Vol 2 Chapter 572: lie

Chapter 572 Lying
Thales pushed the wheelchair subconsciously, and the surrounding environment was blurred in the dark. Only the figure of the old man in front of him was as clear as it was, which made people uneasy.
Fuck.
This is the first word the boy thought of.
He stared solemnly at Morat in the wheelchair, accidentally touching the black veined vines, which caused the latter to contract.
Damn it.
Even if you know the truth of "reading your mind", even after six years of experience, even if you already think that you are quite prepared ...
The black prophet is still the black prophet.
Even if there is no clue or evidence, you can still follow the smell of deception and lies and smell the truth.
How did his father, his grandfather, the rulers on the Supreme Throne face this old monster?
How can they rest assured that such a viper, a dark character with insidious writing from beginning to end, holds a key position in his imperial meeting and holds the power of intelligence?
Thales slammed the wheelchair.
But more importantly ...
At that moment, everything in the Sabertooth Camp and the Bone Prison, whether it was Quickrope, Sackel or Barney Little, passed over Tyers' eyes.
[You have been tortured and you have escaped from birth to death ... not to change the shackles ...]
those people……
The debt they bear, the suffering they have suffered, the pain they experienced ...
Tells tightened the muscles in his arm.
"Your Highness?"
Morat still didn't look back, only leaving Thiers a hollow and thin silhouette of the back of his head.
Contrast with the endless haze he brought.
Tells raised his head gently.
"I do not know what you're talking about."
"What to commit?"
Do not.
At that moment, the boy said silently, no way.
No matter how intimidating the Black Prophet is, he never wants to break through from him.
He must keep this line.
Regardless of cost geometry.
Morat sneered:
"I believe that Yodell must have told you not to stand in front of me ..."
"Liar?" Tells violently interrupted the black prophet.
Morat looked sideways.
"You're right," Thales no longer thought much about the decision:
"I did lie."
"At this moment, right in front of you."
The prince's expression was inadequate, and the next sentence was even colder:
"so what?"
The Black Prophet was in shape.
The corridor was deserted and dim, and only Tyers' own footsteps echoed back and forth without regard, covering the deafening noise of the demon vine.
"I lied."
With a will that he didn't care about clenching his teeth, Taylors said coldly:
"Because I don't want to tell you the truth, and I don't want to embarrass each other."
"And your mind-reading ability-I don't know how much is true-will tear this layer of tacit understanding every time, leaving no room to force us into the corner of the wall together?"
Morat slowly turned his head and looked at Tyers with a rare look.
But Thales had not finished speaking. He looked back at the Black Prophet and tried his best to forget the fear of taking root at the first meeting:
"why."
"To prove that you can do this? To show your power? To get the chips you want? To hold me in control of me?"
Tells evoked the crime of the prison river, struggling to stabilize his heartbeat and breathe, blocking possible emotions.
He imagined that at the moment, he became hard-hearted and invulnerable.
There was a moment of silence in the corridor.
"Because this is my job, boy."
Morat spoke slowly, his voice was hoarse and dry, and his mood was indistinct:
"Put in peace, erase threats."
Tails stepped in.
The wheelchair stopped abruptly, causing Morat to shake slightly.
The footsteps were no longer there, the darkness remained, and only the demon flesh in the wheelchair was shrinking and expanding, creeping and curling, and the strange rustling sound added another trace of silence to the atmosphere.
"Then this is my choice, Lord Lord."
A few seconds later, Duke Xinghu's voice without emotion sounded:
"I lied out of my interest and consideration."
"so what?"
In an invisible angle, the black prophet squinted slightly.
"And you use the wrong name, Morat," the second prince stared at the darkness in front of him: "There are no 'children' here."
"Only Thales Can Star."
Morat was silent for a moment, then snorted.
"your choice?"
"Even if your choice could endanger the kingdom?"
"Even if your willfulness may go against your father ..."
boom!
Tyres slapped Morat's wheelchair, and the demon vines slammed on it, and the black prophet's words were sealed in a loud noise.
"Then let him come to me."
The black prophet's eyes narrowed.
The next second, Tyers exerted his strength and slowly turned the wheelchair around, so that the old man with the wind and candles could face him.
At the same time, he also forced himself to face each other with this well-known secret chief.
"Go, tell him."
Taylors's voice was very soft, but he had no emotion, and it was chilling.
"Tell him that I lurked outside the palace with an outstanding guard who is well-known and imprisoned," he said suddenly.
"So that I can launch a coup at a critical moment and win the Fuxing Palace to become a king."
The black prophet did not speak.
There was another surge of demon vines on his legs.
Morat took a few breaths and seemed to adjust.
"how?"
Duke Xinghu stretched out his hands, pressed the arms of both sides, and slowly leaned down, approaching the face of Morat's old dragon-although it was not comfortable.
"He sent me here, isn't it just for you to ask about such a thing?"
Tyres looked directly at the black prophet at a very close distance, and even counted the wrinkles on the other person's face:
"Stop in peace, erase threats?"
The darkness around him seemed to be more arrogant, invading everything in his sight, leaving only the two people facing each other.
Morat's eyes were still, and he didn't move slightly, and Tyers couldn't get any information from it.
But he knew that he couldn't go backwards.
Finally, as if a century had passed, a smile climbed onto the old man's face.
"I have to admit that this was an unexpected surprise."
Morat looked at Taylors carefully, and said:
"His Duke."
Tells also rubbed the corner of his mouth, revealing a smirk that was not sincere.
"There are many things you didn't expect," he let go of his arm and straightened up, calling for the other party's nickname: "You are not the only ones who are tired of wiping their butts."
"Black Prophet."
Morat leaned back in his chair, and the movement of the movement stimulated the black veined vines.
"You look confident, Duke Tyers," the head of the secret department narrowed his eyes:
"Confident that those prisoners escaped without creating a threat-whether it is a loss to you, your father, or the relationship between you."
Tells snorted.
"so what?"
The prince repeated this sentence for the third time.
He spoke softly in the next second:
"Same thing, hasn't my uncle, the former second prince, Horace Canxing already done in the year?"
The black prophet's eyes widened suddenly.
"He secretly hired a desperate man like the Black Sword, bought assassins of the Shadow Shield, provoked thousands of people in the capital, and bewitched the guards in the guard, so that they cooperated in a tacit coup, and at the critical moment they won the palace coup, even assassination First King and First Crown Prince. "
Tells was expressionless and didn't care:
"On the eve of his return to the throne, he died of the betrayal of the former Duke of South Downs."
"But never again, neither my father nor you are that stupid."
The old man in the wheelchair remained silent for a long time, and looked at Tyers for a long time.
He looked into Tells' eyes, as if looking at a treasure:
"You are really good at gathering intelligence, aren't you?"
But regardless of the other party's answer, Taylors just stared at Morat directly:
"So you know."
The crime of Hell River roared in the veins, helping the prince to hold back other impulses:
"Those prisoners of the bones, you know, some of them acted obediently, some had no choice, some had no choice, some were overwhelmed, some had no idea."
The Black Prophet just stared at him tightly, without speaking.
"Communicate the enemy?"
Tells sneered:
"They may have failed their duties, but more is to fight for the blood relatives of the royal family of Canxing and bear the crime."
He remembered the little Barney in the bone prison and the dead Nai and Naki, gritted his teeth and said:
"Buried in the past."
Morat closed his eyes and took a light breath, as if tasting the dim light and the depressed atmosphere.
"I understand."
The Black Prophet slowly opened his eyes and looked directly at Taylors:
"About why you let them go."
Tells did not hide, met the other's eyes, and nodded:
"They have paid the price for not seeing the sun for more than ten years."
"And at least the day I saw them, they completely atoned the merits."
He sneered:
"It's much more useful than an intelligence loophole that only knows how to wipe afterwards."
Morat didn't make any excuses, just kept staring at him, unbelievable.
"Therefore, I gave them freedom as a reward."
Tails continued, with a firm tone of voice, and could not refute: "In a manner that is the lowest key, the safest, and most in the interest of the kingdom, and does not damage the royal family's reputation."
The prince took a deep breath and adjusted his mood:
"Now, Morat Hansen, Lord Lord."
"Either, you go to my father and tell him that his only son is protecting the fugitive from the dead, and he is coveting a big position, and he should be eradicated as soon as possible to prevent future trouble.
The black prophet rubbed a demon vine on the arm of his chair, his expression deep.
"And I will talk to him directly, one on one, face to face, king to king."
"I will bear his anger."
Tells looked solemnly:
"But this part is just a matter between me and him, you no longer need to intervene, Lord Hansen."
He took the arrogance felt in King Nunn and King Kessel, and said coldly:
"Because as a star, I only answer another star's question."
Quiet in the hallway.
Morat looked back at him without discerning his emotions.
Teres narrowed his eyes:
"Either, you can keep yourself safe."
"Put up the sniffing noses before me, converge the power of your self-proclaimed prophet, control the voyeurism of the secret sciences, and less of these lies that I will take the initiative to say, less of this strange tone. threaten me."
Silence grabbed control of the conversation.
In the ear, the endless rust of the demon's flesh and blood is heard, like the rat and rattles, and the mosquitoes and scavengers.
The next second, Tyers looked cold!
He suddenly reached out and grabbed a restless black veined vine by the arm of the chair.
The demon flesh on the wheelchair trembles violently.
The black prophet's expression changed slightly.
"Let this damn, noisy thing shut up, shut up."
The crime of the prison river was surging, and Taylors bit his teeth hard and forced it to pull it out, and fell to the ground.
"Or I will."
He said coldly.
The effect was immediate, and the flesh and blood of the devil immediately moved away from the direction of Tyers and
flee
to other parts of the wheelchair.
The murmur disappeared.
Throughout the process, Tyers stared at the black prophet without looking.
Morat calmed his breath, but carelessly looked at the vine that struggled on the ground, gradually lost its activity, and finally turned into a dead branch.
Looking far.
After a few seconds, he turned his head and looked back at Tyers.
"The journey to the North is truly extraordinary, Your Excellency the Duke."
"In the past, you were not so stiff, even if you take the initiative to attack, it is inevitable that you will be in a hurry and stagnate."
Morat narrowed his eyes, with emotion and surprise:
"However, look at you: threatening or extortion, toughness or spying, it is handy, like instinct."
"What changed you?"
What changed me?
[So think about it, what did you look like after you became a prince? 】
[Are you still you, or are you Tells? 】
[Or has it ... changed into something else? 】
Tells frowned, throwing away what Quickline once said.
"Nothing."
He straightened his waist and forced himself to say:
"Only I was born like this."
"And you wake up too late."
Morat was silent for a while.
"They must be important to you, right," the old man in the wheelchair was interested:
"Those criminals."
Tells snorted.
"Save it, if you want to mention the" elimination of weakness "argument six years ago," the prince recalled the frankness in Ballard's room, disdainful:
"My father has been chattering all morning."
The Black Prophet did not speak, and was still waiting for his answer.
Tells looked away, trying to forget the people in the bone prison.
"It's not them that matter."
"It's me," he gritted. "My principles, my rules, my choices."
"Loyalty must have fat-cough-return."
Duke Xinghu lowered his head and looked directly at Morat:
"And those who hurt me will have a price."
"Do you understand, Lord?"
This time the silence lasted especially long.
Until Morat, who was watching him silently, raised the corner of his mouth and laughed strangely.
The vines on his legs are still creeping, but the amplitude is much more convergent.
Looking at the other person's smile, Taylors tried hard to hold back the uneasiness in his heart.
"Don't worry, Lord Duke, I'm not that ruthless."
The Black Prophet put his hands on his knees and squinted:
"Since you have opened your mouth and pledged yourself, we will give you a face anyway."
At that moment, Thales let out a sigh of relief in his heart.
"Again, eighteen years."
Morat lightly knocked on the wheelchair, seeming to appease it, while gazing attentively:
"The old folks in the Fuxing Palace have long been outdated, the damage is limited, and the waves can't be turned over. I naturally don't need to waste any more budget and issue a warrant.
Well, maybe except one.
The information manager recovered and grinned:
"Just, Lord Duke, please give us more trust next time."
trust?
Tells frowned.
"Williams is not professional after all," the Black Prophet said lightly:
"Such as fake death, the secretive department is not impossible to arrange."
He glanced at Tells:
"And you don't have to use this way of seeing death as if you were to avoid suffering?"
Tells stiffened his mind and said:
"of course."
The black prophet smiled:
"But your father will know sooner or later, do you understand?"
Tells stayed:
"of course."
"Then can we continue, Lord Duke?"
Tyres took a deep breath and re-held the wheelchair back (the black veined vines fled to the other side again), turned it in the right direction, and also hidden Morat's face in the invisible darkness:
"of course."
Teres took a step and they moved forward again.
"Very well, you are on your way." Morat said leisurely.
Tells moved:
"what?"
"I have been in the secretory department for a long time, boy."
This time, Morat's words brought a bit of sigh:
"I don't know when to start, no matter who it is in front of me, everyone has become cautious and shy."
"And as for a person who is at ease with no burden and is not afraid of lying to me?"
People who are not afraid to panic about the black prophet ...
Tells thought about this sentence carefully.
Morat continued:
"Since the year of the Scarlet Age, after the deaths of Crown Prince and Midea, only the setting sun has known that it has been a long, long time in my life.
He laughed softly, as if remembering something, and slowly shook his head.
Tyres looked weird.
Can't believe it, he actually felt in the words of this fierce intelligence leader ... missed and sentimental?
"So before that?"
Tells asked:
"My uncle, my grandfather, how do you get along when they stand in front of you?"
The Black Prophet was silent for a second.
"Like you just found."
Thales's feet were stagnant, but he adjusted back very quickly.
"Whether it is the first king or the first crown prince, they never fear or lie in front of me-even if they know that I have the ability to recognize the lies they say."
In the endless darkness and desertion, Morat said quietly:
"And do you know why?"
Tells thought.
Eddie II, and Crown Prince Midi ...
They never fear or worry, they lie before the black prophet?
Tells was a little surprised.
At that moment, he suddenly recalled the images of the two men described by King Kessel in the tomb of the stars, as well as the king who was the enemy of the world mentioned by Sackel in the bone prison.
But he reacted quickly.
"that power."
Tells thought:
"Because they have power."
"They are not afraid of you."
"You don't care what you know."
He stared blankly at the back of the black prophet:
"As a servant downstream of power, you have no motivation and need to expose their lies."
Somehow, at this moment, Thales thought of the night when he and Kuai Sheng revealed their identities.
[This has nothing to do with your strength, Tells. On the contrary, the greater your power and the greater the power, the tighter the chain and the deeper the hoops, the more unable to break free. 】
[Like our father. 】
"well said!"
The black prophet laughed abruptly.
He smiled for a few seconds before slowing his tone.
"that power."
"Only power."
Morat's words were filled with exclamation:
"Power is not a lie."
"To a certain extent, it likes to lie, is willing to lie, and is good at lying. The power it possesses can only flow in lies, discern enemy and self, and highlight existence."
His tone slowly tightened, teaching Taylors to be alert for no reason:
"It can only become a real power when it is truly contrary to will and nature, so that those with improper feelings begin to be numb, persuade themselves, let them give up questioning, and believe lies."
Tells was a little surprised.
"The emperor's new clothes, the elephant in the room."
The prince quietly said:
"They lied to us, we knew they were lying, and they knew we knew they were lying, but they kept lying like this, and we just pretended to believe them."
The Black Prophet tasted it for a while, and he hummed suspiciously.
"It's not what I said," Tells recovered, coughing:
"It was a female writer ... something from Northland."
Morat remained silent for a while, as if recalling, then denied:
"No, there is absolutely no such statement in Northland."
Tells was embarrassed first, then smiled.
"Really not," he said without hesitation:
"I'm lying."
The black prophet smiled:
"I know."
Tails snorted:
"Yes, I know you know."
He raised his head and looked at the road ahead, and a door appeared at the end of the corridor:
"So, when I lie next time, I ask you to understand."
Morat exhaled and seemed very satisfied:
"Welcome to the boat, Duke Tyers."
Tells was silent for a while:
"My honor, Lord Hansen."
The Black Prophet nodded and said in a loud voice:
"Just, you have to understand that when I knew it but didn't expose you-I was lying."
His statement has a deep meaning:
"Don't get used to it."
There was an illusion in front of Taylors.
[Twist, Tells, twist. 】
[They are all twisted and captured, including my father and brother, Tells, captured by power, enslaved, and lost. 】
[In that chain, they turned into something else: indifferent tools, cold-blooded scum, suspicious tyrants, but no longer alone. 】
"Of course," Tells sighed, and stopped thinking about Quick Rope:
"of course."
The boy's footsteps moved forward steadily.
Somehow, after some negotiations and temptations with the Black Prophet, he clearly lifted the crisis and stopped the threats for the guard prisoners and fast rope.
It can be different from every previous escape.
This time, he didn't feel the slightest ease.
I felt relieved for a moment.
On the contrary, this time, especially when the Black Prophet laughed, Tyers only felt that the burden on him was getting heavier and heavier.
Getting tighter.
It's hard to escape.
He squeezed the wheelchair unconsciously.
"The last question, boy."
Tyers' ears tightened, and his mind raised infinite vigilance.
"Can it be smoother?"
Under the grotesque expression of Thales, the executive manager of the secret department leaned on the back of the chair and gave a helpless breath:
"You are about to push me apart."

Finally, in the complex mood of embarrassment and anxiety, Tyers followed the instructions and pushed Morat into a dim room.
Thales loosened his wheelchair and undoubtedly looked at this strange room-the decoration was simple, the area was small, and the visibility was poor. The biggest feature was that they were inlaid with a huge mirror on the wall, which barely reflected him and The blurred figure of Morat sitting one by one.
However, at the next moment, a light spot appeared on the mirror surface, and the whole mirror lit up.
Tails frowned, but then he noticed that another larger room and Raphael stood in the "mirror".
"One-way glass," Morat chuckled: "It's made by infiltrating Lijing, and it's expensive."
"We can see them, they can't see us."
I know, I've seen it, who is it?
The unhappy Taylors pressed the above sentence into his heart.
"Where is this?"
"trial room."
Morat simply answered:
"Please also be quiet, Your Highness, we still can't make a perfect one-way sound-we can't do it cheaply."
Tails frowned and looked at the room on the other side of the glass. Raphael said something to several subordinates, who exited the door.
The boneless man turned around and nodded slightly in the direction of the Black Prophet and Thales.
"Who to interrogate?"
Tells wondered:
"Anker Bailar last night?"
Instead of answering the prince, Morat looked around in the dark and sighed with emotion:
"Ah, no matter here or there, I really miss this place."
"Especially this glass is of great significance. When we moved, we almost moved it intact."
"Why?" Taylors stared at Raphael on the other side.
The black prophet snorted.
"Eighteen years ago," he pointed to the one-way glass, an old-fashioned attitude, and his eyes were radiant:
"The other side of this glass is seated with a notorious but notorious Exeter noble."
"The Earl of Mountton from the Black Sand Collar."
He whispered a name:
"Famous name-Chaman Rumba."
Tells was taken aback and looked at the glass again.
"And here, I am standing at your position. As for my position, sitting the crown prince of the stars ..."
Morat exhaled and remembered:
"Middle Star."
In the dimly depressed room, the black prophet said slowly:
"The dragon chick eats the dragon king, and the vow will end. The new blood will cover the old blood, and Honglu will open."
"That year, Dragon Blood-aiming at the head of the enemy, opened the revival of the stars, and put the top secret plan of the final game on the chessboard of the wise men-on both sides of this glass, it was born. . "
"Therulesaresimple: theylietous, weknowthey'relying, theyknowweknowthey'relying, buttheykeeplyingtous, andwekeeppretendingtobelievethem." — ElenaGorokhova, AMountainofCrumbs, 2010
(End of this chapter)