Book of Gods and Demons

　　On the brightly lit street, except for a few patrols who haunt like ghosts, no one is left.

　　 It is not eleven o'clock in the night. On weekdays, this is the prime time when Tulum Port is the busiest and noisiest night life. Not to mention, does tonight belong to the Mid-Autumn Festival?

　　 curfew.

　　 This is something that has never happened before in the history of Tulum Port.

　　 The city hall jointly issued a curfew with the garrison, police station, and court. After nightfall, unless the military, police, or have a special permit, the citizens of Tulum Port are strictly forbidden to appear on the streets.

　　 Joe waved his baton in his hand and wandered down Silver Grape Street.

On both sides of 　　 Avenue are delicate small buildings. Each building has a large front garden. Every garden is kept clean and tidy, and the air is full of fragrant flowers.

　　 Because of overseas trade, Tulum Port is extremely rich. Because of wealth, the artistic atmosphere here is also extremely strong.

　　 In the small building where Joe walked, the sound of music was heard in all likelihood. The sound of piano, violin, viola, cello, flute, reed pipe, and even the difficult harp flutters.

　　 Despite the turmoil and panic in Tulum Harbour in the past two days, life continues.

　　 Joe clicked his mouth.

　　As "Joe", he appreciates such a relaxed and relaxed life atmosphere. In the past, he would even lie in front of the guardrail of the small building, presumptuously and boldly through the glass windows of the small building, peeping at the beautiful ladies playing musical instruments.

　　 as "Crimson"...

　　 was labeled as ‘Crimson Red’ by Laplace!

　　 ‘Crimson’ hates this kind of peaceful and peaceful life, anger is brewing, and in the accumulation of constant accumulation, Joe’s blood is boiling and rolling. He is eager to fight, eager to fight, eager for the noisy heaven and earth to break, eager for **** destruction and slaughter.

　　 "Power!"

　　 Joe murmured the word from deep in his throat.

　　 This is not the wish of "Joe", but the instinctive pursuit from the deepest part of "Crimson".

　　 Powerful, powerful enough to crush everything and suppress everything. "Crimson" longs for power, so Joe now desperately longs for power.

　　 "La Place, how can I increase my strength the fastest? How can I complete the exercise of the sea of ​​strength the fastest?" Joe finally couldn't help but asked this question in a low voice.

"Pharmaceuticals." Laplace's shrill voice sounded in Joe's mind, and his voice was filled with a smile that could not be concealed: "Crimson, I know that you can't control your madness about power. Desire-hope. After all, you are crimson!"

　　 Joe didn’t want to discuss the relationship between'Joe' and'Crimson' anymore. He asked in a low voice, "What kind of potion?"

"It is more refined, free of impurities, more energy per unit volume, easier to be absorbed, and less load on the sea of ​​power." Laplace smiled happily: "For example, the perfect sacred origin potion, I have the complete recipe here."

"Money is priceless, knowledge is priceless, Laplace is very fair, the Holy Origin potion, the complete formula is only 10 billion gold marks!" Laplace smiled'cheap', reminding Joe again of gnaw Parrot fish that feed on coral reefs.

　　 Joe closed his mouth, and he was deeply shocked and continued to walk forward with his head down and frustrated.

　　As the most favored child of the Rittal family, Joe can get a fixed amount of 1,500 gold mark pocket money from Hessen every month. Using various coquettish methods, Joe can get additional subsidies ranging from three hundred to five hundred from Liya every month.

　　 When luck is good, for example, this morning, Joe can get an extra amount of unexpected income from Hessian.

　　 On average, Joe can get a monthly income of two thousand two thousand three hundred gold marks.

　　 This part of the proceeds, and a large part of it, will be snatched away by Tifa's violent blackmail, and will be taken away by Vema acting cute and cute. In the end, Joe has only 1,500 gold coins on hand every month.

　　For ordinary people, this is a huge sum of money. After all, the civilians at the bottom of the empire earn less than ten gold coins a year.

　　 But Laplace said, a prescription for a medicine costs 10 billion gold marks?

　　 "If I eat it, will I become a god?" Joe was a little annoyed.

"Exactly correct, a potion of divine origin with perfect proportions can make you a high god!" Laplace stretched his voice, and exclaimed in Joe's mind with an opera aria: "Being a god, isn't it? Is it worth ten billion gold marks?"

　　 Joe threw away his hands, speeding up his walking.

"Laplace, become a god? Can you have a more reliable statement? God, the glory calendar of the Medland continent is 1,379 years, a full 1,379 years, in Medland In the mainland, God has disappeared for 1,379 years."

"God, exist." Laplace insisted on selling to Joe: "You can't deny the existence of God and the possibility of becoming a God just because you haven't seen God with your own eyes. If God doesn't exist, why are you so? How much favor?"

　　 Coughed, and Laplace slowed down his voice: "Well, I see,'Crimson' is a poor ghost. Then, poor ghost'Crimson', come here with a shining dragon potion?"

"One billion golden marks, as long as one billion golden marks, you can get the formula of the shining dragon potion. One dose, as long as you take a perfectly harmonized dose of the shining dragon potion, you can have a complete Taikoo giant The power of the dragon."

　　 "Or, 100 million gold marks, burning Phoenix potion?"

　　 "Ah, the poor ghost'Crimson', then, ten million golden marks... I think about it, ten million golden marks, you can only get the formula for the ordinary bronze Titan bloodline potion."

　　 "I must tell you, to be honest, this potion is boring, it can only give you a certain amount of Titan power. Of course, as long as you take ten doses in a row, you can complete the perfect forging of the sea of ​​power."

　　 "It's perfect, think about it?"

　　 Joe touched his chest, and the stack of banknotes he snatched from Hessian in the morning was lying firmly in his pocket.

　　 "I only have, probably, a thousand gold marks. Laplace, can you figure it out?"

　　 Joe reported all his current belongings.

Laplace did not say a word for a long time. After a long time, he sighed faintly: "Poor ghost. As a poor ghost, why should I care for you? But, you are'Crimson', no one, than You are more suitable to be my patron."

"Then, one thousand gold marks...the poor one thousand gold marks...in the Durham capital, one thousand gold marks is not enough for a glass of wine for some people..." Laplace stretched his voice and said with emotion: "Then, unblemished elementary The formula of the strength potion is a good thing ten times stronger than the inferior one you took yesterday."

　　 "That's it, the transaction is complete!"

Not allowing Joe to speak, the stack of banknotes on his chest turned into a wisp of blue smoke and disappeared. In the blue smoke, a small bronze paper the size of a palm appeared quietly, with crimson writing on it, densely written with the primary strength potion. The formula and blending method.

　　 Joe stopped, stood under the street lamp, took out the note and looked at it carefully.

　　 He doesn't understand pharmacy, but the raw materials listed on this note, as well as the method of refining medicine, seem to be so pretty.

　　 Suddenly, a lot of cold sweat broke out on Joe's back.

He cursed in a low voice: "Laplace, **** Laplace, you only give the formula and the refining method, and I still have to find a way to collect materials and prepare potions... You said it is worth 10 billion gold. How much does Mark's potion cost?"

Laplacian responded dryly to Joe: "The material cost of the Divine Origin Pharmacy, according to the current market price, will never exceed 300 million gold marks. Of course, the preparation process may be a bit more difficult. Epic pharmacists may have a percentage of One’s probability of success."

　　 After a pause, Laplace said with a dry smile: "The preparation process may be a little dangerous. When the raw materials are high-energy condensed, if the ratio is wrong, there is a certain probability, about 80% of the probability of a big explosion."

　　 A success rate of 1% is also a failure rate of 99%; and once it fails, there is an 80% probability of a big explosion. This means that even if an epic pharmacist prepares a potion of Holy Origin, there is an 80% probability of an explosion!

　　 Joe was sweating all over his body: "The power of the explosion?"

Laplace was silent again for a long time, and then he slowly said: "The entire Port of Tulum? Haha, perhaps, it is necessary to connect to the three provinces around Tulum Port. After all, a dose of Divine Origin can create A god, the potion contains power comparable to a god. Isn’t it reasonable for a god’s attack to destroy several provinces?"

　　 Joe carefully put the formula in his hand close to his body. This is a formula worth a thousand gold marks.

　　 "So, is an epic pharmacist easy to find? I have never heard of the existence of an epic pharmacist~www.ltnovel.com~ Joe sighed and continued to move forward.

"Of course you have never heard of it. Now there is no epic pharmacist in Medland." Laplace said slowly: "The last epic pharmacist, let me think about it, died three thousand. For many years."

　　 Joe's heart guilty came up, he greeted Laplace's mother in the local dialect of Jiasijia, with a very local foul language.

　　 At the end of Silver Grape Street, Joe stopped.

　　 At the end of Silver Grape Street, this is the hardest hit area that was bombarded by the old fort the night before.

　　 A section of street nearly a thousand feet long was completely turned into rubble. On the ground, there were more than a dozen huge craters, enough to swallow a small building as a whole, extremely dazzling.

Several army soldiers in iron-gray uniforms were standing on the side of the road and smoking. Seeing Joe coming over, one soldier snorted and shook his head and sighed: "The benevolent Muteste is here. Fortunately it is Zhong Qiuzhi. At night, not many people stayed at home in this area."

　　Dark night, ruins, bullet craters, wearing iron-gray uniforms, under the bluish-white light of the gas street lamp, are like soldiers in ghost shadows. All of these seem so illusory, just like scenes in a nightmare.

　　 Joe stood by a huge crater and stared blankly for a while.

　　 "The benevolent Muteste is up here. Don't let me catch the crap, I will break their bones one by one." Joe clenched his fists and said loudly towards the soldiers.

　　 "I hope so." A soldier spread his hands and shook his head: "Brothers have been busy for two consecutive days. The neighborhood has been thoroughly searched and nothing is found."

　　 "I'll catch them." Joe nodded to the soldier. "Wait and see."