Jerusalem

Ⅱ: List of Assassins 1 -10

Ⅱ: List of Assassins

Chapter 1

　　"One...two...three...four...five...six."

　　"Six...five...four...three...two...one."

　　"One...two...three..."

　　Week On the afternoon of Monday, there were almost no people in the seventh-century megalithic chapel. This chapel is on the cliff facing the sea in the north of Rhodes Island. It is tall and empty, and has been neglected all year round.

　　There is only one priest in the chapel, two boys of fourteen or fifteen years old, a clear pool of water, a garden of red roses in full bloom, and those ancient, abstract idols of the Magna Grecian era.

　　The deep golden sunlight slanted in from the high eagle window, and there were lines of warm yellow grids on the ground.

　　There was only one young man kneeling in front of the altar and praying. He was not praying. He was just counting numbers, from one to six, from six to one, and from one to six... The cycle kept repeating, not knowing what he was going to do. Count until when.

　　He seemed to enjoy it.

　　The young man held a string of purple-gray Kapok rosary beads in his hand, tied with black wool thread. It could be seen that several beads had been removed from the original rosary, and the remaining beads were sparse. Each kapok bead is polished smooth and shiny, which should be the result of rubbing and plucking during long hours of prayer, just like what he is doing now.

　　There were about twenty rosary beads in this string, but the young man only moved six of them back and forth. Suddenly, he stopped this strange behavior without warning.

　　"Six." He said, "This is the sixth from the bottom."

　　He had a pair of slender and beautiful hands, and he calmly untied the woolen string with rosary beads, took one out of it, then leaned down and placed it on the holy altar with his hands. I groped carefully on the floor tiles in front of the altar. He touched a slightly protruding rock tile and moved it away, revealing the black soil underneath.

　　The young man buried the removed rosary beads in the soil, not very deep. There were already many identical beads lying quietly with the soil.

　　"The Lord is a stern Lord." The young man made the sign of the cross on his chest. "Please judge the souls of the dead, because I have sent them to your feet."

　　He closed the rock tiles with a pious expression, and then lay down on his chest. On the ground, a deep kiss was pressed on the surface of the stone brick.

　　"Your Excellency Garcia, are your prayers over?" A voice sounded from behind at the right time. The priest in white stood in the thick Roman-style arch of the chapel. There was a warm light behind him. Behind the warm light, there was a group of water-red roses. In the yard It was as quiet as heaven.

　　The priest in white has a slender figure and looks to be in his early twenties. His chestnut brown shoulder-length curly hair is kept at just the right aristocratic length. The blue-grey eyes are beautifully shaped with thick eyelashes. If you look closely, the beauty at the end of the eyes and his noble temperament seem to imply that his identity is not limited to a priest.

　　"Father Oral." The young man stood up, patted his clothes, and walked from the altar to the door. When he passed the row of golden light gratings, an unknown smile appeared on his handsome face. He stretched out his hands to the priest: "Father, I need to confess."

　　Father Oral put his hands into the young man's hands. The young man held them gently and leaned down to kiss them.

　　"I killed someone again." The young man said, "Have you heard? A man died on the bell tower. He was the religious inquisitor from Jerusalem, Guy Galen. Do you know this man?" The priest said calmly