Chapter 1200
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Chapter 1200 Death of 01
Notre Dame Cathedral.
On the devastated land, misty fog soaked through pools of blood, with the air flowing with a thick smell of gore.
Bodies lay motionless in the broken ruins, twisted in grotesque positions, with countless bones broken, barely clinging to life.
In the center of the battlefield that resembled a meteor crater, a figure wearing a black cloak stood silently. The breeze brushed against the wide hood, and on its brim, the numbers “04” swayed with the wind.
Before him remained three agent figures, barely maintaining their stance while looking at Agent 04 with terror in their eyes.
Creak—!
The ancient door let out a muffled sound. Five minutes had passed, and Agent 03 pushed open the door from inside Notre Dame Cathedral.
His gaze swept across the devastated battlefield, contempt appearing in his eyes as he calmly walked to Agent 04’s side and slowly spoke:
“Three still remain… your skills have deteriorated, Hephaestus.”
“I held back,” Agent 04 replied flatly. “These few are quite skilled. If they were too severely injured now… they wouldn’t be useful to us.”
“That’s true.” Agent 03’s gaze swept around. “Where are the other agents? You didn’t kill them, did you?”
“No.”
“Good, there are quite a few promising ones among them. Though their combat abilities aren’t strong, they could be useful at critical moments.”
Agent 03 stepped forward and dragged out more than ten agents from among the half-dead ones, throwing them on the ground like corpses.
Agent 03 lifted the head of one of the agents, and on the blood-stained brim of his hat, the numbers “22” were clearly engraved.
“This one has been to the King’s Treasury. He probably knows some key clues he hasn’t revealed.”
Agent 03 raised his hand and lightly tapped his forehead. A beam of light flowed into the body, and Agent 22, in a semi-conscious state, whimpered twice before being casually tossed to the ground.
Agent 03 repeated this process, tapping each of the unconscious agents on the head, finally walking up to the three agents who were still barely standing.
“Agent 09, Agent 17, Agent 38… Thor, Vishnu… Ra? The Egyptian Sun City has fallen, yet an agent escaped?” Agent 03 stared at Agent 38 in surprise, then after a moment, coldly smiled. “An agent of a supreme god without backing, a perfect candidate.”
The three agents stared intently at Agents 03 and 04 before them. Agent 09’s eyes were filled with confusion:
“Why… why are there two gods mixed in among the agent gathering? How is this possible…”
Agent 03 walked up to him and spoke with interest:
“I’m very curious, what did that prophet, Agent 33, tell you that made you all so unified in confronting us two?”
Under the divine pressure from Agent 03, Agent 17 remained silent for a moment before explaining what had happened.
“He indeed foresaw our identities… and used the information about the two divine agents to trick these agents into confronting us, while he slipped away first.
This prophet is truly extraordinary.”
Agent 04 said gravely.
“His target must also be the King’s Treasury. He’s probably already on his way there…” Agent 03 narrowed his eyes. This mysterious agent of prophecy and magic had actually given him a sense of urgency.
His gaze swept over the three agents before him, and he spoke flatly,
“Now, you have two choices: either die, or… help us with something.”
…
As Agents 03 and 04 disappeared into the mist with more than ten agents, the ruined city once again fell into deathly silence.
Inside Notre Dame Cathedral.
Agent 01, who had witnessed the entire process from the second floor, frowned slightly.
“Two Olympian gods…”
He stood still like a statue for a long time, then stepped down the stairs to see Agent 02 slumped in the center of the hall, and snorted coldly.
A voice cold as a machine came from under the hood: “Agent 02, you should leave now.”
“But, but…”
Agent 02 stretched out his hand, pointing at the devastated ruins outside the cathedral, his eyes filled with terror and fear.
He had also obtained information about the two divine agents from Lin Qiye. If Agent 01 hadn’t suddenly changed to a reverse order of departure, he would probably be among those lying outside now.
“They’ve already left. You can go now.” Agent 01’s voice showed no emotional fluctuation.
Agent 02 looked at the deathly mist outside, staggered to his feet, hesitated for a moment, tightened his hood, and rushed straight into the mist, leaving this place.
In the empty Notre Dame Cathedral, only Agent 01 remained, pacing in the ancient hall.
He slowly walked to a secluded room and pulled out a list from a compartment, carefully examining it.
“Agent 09, Jack Claude, Norse Asgard Thunder God Thor’s agent, ranked sixth in the ‘Ten Presences’.”
“Agent 17, Prakash, one of the three supreme gods of the Indian Temple of Heaven, Vishnu’s agent, ranked fourth in the ‘Ten Presences’.”
“Agent 38, Bifitu, Egyptian Sun City supreme god ‘Ra’s agent, ranked second in the ‘Ten Presences’…”
“These Olympians, for the sake of obtaining the King’s Treasury, they’ve really gone to great lengths.”
Agent 01 snorted coldly.
He took the list and walked to a wall lined with brass tubes, raising his hand to unscrew the caps.
The moment the caps were opened, a faint humming sound came from inside the tubes, echoing in the room. Listening carefully, one could hear the conversations between two people.
This was not some artifact imbued with divine power. These brass tubes were simply modified simple metal phonographs, each brass tube corresponding to a trading room on the second floor.
Because they had no spiritual or divine power fluctuations, being purely physical products, even gods hadn’t noticed their existence. Everyone assumed they were special pipes that had always been part of this ancient building.
Agent 01 sat quietly by the tubes, listening carefully to the trading recordings from each room, one after another.
After listening to all the trading information, he took a deep breath and stood up from his seat.
“Brown Myers… King’s Treasury… Gilgamesh…” he paced alone in the small room, lowering his head in thought. “Perhaps I can use this opportunity to also muddy the waters of Asgard…”
He stopped at the narrow stained glass window, his peripheral vision catching three corpses that had been in the corner of the room for who knows how long.
These three corpses were identical in build and appearance. Except for the central one being the original body, the other two were withered duplicates.
“Agent 01, Ram Bader, Indian Temple of Heaven Mahoraga’s agent, ranked seventh in the ‘Ten Presences’.” Agent 01 looked down at the list in his hand and spoke softly to the three identical corpses in the corner,
“Thanks to you, I was able to collect so much information at once… the plan can be further refined.”
He pulled at his own hat brim marked with “01” and slowly removed it. The dim light filtered through the glass-like window, illuminating the ordinary face of a young woman beneath the brim.
Her lips curled into a faint smile.
The agent of the God of Trickery,
Si Xiaonan.
