There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

There's only one truth! The mole is Ada Wong!

She brought the person back with her, which makes perfect sense!

But before he could finish speaking, Ada Wong coldly interrupted him.

"The information exchange you mentioned, is it about Kuroshio Island? The escape route I've been searching for is actually provided by this guy!?"

Little Sparrow suddenly realized: "No wonder you're so obsessed with sending people to explore the underground ruins... You also know that this site might lead to the outside world?"

Seeing this, I suddenly realized why Ada Wong had lost her composure.

As the leader of the intelligence agency S·P·A·R·R·O·W, she not only believed a piece of intelligence from an unknown source, but also had many of her subordinates killed by "Stuart" using that intelligence information! Who could tolerate such a humiliation?

The assassin lying on the ground chuckled coldly, offering no defense whatsoever. Every word he had uttered so far had been deliberately sarcastic and biting—this behavior of spewing daggers and spears from his mouth, I would call a modern-day Lu Xun.

But after looking around the room, it suddenly occurred to me, if this suggestion wasn't made by Spyro Jr., and Ada Wong didn't seem to be lying about her professional honor, then who could it be? And who was the mole?

Thinking about it carefully, there's only one faction left in the current scenario...

there is only one truth!

I now suspect I'm the mole!

"Kay...help me up..."

Zach, lying in a pool of blood, made a weak sound, and strange blue veins appeared around his eyes. He slowly went into a kneeling position, and then, with Kai's help, he managed to stand up.

I quickly stepped forward and said, "Don't be impulsive, Zack! This isn't the place for you to shine!"

"Marcus, the monster in the fog is about to move, and Zack is unconscious again. Let's retreat to a safe place first..."

Kay advised.

I'm not listening, I'm not listening, you're chanting scriptures, you idiot!

I quickly dismissed this brilliant idea. Why guess when you already know the truth?

"I'm the sheriff, you'd better tell me the truth!"

The assassin on the ground remained unmoved, even peacefully closing his eyes, only revealing a malicious sneer at the corner of his mouth.

"Not going to speak? Fine, I'm a model police officer, and I naturally have my own code of conduct and integrity. I won't force you, but I have a few questions for you."

Then, speaking gently to the stubborn "Stuart," he said, "The victim is lying here, the suspect is on the ground, the murder weapon is stuck in Zach's back, and many witnesses heard your declaration of murder. Given the consistency of subjective and objective facts, what crime should be charged?"

Stuart responded with a cold laugh.

"Not going to answer? Let's talk about something else. I once encountered a criminal who refused to cooperate with the investigation and was held down in a cesspool for nine hours. His stomach was full of feces, and he's still in the ICU. He won't die until he's completely digested. I don't mean anything by it, I just wanted to mention it."

I gave a simple, honest smile, staring at the startled assassin, and casually asked, "By the way, there are a few hundred people in our camp now, right? Have they all eaten and drunk their fill? Have they gone to the toilet yet? While you're at it, could you help me dig a hole, about two meters square and one person deep? Also, get some rope and chains ready..."

"Stuart" finally couldn't hold on any longer. His consciousness could be transferred, but I don't believe his memories can be easily modified, and I don't mind that his double helix structure is composed entirely of 114514.

"The Wilmas Foundation invited us to join... but you're absolutely not going to get out... give up your delusions..."

The mole...

It was Mr. Rhodes?!

Seeing the once fearless assassin back down, Sparrow whispered to Ada Wong beside him, "Is this a model police officer? All his rules of conduct reek of a village bully... How did someone like this get into the police force?"

"Mr. Sparrow, do you have any questions? By the way, did you have a bowel movement today?"

Little Sparrow jumped, probably thinking I was going to make him perform an act of urinating and defecating in public, and quickly explained, "Sheriff Marcus, we can talk about the interrogation later. Can you give me a chance to explain? I'm confident I can handle them!"

He hurriedly pulled out a hastily developed weapon from his pocket, which looked like a short-barreled shotgun wrapped in duct tape and fitted with two fluorescent tubes.

"Ray gun number 113!"

Chapter 648 There are taboos in this line of work

"Element 113 is more radioactive than plutonium and is more suitable for use in weapons manufacturing."

After his introduction, even the broken gun seemed to radiate a dangerous light.

"I've completed the initial production using recycled accelerator coils. Upon collision with high-energy particles, it will unleash a deadly ray that will penetrate any enemy in its path, causing irreparable damage!"

Sparrow Jr. excitedly introduced.

Artificially created new elements like these are generally considered extremely unstable, but through numerous experiments, one or two have been found to be surprisingly stable, and with luck, these stability can persist for a very long time. The fact that element 113 was created and preserved is also largely thanks to the crashed toroidal particle accelerator…

"Why didn't we bring out this good stuff sooner? What are we waiting for?"

I snatched the ray gun without hesitation. Seeing that it had no sights, I held it with my right hand and rested it on my left arm, aiming at the strange shadow swaying in the black mist by feel.

"Hey! Wait a minute, I've already explained..."

call out!

As the trigger was pulled, I felt the purple glow of the gun's fluorescent tube brighten with the change in sound, then dimmed again, and then transformed into a dark and grotesque color—a mixed color that was neither describable nor distinguishable.

The moment the mixed-color light flew out of the gun and collided with the air, it produced an extremely obvious Tyndall effect. Yet, at certain non-linear locations in space, a swirling, mixed-color cylinder composed of unrecognizable shapes or clouds appeared.

The chaotic black mist suddenly tore in two, churning up like waves being scalded and fleeing swiftly, revealing the vast ocean behind the sea fog that hugged the ground—a monster like a giant shark was painfully churning the waves, like a Cyclops angrily chasing Odysseus, stirring up towering waves that rumbled toward the shore!

A mournful cry, like the hoarse wail of a whale, rang out!

"Never mind... Marcus, seize the opportunity! Be extremely careful!"

Sparrow didn't complain any further and turned to run away.

It seems that the crises along the way have trained him to be like Pavlov's Cerberus, adept at repeatedly leaping between life and death.

The dragon-shaped monster in the black mist tumbled and hid in the fog, just in time to dodge the attack, and then moved in two directions along with the clouds.

But this very action exposed their core location. I pointed at the sky and fired again without hesitation; a strange beam of light, capable of blinding anyone, stretched across the heavens!

A purple light suddenly flashed through the thunderclouds in the sky. The power of lightning rushed straight towards the ground, but even the most violent attack in nature crumbled at the touch of Ray Gun No. 113, and the scattered fragments of electricity vanished into the air.

The dark clouds trembled!

Hail and cold rain suddenly fell from the sky, crashing down on the location of Kuroshio Island, leaving countless craters of varying depths and destroying all the tents in the camp. A powerful counterattack was imminent.

Their crimson vertical pupils were filled with hatred, and they roared terrifyingly. According to the deceased pilot's dream, these two monsters could lurk in thunderclouds and fly at speeds of several Mach to pursue the most advanced human fighter jets, so direct fire had no effect.

Two more shots missed, leaving only a scorching, foul-smelling atmosphere.

Thunderclouds had already flown high into the sky, hovering ominously overhead, with lightning flashing and crisscrossing between them, illuminating this unsettling sky.

I don't know if it's just my imagination, but I seem to see other patterns in this sky where golden snakes dance wildly, above this chaotic interplay of light and shadow.

The sky seemed filled with swirling, luminous spheres, countless indescribable shapes, whether alive or not, all mixed together in a repulsive state of disorder, slowly pressing down from the vast expanse of the heavens, like…

Something in the sky seems to have come alive!

I stopped firing and gazed intently at the strange phenomenon in the sky. Countless people in the camp were also watching the celestial spectacle, some even forgetting to take cover.

But the reason I didn't fire was because the barrel had developed some problems.

The two fluorescent tubes on the hastily made short-barreled shotgun had turned from pale purple to bright orange, accompanied by extremely high temperatures that traveled along the barrel to the hand, clearly indicating that it was in a very unstable state due to continuous firing.

I boldly speculate that these two fluorescent tubes contain element 113, preserved in an inert material. Repeated excitation like this could potentially destroy the buffer material, and if it were to detonate completely, it would likely be another nuclear explosion in this space…

The twin monsters in the sky dared not approach, so they attacked the camp from high above with thunderstorms and hail, causing considerable casualties.

They were worried about the ray gun attack, but I was also worried about things getting worse, so I stared at the sky with a burning rage—when a patch of snow suddenly spoke Russian, when a forest suddenly spoke Vietnamese, I suddenly understood what war-induced PTSD meant.

"Marcus... force them to the ground..."

Kay helped Zach to my side and said through gritted teeth.

"No, I've heard of being forced into prostitution and being forced to leave the profession. But what does 'being forced to fall into prostitution' even mean?" I was dumbfounded.

Zack said urgently, "I broke their legs, so they live in the clouds to move around... Only if the heavens force them to land... will they have a chance to hit me..."

Okay, I get it! It's just going to heaven...

Groudon, use Precipice Blade on this bastard!

If I could fly, I wouldn't need to waste time talking here!

"Marcus, I can try one more time...maybe I can get back to where I was before!"

Zach stood there alone, barely managing to stay upright. "Undo the hypnosis on me first, then I'll go shoot them down!"

Upon hearing this, my expression instantly fell, and I said irritably, "Impossible! Putting aside the fact that I was using talk therapy, which has nothing to do with hypnosis; just the fact that I did that, you'd probably turn on us on the spot!"

"I?"

Kay added hesitantly, "Brother Zack, you did attack me before. Although I know it was beyond your control, the risk was indeed very high..."

Zack, who was originally full of eagerness, froze on the spot as if he had been doused with ice water when he heard this, pointing to his own nose and asking.

"I... I attacked you?! I thought it was only Marcus... What's going on..."

Wait! Let's pause here!

Explain to me what you mean by "thinking it was only Marcus"!

You feel no guilt or pressure when you hit me, right?

I'll arrest you on the spot and sentence you to three and a half weeks of execution, a total of 24.5 days, believe it or not!

"But I can't remember anything... It's like something's interfering with my mind..."

Zach pounded his head, recalling the painful memories.

"Everything seems familiar, yet I can't quite place it..."

Kay quickly put his arm around his shoulder and comforted him, "Zack! Your wound is still bleeding! There's something wrong here! This place seems to be affecting my brain too; I often see strange images!"

Making a fuss over nothing is wrong.

I've encountered far more hallucinations than they have. They play in my mind constantly, 24/7, and every now and then I mistakenly believe I'm a mushroom, a rice cooker, a motorcycle, Pikachu, or something like that.

Just recently, I suddenly thought I was a corpse retriever from the Yellow River, and I even broke a taboo by forgetting that you can't retrieve a body that's wearing overalls and has been drowning—especially the kind that's been dead for two and a half years, which is considered the most eerie. When you pull it out at midnight, it'll start singing and dancing, which is terrifying...

"Die... all of you die... Zack..."

A curse, sounding like that of a demon from hell, echoed from the ground.

Zack walked along in a daze, and upon hearing the voice, he suddenly looked at him with a strange expression. "Do we...know each other?"

...Uh, is this the kind of conversation a criminal suspect and a victim should have?

"Hehe... You're still using this trick, aren't you..."