Cosma Empire

“I don’t think so.” Gothor walked up and down in the room. He blinked and wondered why the eyelids had been jumping. He has been thinking about a problem, Kod, Ken, where are they going? He has already launched all his power to find them where they can be found, but they are just like missing, disappearing silently.

He followed Orlando’s arrangements and found three uncomfortable guys from the bottom of the gang, promising to give them Captain once they came out and give them a sum of money. He also followed the requirements of Orlando to put the three people into a non-adult shape, and there has been no bad news until now. He and Orlando are a group. If he wants bad luck, Orlando can’t run away. Without his cooperation, Gothor can’t be fooled by three plausible people.

But the problem is that he always feels that something is not quite right, but with his brain can not think of so many things, can only become more and more annoying.

He wanted to ask Wood, but he thought that Orlando had said something to him privately and denied the idea. Wood has been “killed out”, but he has already been eliminated since he could not solve this problem very well. The people behind him can’t help a person who can’t do even a small thing. What the big men need is a good tool, not a tool to trouble themselves.

Gothor has been able to go through the steps of today for so many years, in addition to his own efforts, as well as the appreciation of the above boss.

At that time he was just the lowest level of the gang, and several equally young teenagers parked outside the theater for the big guys, watching cars and washing the horses.

It was a rainy day, a big man came out of the carriage, and a servant opened a black umbrella for him, covering his face tightly. He only saw the beautiful suit on his partner, the shiny boots at his feet, and the white scarf hanging around his neck.

The big man trampled on a pool of water when the car was under the car, and the turbid sewage left some stains on his delicate high-grade leather boots. Just when others didn’t know what to do, Gothor had a chance to move. He was kneeling at the foot of the big man, braving the rain, lowered his head, and wiped the other’s leather boots with his sleeves. When he looked up, there was only a slightly hoarse voice in his ear asking him – what is your name.

He pressed his ecstasy in his heart and revealed a smile that he thought was the most perfect. He returned to him – Gothor, my name is Gothor!

The big man walked directly into the theater in his sly expression, as if it was just a boring time in his life that was not worth the trouble of leaving in his mind. In the face of the strange eyes of the companions, Gothor just walked back from the heavy rain back to the eaves at the entrance of the theater, waiting silently for his next opportunity.

Until the ninth day, a guy in a windbreaker with a hat found him and asked him a question.

“Do you dare to kill?”

Gothor slammed his head hard. “Dare, lick here with a knife, and die!” He reached out and put a finger on his chest. The man gave him a note with two names and one Address and time.

Only thirteen-year-old Gothor stole the home and only one another. The kitchen knife that can be used to cut vegetables and is very worn, one person rubbed the knife next to the well behind the house. The next day he did not rest, went directly to the place on the note, and then quietly waited for two people to change their own destiny.

From that day on, Gothor had a backing and he had his achievements today.

He is not a good brain, but he is definitely the best knife for the big guys. His boss told him that if there were no surprises, he would support Gothor as the director of the Tenel Regional Police after two years of elections, but before that he had to let himself clean the dirty things and pick one. The same heir to the obedient.

He is not good at brainstorming, so most of what he needs to do is obey and follow. After thinking about it, he decided to ask the boss for his opinion.

The inconspicuous car slowly stopped in a lane. When the two patrolmen were just about to come over and tell the driver that they could not stop there, they saw the sign on the car. It was very wise to choose to close their mouth and walk away silently.

Gothor walked through the alley, walked two streets, and walked outside a house not far from the town hall, knocking on the door.

Opening the door is a grayish slightly curly steward, wearing a very nice tuxedo with a bow tie. He looked up and down the Gothor lifting his hat and then slightly frowned his eyebrows and closed the door. He waited for about three minutes, and Steward opened the door again, but the position of the Steward station was slightly behind, giving way to the door.

Gothor took off his hat while entering this inconspicuous house, carefully holding it in his arms and following Steward to the garden behind the house. An old man dressed like a farmer with his eyes was holding scissors and licking his buttocks, carefully laying in front of a flower pot and cutting a branch with scissors in his hand. Whether it was steward or Gothor, there was no opening, and no sound was heard. They stood on the edge of the garden and watched the old man like a farmer busy for an hour before he waited for him to put down his scissors.

“What happened?” The old man took off the dirt-covered gloves and washed his hands in a twin-shaped Goddess-shaped basin. “You know, you shouldn’t come here.”

A little hoarse voice Like the night many years ago, Gothor unknowingly lowered his head, put away his chest, bent down, and showed humility in his tone. “I don’t understand a bit of things, come and ask you.” “”

There is not much smile on the old man’s face. People like him shouldn’t have met Gothor. If it wasn’t for so many years, Gothor helped him cut off many people who shouldn’t have existed. He wouldn’t have today so easily. Such a position. He leaned his head and looked at Gothor. “Tell me out.” As he spoke, he unbuttoned his shoulders and walked toward the wooden door. Gothor quickly let go, followed closely from behind.

He said everything that happened in these few days, one by one, and said nothing. The old man who took off his jumpsuit was changing clothes, his movements were suddenly stopped, and the backhand was a slap in the face of Gothor, and a slamming sound made it visible throughout the house. On the second floor, some small footsteps were uploaded. The old man’s face slightly eased and went to the study room. “Give me in!”