, fixed on the two "police officers" in front of him.

The roles of police and civilians seem to have been reversed at this moment.

Kong Jiu's sitting posture appears casual, but in reality, all his muscles are slightly tense, ready to deal with any unexpected situation at any time.

If he were an ordinary policeman, he might skillfully offer cigarettes, smile obsequiously, or even subtly bribe him.

After all, if what happened last night is really investigated, pretending to cooperate is the best course of action.

However, the two people in front of me are different.

Their uniforms were crisp and their police numbers were clearly displayed; even the style of the guns they carried on their waists was the same as that of the local police station.

But Kong Jiu sensed something unusual about them: the stiffness in the neck of the black policewoman when she lowered her head, the overly natural trembling of the fingertips when the white policeman took a cigarette, and the almost imperceptible tiny bulge on their body cameras.

Hidden camera.

"Where are these two agents from? The FBI or ICE?"

Kong Jiu's voice was not loud, but it carried a penetrating power that was almost mocking.

He slowly twisted his neck, his joints making a slight "click," his face full of impatience: "What's the matter? Let's speak frankly."

The Black policewoman was visibly startled, instinctively looking down at the body camera on her chest, a hint of barely concealed embarrassment flashing across her face.

Her previously steady breathing became slightly disordered, and her fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of the notebook.

The mission was originally intended to conduct intelligence gathering without alerting the target.

Now that the police officer's identity has been exposed and he's been asked about his home, his efforts have undoubtedly failed completely.

She is not reconciled.

The uniforms are real, the badge numbers are real, and they are indeed special agents with legitimate police status.

Coupled with his partner's incredibly lifelike performance of accepting bribes, almost flawless, yet...

But this man in front of me could spot even the most insidious design of a pinhole camera at a glance.

His counter-surveillance skills are simply astonishing.

The secretary of Campbell asked who this person was who had come to spy on him.

The miniature earpiece carried Campbell's low and dejected order to retreat. The two "police officers" exchanged a glance, and the black female officer hurriedly put away her notebook.

She forced a professional smile, but her voice was somewhat hoarse: "I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Alex."

The white male police officer silently and obediently placed the bribe he had just "accepted" back on the table, his movements even carrying a hint of deliberate respect.

The two rose almost simultaneously and retreated towards the door. Their steps remained steady and disciplined, but a subtle stiffness was visible in their shoulders and backs.

"You're leaving already?"

A hint of surprise flashed through Kong Jiu's mind.

He had prepared himself for maneuvering or even a standoff, but he did not expect the other side to withdraw so decisively.

He stood up quickly, his face instantly switching to that cheeky grin, and his voice rose a few decibels: "Not going to sit a little longer? Don't you suspect my whereabouts last night?"

He deliberately dragged out his words, but his gaze swept over the two figures with the sharpness of a hawk.

The Black policewoman paused almost imperceptibly, without turning around. The white policeman quickened his pace, his right hand instinctively reaching for his service pistol at his waist.

Kong Jiu's mind raced. He had originally planned to have a frank and open conversation with the other party, but this sudden retreat made him suspicious.

Did I make a wrong judgment?

No, impossible. Hidden cameras, overly standard police equipment, and that well-concealed yet still present "organizational air" about them...

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck me.

Before leaving Xinxiang, those groups that had tried so hard to recruit him...

When he left Xinxiang, some organizations, attracted by the "broadening of his horizons" he gained from his contact with Squich, offered him substantial benefits.

Could it be that they sent them?

Using his police identity as cover would facilitate the operation and also allow me to test his reaction...

Watching the two of them walk down the stairs in a slightly hurried manner, Kong Jiu's lips curled into a playful smile.

He took two steps forward, leaned against the doorframe, and raised his voice towards the stairs: "Go back and tell your superiors that if there's anything serious, just make a phone call. Don't pretend to be a cop and harass me. And don't even let the real police come!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of hurried footsteps came from downstairs, much faster than before, and even carrying a hint of embarrassment.

You guessed right.

Kong Jiu was secretly pleased, feeling a weight lifted from his heart.

The two agents who came to gather intelligence under the guise of last night's events arrived suddenly and left in a hurry.

After this incident, the real police will most likely not bother with it again. After all, if even their "colleagues" have been thwarted, ordinary patrols will not go looking for trouble.

He slowly closed the door, the "click" of the latch closing sounding particularly clear in the quiet apartment.

He turned around and his eyes met Mina's.

She had already changed her clothes and was leaning against the bedroom door, clutching the black umbrella.

"Aren't you a police officer investigating a case?" she asked, her voice trembling with barely perceptible tension.

"It's probably those ICE guys from Xinxiang."

Kong Jiu walked to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain.

Downstairs, the two "police officers" were jogging towards a slightly worn police car.

But before getting into the car, the Black policewoman turned to a black sedan next to her, leaned over, and whispered something into the car window.

The sedan had an understated design, but its smooth lines and special window film gave it a cold, hard feel, befitting an official vehicle.

After the policewoman finished speaking, she quickly returned to the police car, and the two drove away. The black sedan drove off in the opposite direction and soon disappeared around the corner.

All the details confirmed his guess.

He lowered the curtains and turned to look at Mina.

The fragmented information about bloodlines that the demon hunter nun had mentioned last night involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

At that moment, these rumors about bloodlines suddenly came together in my mind.

Plane crashes, blood feuds, clandestine rituals, and the shadowy networks of power...

Mina once casually mentioned that some of the most powerful Supreme Court justices in the United States were of bloodline. This group of demi-humans who controlled the economic lifeline of Amerigo were not as bloodthirsty and aristocratic as legend had it, but rather more like the financial groups that manipulated the United States behind the scenes in the world he knew from his previous life.

Jews?

Precise, understated, and ubiquitous.

So why would such a large group, powerful enough to shake a nation, want to destroy the Iron Curtain?

Why hold those bloody rituals? What are they praying for?

"Mina,"

Kong Jiu suddenly spoke, his voice a few decibels lower than usual, "You consider yourself my girlfriend, right?"

Mina froze, then frowned, a flash of annoyance in her crimson eyes: "What do you mean, 'think'?"

She raised her black umbrella and tapped it lightly on Kong Jiu's forearm, making a dull thud: "I am who I am. You may not admit it, but I am still the same. Anyway, the child in my belly is yours."

Kong Jiu neither dodged nor refuted.

He simply looked at her quietly, his gaze filled with deep contemplation.

Old Eller's blood brewery is based on the relief of abandoned infants, and is not only not cruel, but can even be called "relief".

The fact that bloodlines have infiltrated the upper echelons of the judicial system further reveals the intricate symbiotic relationship between this ethnic group and the social structure.

They are not monsters, but another form of power player.

"Mina,"

He spoke again, his tone serious: "The human world is about to be in turmoil. Perhaps it would be a good choice for you to leave humanity now and return to Red Rain Fortress to take refuge for a while."

Kong Jiu looked into Mina's bloodshot eyes and said earnestly.

But just as he finished speaking, the phone in his pocket rang.

He frowned as he looked at the unfamiliar number.

I was just joking about making a phone call, but it's not going to turn into a real phone harassment, is it?