The black altar was painted with bright red lines using pungent red paint.

The devout believers specially wore large, hooded robes and knelt on the ground respectfully, not letting God see their faces and not daring to face the statue of God directly.

This is an expression of reverence during sacrifice.

Thirteen ignorant girls, on the other hand, knelt down in front of the believers and the statues. Perhaps they had been manipulated, otherwise the panicked girls would not have been so well-behaved.

Amidst some irregular but extremely solemn prayers, the sacrifice to the sheep-faced devil has begun.

The previous appearance of the sheep-faced demon in Scrap Iron City was a big deal for the mysterious circles represented by foundations, mysterious organizations, wandering churches and other forces, but it was also a big deal for ordinary people.

No one can remain unmoved after witnessing the arrival of surreal power.

There are always people who will be the first to take the initiative. For example, when others are in awe, they begin to pray to the sheep-faced devil and make wishes to him.

While some ignorant people only know how to make a wish to the sheep-faced devil in time and space, the truly professional believers have already begun to study how to get a response from the other party.

There is also a sequence for worshiping gods.

The first batch of people who receive the response from the gods can always become the dependents of the gods.

Therefore, in Scrap Iron City, a city where the mysterious organization has almost been emptied out, the believers have also been emptied out and grown again.

In order to be the first to receive a response from the gods, these people have resolutely prepared second-level sacrifices, just like a gamble in fate.

They prayed devoutly to the statue of the goat-faced devil, feeling a little uneasy and apprehensive in their hearts.

After all, there are no relevant records of the new-born sheep-faced demons, nor the appearance of missionaries. They do not know the relevant formations, nor the corresponding runes, and there is no one to guide them.

The only way to exchange for the inspiration of the gods is through the barbaric method of upgrading the level of sacrifices.

However, things turned out to be smoother than they imagined. As the prayer progressed, strange power fluctuations were like a floating current, which vaguely touched everyone's spirit.

Thin murmurs appeared in my ears at some point, as if something bright red was whispering to me.

The believers became excited.

They succeeded, and through thirteen virgins, they succeeded in getting a response from the sheep-faced devil.

Although no one dared to look up at this time, they could all clearly sense that the stone statue in front of them, which was made of black rocks and carved with a sheep's face, already had a vivid atmosphere.

A certain mysterious gaze fell on their faces, which made their hearts tremble. They lowered their heads deeper, just waiting for the sheep-faced devil to truly come and enjoy the sacrifice.

More and more specific, closer and closer.

They can feel on an instinctive level that they are getting closer to the gods in their hearts.

"Tuk tuk..."

Then just when this feeling became more and more concrete, and he even felt that the spirit spirit had arrived beside him, there was a sudden knock on the door behind him.

The believers were stunned and their emotions were interrupted.

Why would someone knock on the door at the critical moment of the sacrifice?

Besides, in such a secret place, how could someone come to me at this time and knock on the door politely?

At this critical moment, they don't want to pay attention.

But the knocking on the door is getting louder and louder. Although it has a rhythm, the rhythm is accelerating.

At the end, the knock on the door suddenly made a "bang" sound, as if all the rhythms merged into one, creating a huge sound, and the cold wind poured into the back.

The door was kicked open.

These devout believers finally couldn't bear it anymore and turned around to look behind them.

When someone lifted it up, he still subconsciously made a slightly disrespectful gesture. He took a careful glance at the statue in front of him and found that the statue was still just a sculpture.

The feeling I had just now that the god had come to life seemed to be just an illusion.

At the secret door, a man wearing a black jacket walked in with a gentle and bright smile on his face.

He ignored the surprised and angry looks these people cast at him, and just walked straight into the hall, looking at everything in the room one by one as if with an attitude of appreciation.

"There are quite a few people!"

He smiled and said the first sentence.

Then, as if he had returned to his own home, he walked in front of everyone, looked at everything they had prepared for this grand sacrifice, and commented quietly: "But your sacrifice is very unprofessional."

"...First of all, I chose the wrong paint. This brand of paint is not bright enough or bright enough."

"I can only say that your decoration level is average. Can't you find a better decoration team next time and hire a designer?"

"..."

As he said that, he pulled up another red robe, looked at it, and shook his head, "It's too clean. It should have a fresher and more lively atmosphere."

"Candles, incense, and these incense are not acceptable..."

"..."

He particularly looked at the scented candles burning brightly on the table with disgust, and said, "Next time you can just use cigarettes instead. It's cheap and practical..."

“Of course, choose the Camel brand, it’s so powerful!”

"..."

"you……"

Finally, an old man who looked like he was offering sacrifices to the leader of the crowd couldn't help but interrupt the sudden man, and said in a cold voice, "Who are you?"

"Why did you break into our altar?"

"..."

"Um?"

The man in the jacket just walked to the back door, raised his hand to bolt the back door, and bent the iron door bolt directly.

Then he turned back with a smile: "Didn't you invite me here?"

When he said these words, the candles in the entire hall suddenly went out at the same time, and a cold wind swirled up from the room.

All the believers in red robes suddenly had illusions on their faces at this moment.

I don't know if it was due to dazzling eyes, but they actually saw the man's face changing constantly. It seemed that at a certain moment, he suddenly became very similar to the statue of the goat-faced devil.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! But after blinking hard, rubbing his eyes again, and looking again, he found that the man's face had not changed.

That gentle smile is still there.

However, he was pulling out a black gun from his waist, with a black muzzle, and slowly pointed it towards the believers present.

In the dizzying dark environment, the black muzzle of the gun kept magnifying in everyone's eyes.

"Thank you for your generous hospitality..."

On his gentle face, he gently uttered gentle words: "I will cleanse your souls and keep you away from sins."

"Promise to stay away from that..."

"..."

"call!"

The deafening sound of gunfire suddenly echoed in this narrow and cramped room.

The sounds of flesh exploding, panicked shouts, and someone's low-pitched laughter formed an interesting and impressive symphony.

It is difficult to guarantee anything else, but Wei Wei made sure that he was serious about this first sacrifice.

He responded very seriously.

Every bullet is not wasted seriously.

…

…

No one knows about this secret sacrifice in a secret environment, except the sacrificer and the devil himself.

But at the same time when the gunshots started to reverberate, in the scrap iron city, in what could almost be called the most high-end hotel suite, there was a cold and pious man wearing silver armor with a newly engraved fleur-de-lis pattern on it.

The woman was kneeling on the carpet in the hotel room, with candles lit every thirty centimeters around her, surrounding her.

She held a quill in her hand, and a piece of gold-rimmed note paper unfolded in front of her eyes.

From time to time, the tip of the quill was stuck into the veins on the back of his left hand, stained with red blood, and he wrote delicate handwriting on the note paper:

"Record of the First Scarlet Sacrifice."

"Sacrifice method: fraud"

"Sacrifice result: accepted"

"Scarlet Book

Qualitative analysis: killing, cruelty, strong desire to protect."

"Hazard level analysis..."

"..."
To be continued...